Monday, January 08, 2007
♥ Monday, January 08, 2007
Today was a bad day. But I was reading Tien's blog (who is the gien on my tagboard, by the way. apparently she typed wrongly)) and I felt the need to blog. About last night. (lucy if you're going to say I'm crying all the time then don't read anymore)
Last night, if it was a normal night, I would have slept at eleven since the next day was a school day, with no worries except if I would get up early enough to get to school in time.
Last night, if it was a little off normal, I would have slept at eleven thirty in boarding school in A402 on the same bed with the same view with different roommates wondering if i left the laundry in the machine for too long, and whether i'd wake up on time for school.
Last night, if it was a bit unnormal, I would be doing the laundry at home drying the clothes, boiling water, sweeping the floor, ironing some clothes. Doing homework, worrying if the kettle will actually make noise when the water's done cos the last time it didn't and the kettle chao da-ed. And worrying if I'd get up in time for school tomorrow, while sleeping at eleven thirty.
But last night it was unusual. Not what I would be doing on a school night. I was waiting for midnight, granted. I wasn't worrying if I'd wake up the next day for school. I wasn't thinking of anyone. No, not even him, although I was waiting for midnight for him. Nada. Empty. Conked out. I found out something that I wasn't supposed to, yesterday. Not really 'not supposed to', you know. She told me about it. But I don't want to know it. I'd rather I didn't know it.
Because right after that I started crying. Tears welling my eye buckets and then emptying, and then gasping for breath, and then tears welling again, and then emptying, all over and over and over again.
But last night it was different. Because I had someone with me. Not him. Not him either. Not anyone I would have cared about probably, two years ago. Not anyone I would have gotten close with if he hadn't existed. Not a type of person who would be my friend and listen to endless moaning if he hadn't come along and wrecked both our lives. But she, is a true friend. She stood by me in my times of need. She, was the one who tried to made me feel better when I was bawling my eyes out. She was the one who told me she was listening when I couldn't count on anything else to be real. She taught me how to live life as we have it, the way we have it. She didn't falter at her own advice.
She was the one who broke into my immunity system.
You would have thought, and I would too, by the things I've gotten past, gotten through, gotten over, that I would have been immune to some things. Some actions some people do, certain things they say. It's like repeated antibiotics prescribed by the doctor which doesn't work on me anymore. But nevertheless. Every single blow, small or big, no matter how many times it's struck on me, no matter when; they always get me. They always, always get me down. And I always, always need someone to help me through, to carry me and walk the next mile before I can stand back up and continue the rest of my journey.
What everyone sees me as now in school is the positive person who's a bit shy but nevertheless makes quite a lot of noise. QUITE a lot. HEH. *hint* my family sees me as a good at everything person who can do anything and who never cries, never has problems. never knows anything either, perhaps. But I know. I know, because I've been through all of what they don't want me to know, I've seen through their lies, I've seen through their cover. I've seen through what they want me to see and looked deeper into each and every single person and their feelings.
But deep down. Sometimes I'm laughing on the outside but my heart is aching so much, like there's a hole and things are leaking out from it. Like someone stabbed me with a hundred knives right into my heart, leaving me to bleed and dry off as a dried body. Sucking out all the life and love and energy inside of me and throwing them into rivers and lakes that lead to someplace unknown. You never know the irony I face in my life everyday, sick of pretending to be something I'm really not. Sick of pretending that I don't know, sick of pretending that I know, sick of pretending.
But this person. She hasn't forgotten about what I feel inside. She hasn't forgotten that she could feel that way sometimes too. She hasn't forgotten that what I put on everyday could be a mask to hide my feelings. She hasn't forgotten that I'm human too, and I have my down moments, and I have feelings and I can think.
And she's my bucket.
She's my bucket to hold the blood that leaks from the heart. She's my bucket to collect all the life and love and energy that was sucked out from me and bring them back to where they were in the first place. She's my bucket if I cry seven gazillion litre of tears.
And most of all. She doesn't mind. She doesn't mind being my bucket, my hands. A pair of hands to hold me when I can't take anymore. Because to her, I matter. I'm not some girl who laughs with her and never shares what I really want, what I really need to share with her, not just popcorn, not just coke, but sharing with her my life, everything I have.
And for that I love her. I love her for not minding, I love her for trying to make me feel better, learning what makes me tick Learning what are the stuff that I need, how I'm feeling. I love her for being there for me. I love her for who she is, for what she does. For how she knows me.
And I hope you know that, my twin. You are and will always be, my bucket of vitamin c.
