Wednesday, September 19, 2007
♥ Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Watched the happy little families at the mall?
I thought that stage was over for me, but apparently it's not.
Why can't I be like them?
Whenever I pass by another of them, I'm suddenly defensive, suddenly protective of the kids, and I stare at the parents, hoping that I'll send the message across - don't let them be like me. Don't let them be like me.
Whenever everything else gives up on me, I'm suddenly tired, suddenly sick, and I start to have to run to the toilet and throw up for no reason. I don't eat. And then I think, there's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with me.
Whenever I'm sick, that feeling will always come back. I'm suddenly exhausted, suddenly weak, and I collapse at all the wrong times. And where does that leave me with - nothing. Nothing at all.
I dare you to step in front of me and tell me what it's like to lose someone, then lie to another's face without battling an eyelid that you don't miss that someone you lost, and you lie because you have to. Because then things will be okay if you lie. Things will be okay if you lie.
I bet a million bucks that you can't take care of yourself. I bet all the little brats out there can't do their own laundry, can't mop their floor, can't wash their toilet, don't know what brand of rice you eat, don't know what soy sauce you use, don't know how many toilet rolls are left in your cupboard. Because you don't have to. You don't have to.
I know it's unfair that I'm being such an asshole to everybody all the time, but I have to. Unlike everybody else, I don't have a choice. I don't have a choice, I don't have a chance, to be that girl by the ice cream stall, with her family. I have to be that girl who can memorise the stocks in the fridge before I go to the supermart, that girl who can only stand by one side, and watch the girl with the ice cream, mocha in hand, still waiting for the cup of ice cream that might take forever to be handed over to me.
Still watching, still waiting.
