Monday, November 13, 2006
♥ Monday, November 13, 2006
"I don't wanna be like Cinderella;
Sitting in a dark cold dusty cellar,
Waiting for somebody to come and set me free.
I don't wanna be like someone waiting;
For her handsome prince to come and save me"
Actions speak louder than words.
A cliche, but no matter what as true as ever. Especially now, at this moment and situation I let myself get into. It's got me thinking, anyhow.
Advice. I've given people advice; whether it's Sis or Monica or Sara or anyone else who comes with a problem that needs solving. I can give them thousands of pages of advice on almost anything, most particularly relationships; from Mom advice to guy advice. I can give them solutions to their problems, and I encourage them to follow. I can give them details of how they're feeling. And they'd always say 'Yes, that's how the way I'm feeling.'
And they'd always say I empathise.
Maybe it's my experiences that brings me to tell them my stories. An experience with no advice before me and so I don't want others to lack what I did have. Maybe.
And perhaps so I thought I possessed this gift. This gift of having a passion for advice, the gift of helping others. I thought because of that I was strong, emotionally. I was strong. I prepared myself for all kinds of unhappy things, because I know that I will experience them. I told myself to read more Chicken Soup books to prepare for any sort of separation or anything else I didn't want to and was hard to deal with. I told myself that when it comes to the real thing I'd be strong, and I'd follow my advice faithfully and eventually they'd bring me through the crisis.
But oh, when it comes to affairs of the heart. It gets so much more complicated than advice I could give. Sometimes I'm afraid, of giving the wrong advice to these people. Sometimes I'm confident. And I feel that way because even I falter at own advice.
I can't let things go. Ultimately, that's my only weakness in the affairs of the heart.Ultimately, I will struggle out of the relationship half dead and half alive, living a life unhealthily both physically and emotionally. Eventually, I will be the one who's hurt the most.
Perhaps because I don't want to hurt others. I may say; that you've got to fight for your own happiness, that you shouldn't care about what other people think of you. But when it boils down to doing the real thing? Tell you what, I'm an utter coward. I can't tell myself that people won't get hurt when I say this, or maybe I can't tell myself to fight for something real for the first time in my life.
Because I am too afraid to try. Because inside I am as weak as though a seedling, one that can be easily blown down by the wind. With a single breeze I am shaken of all my confidence, and without a mother plant I can't stand back up on my roots. I can't stand back up on my own.
Don't go too far away from me; I need you. Every single second of the day.
