Am currently in Obstetrics and Gynaecology posting now... and I'm starting to believe that misfortune is my middle name. If Lemony Snickett were to have another book, it should just feature me, becuase my workday is quite A Series of Unfortunate Events.
Why am I the only one who has been blessed enough to encounter not one, but two hand presentations on my vaginal examinations (pardon me... sorry to anyone who does not understand the terminologies) Basically, the only proper way we've been designed to come into this world is head first. Just like what we should do for the rest of our lives- use our head first in any matter. Yeah, maybe that's the message God's trying to get across to us. And we're not meant to come out in any other way, lest we get a clavicular fracture or stg. So my life sucks, because I ahd two patients coming in , bearing down and had to send them up to Labour Room stat, only to know that they were malpresentations. And both had to go for Emergency LSCS's
Am lazy to elaborate on the first case, but will elaborate on the second one. She was a Burmese lady who came bearing down- her os was already 7 cm wide(10 cm is when the baby will be fully delivered) and her membranes were bulging like mad, so I couldn't feel the presenting part well. Which is why sometimes I wished God would give me ultrasound hands to scan their abdomens first, because my obstetric grips are just now good enough. Am so theory based. Aih...
So to cut the long story short, she had to be sent for an Emergency LSCS. I hope she and her baby are alright, or I'll be feeling guilty for the rest of my life! They may not be Malaysian, but it doesn't make them any less human. yes, it was her fault on her part of barely going for antenatal check ups or scans, but she's probably a refugee or rest worker, so who can blame her? Or worse still, a rape victim (but her stewpid husband was around so guess she wasn't la)
So bloody upset. How can their tolerance towards pain be so high? I'm just waiting for the day when they come to the hospital with the baby's head riiighhtt ouutt through their vagina, or with a foot or hand dangling out, before they come for help. Seriously.
AUUUUURRRGGGGHHHHHhhhhhhhh
Life is so menchibaikan.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
New phone
Finally man! Got a new phone... out with the old in with the new!!
Haha what a contradiction to the previous post. It's ok, cause no one reads this blog anyway.
Haha what a contradiction to the previous post. It's ok, cause no one reads this blog anyway.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Suffer the Poor.
She fiddles with her outdated, scratched handphone whilst waiting for her mother to run errands in the post office. It's a sweltering hot day, but the air-condition is at full blast, cooling her down. The phone has survived many falls, been thrown by her during violent fits, and even has it's very own accidental superglue stain to it's back cover.
She muses to herself...
Dang it! If only I had one of those Quirky Qwerty phones or a cool touch screen phone. Doesn't have to be an I Phone- la... they're rather user unfriendly , but a Samsung Star would do.. Or just one of those Nokia N-series with their excellent 5.0 megapixel cameras...
*huffs and puffs*
Reclining in her chair and listening to the lazy cajoling of bossa nova music, she turns her attention to the dilapidated phone booths in front of her.
Who uses them anymore, anyways? They're just used to test the strength of vandals. The stronger you are, the more of that phone booth follows you home. She smiles to herself, recalling a friend of hers who brazenly yanked a whole phoneset-handle, coinbox, the works... off the booth. It now sits as a trophy in his rented house.
Just then, an Indonesian man, face scrunched up after years of hard labour, comes to one of the phone booths. His skin is wizened and tanned, with a tattered blue baseball cap shielding him from the scorching sun. His shirt is nary to brag about, but kept clean nonetheless- care shown by one who doesn't have much and has to value the few shirts he has, including the one on his back. His pants are aged as well, sporting a hole at left knee cap. But in this case, it was definitely a strategically located tear for stylish looks, but from squatting on it repeatedly.
Slipping a coin in, he frantically pushes in 12 digits, memorized at the back of his head. He nervously tugs at the handset cord, waiting for a reply. The unknown person at the other end picks up, and he puts in coin after coin, urgently relaying his message across whilst repeating his nervous cord-tugging. Numerous coins later, he puts the phone down with a sigh of relief, but looks dismally into his coin pouch. Before walking away, he puts his fingers into the coin return compartment, hoping some of his shillings were not taken, or hoping that perhaps someone else had left theirs behind. He does the same for the other two booths. His prying fingers find nothing in it to please them.
Not willing to give up, he kicks the litter strewn over the ground casually to search for perhaps, some forgotten or hidden treasure - coins, valuables- anything carelesly dropped in the hustle and bustle of those rushing to and fro from the wet market nearby. He finds none.
Her shameless observations are disrupted by two raps on the window- Her mother had finished with her errand, and wanted the doors opened. Leaning over, she unlocks the doors. She focuses her attention back on the man again. This time, he notices someone watching him. He stares back at her, almost indignant at being found out about.
As her mother drives away, she is humbled by the plight of the phoneless and poor. So much for wishing for the latest and trendiest phone, eh?
She muses to herself...
Dang it! If only I had one of those Quirky Qwerty phones or a cool touch screen phone. Doesn't have to be an I Phone- la... they're rather user unfriendly , but a Samsung Star would do.. Or just one of those Nokia N-series with their excellent 5.0 megapixel cameras...
*huffs and puffs*
Reclining in her chair and listening to the lazy cajoling of bossa nova music, she turns her attention to the dilapidated phone booths in front of her.
Who uses them anymore, anyways? They're just used to test the strength of vandals. The stronger you are, the more of that phone booth follows you home. She smiles to herself, recalling a friend of hers who brazenly yanked a whole phoneset-handle, coinbox, the works... off the booth. It now sits as a trophy in his rented house.
Just then, an Indonesian man, face scrunched up after years of hard labour, comes to one of the phone booths. His skin is wizened and tanned, with a tattered blue baseball cap shielding him from the scorching sun. His shirt is nary to brag about, but kept clean nonetheless- care shown by one who doesn't have much and has to value the few shirts he has, including the one on his back. His pants are aged as well, sporting a hole at left knee cap. But in this case, it was definitely a strategically located tear for stylish looks, but from squatting on it repeatedly.
Slipping a coin in, he frantically pushes in 12 digits, memorized at the back of his head. He nervously tugs at the handset cord, waiting for a reply. The unknown person at the other end picks up, and he puts in coin after coin, urgently relaying his message across whilst repeating his nervous cord-tugging. Numerous coins later, he puts the phone down with a sigh of relief, but looks dismally into his coin pouch. Before walking away, he puts his fingers into the coin return compartment, hoping some of his shillings were not taken, or hoping that perhaps someone else had left theirs behind. He does the same for the other two booths. His prying fingers find nothing in it to please them.
Not willing to give up, he kicks the litter strewn over the ground casually to search for perhaps, some forgotten or hidden treasure - coins, valuables- anything carelesly dropped in the hustle and bustle of those rushing to and fro from the wet market nearby. He finds none.
Her shameless observations are disrupted by two raps on the window- Her mother had finished with her errand, and wanted the doors opened. Leaning over, she unlocks the doors. She focuses her attention back on the man again. This time, he notices someone watching him. He stares back at her, almost indignant at being found out about.
As her mother drives away, she is humbled by the plight of the phoneless and poor. So much for wishing for the latest and trendiest phone, eh?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Bittersweet Bday.
Ah.... Another year's passed, a year older, a year wiser... perhaps.
The day begun with me waking up at eleven, realizing that I could not sleep well, was grumpy cause mum was snoring. But even worse, it was marred because I had to dream of him. I had to dream that he regretted, and came back to me. Where he realized that she was a total scheming manipulative bitch, and actually missed me. How pathetic. I had to dream about us being close and caring and loving...it was alll such a haze, yet so real. Even in my dreams, the bitter pill of regret and sorrow came washing through me. I almost died in my dreams. Whether of happiness or sadness, I do not know. I guess this is what John Mayer meant by his song 'Dreaming with A Broken Heart', where waking up was the hardest part.
It's painful, and the schoing pain and loneliness still sears through me. But it is my birthday wish that nothing ever hurts me as much as this again, and that I will not be looking and have the courage to remain single. To enjoy my newfound freedom, and learn to spend more time with friends. =) At least facebook helped to remind my friends it was my bday, got some wisheds from long lost friends, unexpected ppl. But was inda upset I didn't get wishes from those I wanted to hear from. I may want him to go thru pain like I did, but would I want anyone to feel like what I did? It's too cruel a wish.
Although he messaged me just last friday, A message that seemed so formal and like he was coerced into sending it by his family members or silislut, so that I don't give her a hard time during induction... It sounded stg like this ... ' I know we ended our relationship badly. I want to thank you for making me the man I am today. Blabla happy holidays. Take Care.'
And I so wanted to reply (sorry for bimbotic english... so wanted to is totally Americanised)
...'If I made you the lying cheating man that you are today, then I must truly apologize. You have disappointed and disgusted me, and I have no respect for you or her whatsoever.Good riddance to bad rubbish'
However,I wish too that my spiritual walk will be strengthened. Since I have read 'the Shack' in which a father whose daughter was murdered in the worst possible manner imagined -an open ended question, as her body was never found - had to learn to forgive his daughter's murderer, what more I, over a relationship that was never meant to be anyway. It was all in His/(Her? -God's portrayed as a black woman in the Shack) plan. But if time really is the best prescription, I hope that I won't wish for it to fly by in such a manner that I won't fill it wit meaningful happenings and relationships with others, just to get over the sadness. But that I will seize each day as it comes, have a brighter outlook in life and be much less of a grouch that complains incessantly. Like my mother put it, I really do not want to sound like my aunty, whose highlight of the day is dessicating her food with a pair of scissors she whips out from her handbag, lest she complains bout her digestive system and poor bladder and bowel control for the rest of the day. Ahahahah.
The rest of the day, anyway, was pretty eventful. Dim Sum with damily and bro's friends, played Scrabble and a bit of Bowling Wii, and had wonderful Vietnamese food for dinner. Oh, and awesome cheesecake made by my bro's friends gf for his belated bday. But it was my bday, so I tumpang glamour also la. Hahaha.
Would like to depart with a message I saw donned outside a really quaint Suburban Church;
'7 days without prayer makes One Weak'
Hope to be able to practice more prayer! Don't wanna be weak..
The day begun with me waking up at eleven, realizing that I could not sleep well, was grumpy cause mum was snoring. But even worse, it was marred because I had to dream of him. I had to dream that he regretted, and came back to me. Where he realized that she was a total scheming manipulative bitch, and actually missed me. How pathetic. I had to dream about us being close and caring and loving...it was alll such a haze, yet so real. Even in my dreams, the bitter pill of regret and sorrow came washing through me. I almost died in my dreams. Whether of happiness or sadness, I do not know. I guess this is what John Mayer meant by his song 'Dreaming with A Broken Heart', where waking up was the hardest part.
It's painful, and the schoing pain and loneliness still sears through me. But it is my birthday wish that nothing ever hurts me as much as this again, and that I will not be looking and have the courage to remain single. To enjoy my newfound freedom, and learn to spend more time with friends. =) At least facebook helped to remind my friends it was my bday, got some wisheds from long lost friends, unexpected ppl. But was inda upset I didn't get wishes from those I wanted to hear from. I may want him to go thru pain like I did, but would I want anyone to feel like what I did? It's too cruel a wish.
Although he messaged me just last friday, A message that seemed so formal and like he was coerced into sending it by his family members or silislut, so that I don't give her a hard time during induction... It sounded stg like this ... ' I know we ended our relationship badly. I want to thank you for making me the man I am today. Blabla happy holidays. Take Care.'
And I so wanted to reply (sorry for bimbotic english... so wanted to is totally Americanised)
...'If I made you the lying cheating man that you are today, then I must truly apologize. You have disappointed and disgusted me, and I have no respect for you or her whatsoever.Good riddance to bad rubbish'
However,I wish too that my spiritual walk will be strengthened. Since I have read 'the Shack' in which a father whose daughter was murdered in the worst possible manner imagined -an open ended question, as her body was never found - had to learn to forgive his daughter's murderer, what more I, over a relationship that was never meant to be anyway. It was all in His/(Her? -God's portrayed as a black woman in the Shack) plan. But if time really is the best prescription, I hope that I won't wish for it to fly by in such a manner that I won't fill it wit meaningful happenings and relationships with others, just to get over the sadness. But that I will seize each day as it comes, have a brighter outlook in life and be much less of a grouch that complains incessantly. Like my mother put it, I really do not want to sound like my aunty, whose highlight of the day is dessicating her food with a pair of scissors she whips out from her handbag, lest she complains bout her digestive system and poor bladder and bowel control for the rest of the day. Ahahahah.
The rest of the day, anyway, was pretty eventful. Dim Sum with damily and bro's friends, played Scrabble and a bit of Bowling Wii, and had wonderful Vietnamese food for dinner. Oh, and awesome cheesecake made by my bro's friends gf for his belated bday. But it was my bday, so I tumpang glamour also la. Hahaha.
Would like to depart with a message I saw donned outside a really quaint Suburban Church;
'7 days without prayer makes One Weak'
Hope to be able to practice more prayer! Don't wanna be weak..
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Afterword...
Am now in a cyber cafe
'Ma hai! Lei mo kau chor ar....'
And "F*** man, that motherf***** just f****** killed me'
I never knew that the word f*** could be used multiple times in the same sentence, with so little variation.
The word f*** has really lost any of it's coolness and power to vent frustration, when used by tiny lil pipsqueaks whose voices haven't even cracked.
Back home, after it's all been over.
A sad feeling washed over me as I left the college. Although I hsould be happy that the arduous journey has been over, I must admit that I'll miss hanging out and doing these things:
1) pretending to do ward work everytime we thought we heart the footsteps of a lecturer coming nearer, and resuming to out silly banter after knowing it was just a hospital staff.
2) lunch time and girl-watching together with the guys, and pairing them up with the ever-so-sexy Mr. Sin Hoe...
3) Hanging out at that lil cafeteria table, and gossiping over tea, and angrily giving the look-of-death to others who occupied the table (Unicorn Club, anyone?)
4) The daily banter between me and S and J, where we would gaily make fun of each other. S would be called the bimbo, I would bear the honorary title of Shit-Face (cause it's sour most of the time-sorry la my facial muscles have a spasm) and J being... ah nothing to call her la I just call her a bitch or puki-face. Hahahaha...( Luckily my Mum doesn't know my blog exists)
5) The occasional clubbing sessions which we would all do our embarassing dances, but S of course would just sit and grin at us shaking her head
6) The few Coffee Bean sessions I've had with my friends, and chit-chatting as much as we possible could in the final days of uni life.
Snifff Sniffff I really miss you guys! Love you all, and although only 4 ppl know of this blog, I dedicate all my love to you guys anyway. Thank you for making Uni days so beautiful for me... =) May the Lord bless and quide you all to the best that you will possibly be... and allow me to be the God Mum of your kids.
'Ma hai! Lei mo kau chor ar....'
And "F*** man, that motherf***** just f****** killed me'
I never knew that the word f*** could be used multiple times in the same sentence, with so little variation.
The word f*** has really lost any of it's coolness and power to vent frustration, when used by tiny lil pipsqueaks whose voices haven't even cracked.
Back home, after it's all been over.
A sad feeling washed over me as I left the college. Although I hsould be happy that the arduous journey has been over, I must admit that I'll miss hanging out and doing these things:
1) pretending to do ward work everytime we thought we heart the footsteps of a lecturer coming nearer, and resuming to out silly banter after knowing it was just a hospital staff.
2) lunch time and girl-watching together with the guys, and pairing them up with the ever-so-sexy Mr. Sin Hoe...
3) Hanging out at that lil cafeteria table, and gossiping over tea, and angrily giving the look-of-death to others who occupied the table (Unicorn Club, anyone?)
4) The daily banter between me and S and J, where we would gaily make fun of each other. S would be called the bimbo, I would bear the honorary title of Shit-Face (cause it's sour most of the time-sorry la my facial muscles have a spasm) and J being... ah nothing to call her la I just call her a bitch or puki-face. Hahahaha...( Luckily my Mum doesn't know my blog exists)
5) The occasional clubbing sessions which we would all do our embarassing dances, but S of course would just sit and grin at us shaking her head
6) The few Coffee Bean sessions I've had with my friends, and chit-chatting as much as we possible could in the final days of uni life.
Snifff Sniffff I really miss you guys! Love you all, and although only 4 ppl know of this blog, I dedicate all my love to you guys anyway. Thank you for making Uni days so beautiful for me... =) May the Lord bless and quide you all to the best that you will possibly be... and allow me to be the God Mum of your kids.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Joys
Thank God for the business of my days, and friends who fill it up with ideas and plans. Without J, J and S, I would be stuck in that valley of despair for a much longer time.
Truly, being single has reminded me of the joys of not having another half to think about all the time. Now that I am free to oblige to so many others, I shall do so. Why stick around to make only one person happy, when you can divide yourself to do so with others? Why leave this place, knowing with uncertainty, that all that time has been spent with someone who can't guarantee me security (Let's take things one day at a time was a tagline), when I can leave this place knowing I have spent time laughing and going through the ups and downs of uni life, the joys and the pains, with so many others?
So I say, adios to relationships and all their burdens, and Welcome to singledom and freedom.
An ex of mine said I don't know how to think for two yet- that may be true, so I just might need to find someone like me, so we can think for our ownselves independantly, but knowing, at the end of the day- That we belong to each other. Trust and commitment without all the hoo-ha and constant maintainence, like some puppy that needs toilet training.
Thank you for the pain you've put me through, to know that enough is enough.
Truly, being single has reminded me of the joys of not having another half to think about all the time. Now that I am free to oblige to so many others, I shall do so. Why stick around to make only one person happy, when you can divide yourself to do so with others? Why leave this place, knowing with uncertainty, that all that time has been spent with someone who can't guarantee me security (Let's take things one day at a time was a tagline), when I can leave this place knowing I have spent time laughing and going through the ups and downs of uni life, the joys and the pains, with so many others?
So I say, adios to relationships and all their burdens, and Welcome to singledom and freedom.
An ex of mine said I don't know how to think for two yet- that may be true, so I just might need to find someone like me, so we can think for our ownselves independantly, but knowing, at the end of the day- That we belong to each other. Trust and commitment without all the hoo-ha and constant maintainence, like some puppy that needs toilet training.
Thank you for the pain you've put me through, to know that enough is enough.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Taken for Granted.
You bring her out everywhere, to the movies, to romantic places.
What was I to you then, all these 2 years?
We only went to the movies like, 4 times. Making it a 6 monthly thing.
And going to Pak Putra, is really really far for you?
I hope you take a fucking long walk of a short pier, and let that pier be Jetty.
Really, what was I to you, all these years? A piece of earwax?
You say you've been taken for granted?
I beg to differ.
What was I to you then, all these 2 years?
We only went to the movies like, 4 times. Making it a 6 monthly thing.
And going to Pak Putra, is really really far for you?
I hope you take a fucking long walk of a short pier, and let that pier be Jetty.
Really, what was I to you, all these years? A piece of earwax?
You say you've been taken for granted?
I beg to differ.
Distance and Disgust
There is more distance between us now, which is good. Won't have to see your acromegalic face with your prognathic facies in the wards, at least. Out of the 4 weeks in wards, I have yet to clerk a proper case. But at least now, I'll have more peace of mind.
The weekends in KL have been therapeutic for me, because being with friends back home remind me that there's so much more to life than relationships, more to life than medicine.
Friendly banter between one another, camwhoring, makan-ing and plain reminiscence, brings me back to childhood days when life was so much simpler. When we didn't have to think of what to wear,( because it was between that pinafore and that baju kurung ) or whether our shoes matched them (because it was either white or muddy pallas shoes that could be fixed in seconds with kiwi white). Not to mention, our only concern was what to have for lunch and that game of 'baling kasut' we would have as kids.
Of course, nostalgia is not all that binds us together. We talk about common interests, the future... what shaped us and what we would like to be shaped into.
Back to my topic...
There is noting but disgust filled in my heart for you. It's been too tiring to be angry, but your actions just make me feel plain disgusted. The fact that you don't care at all about my feelings, or what others would think about you, just shows how selfish and shameless you are.
How dare you make me feel like it was all my fault when it's so clear that you only did it to make me feel shitty and as small as an amoeba on the toilet bowl?
How dare you play the friends card to make me feel so lousy about myself, something you've been doing even before we got together? Remember when you used to say how others were angry at me or whatsoever? And make up so many stories to back them up, when I clarified it with others, and they're now true at all.
How dare you say that I have so many friends now, and that I should stop talking to them about you and silislut? And that your family was the one backing you up and giving you all the support, and then tell X that your parents are furious with you now? So which one is it, jackass? Make up your mind. It can't be that hard, considering how much there is.
Mr-Inferiority-Complex...
Tell me why then, back there, I had to burn bridges and fall out with our fellow housemades bacause they made a pact against YOU?
Why did I have to burn my 8 month deposit to move out and away from all the calamities that ensued soon after?
Why they had no reason to be angry about you, when as a matter of fact, all you do is bitch about them. You came down EVERY NIGHT to complain about white boy, who I continuously backed up, until you became offended. Well, that's why you shouldn't bich about your best friend.
Well, you and her suit each other just fine. She bitches about her best friend, and so do you.
Tell me why, I have the same circle of friends from first year, but you don't keep yours? You're friend hopping every now and then, and the only two by your side now are ungrateful imbeciles who sat in my beat up car whilst you drove them around.
Good riddance to bad rubbish. Pardon me for the look of disgust on my face, but it's something that can't be helped. It's a reflex for someone like you.
The weekends in KL have been therapeutic for me, because being with friends back home remind me that there's so much more to life than relationships, more to life than medicine.
Friendly banter between one another, camwhoring, makan-ing and plain reminiscence, brings me back to childhood days when life was so much simpler. When we didn't have to think of what to wear,( because it was between that pinafore and that baju kurung ) or whether our shoes matched them (because it was either white or muddy pallas shoes that could be fixed in seconds with kiwi white). Not to mention, our only concern was what to have for lunch and that game of 'baling kasut' we would have as kids.
Of course, nostalgia is not all that binds us together. We talk about common interests, the future... what shaped us and what we would like to be shaped into.
Back to my topic...
There is noting but disgust filled in my heart for you. It's been too tiring to be angry, but your actions just make me feel plain disgusted. The fact that you don't care at all about my feelings, or what others would think about you, just shows how selfish and shameless you are.
How dare you make me feel like it was all my fault when it's so clear that you only did it to make me feel shitty and as small as an amoeba on the toilet bowl?
How dare you play the friends card to make me feel so lousy about myself, something you've been doing even before we got together? Remember when you used to say how others were angry at me or whatsoever? And make up so many stories to back them up, when I clarified it with others, and they're now true at all.
How dare you say that I have so many friends now, and that I should stop talking to them about you and silislut? And that your family was the one backing you up and giving you all the support, and then tell X that your parents are furious with you now? So which one is it, jackass? Make up your mind. It can't be that hard, considering how much there is.
Mr-Inferiority-Complex...
Tell me why then, back there, I had to burn bridges and fall out with our fellow housemades bacause they made a pact against YOU?
Why did I have to burn my 8 month deposit to move out and away from all the calamities that ensued soon after?
Why they had no reason to be angry about you, when as a matter of fact, all you do is bitch about them. You came down EVERY NIGHT to complain about white boy, who I continuously backed up, until you became offended. Well, that's why you shouldn't bich about your best friend.
Well, you and her suit each other just fine. She bitches about her best friend, and so do you.
Tell me why, I have the same circle of friends from first year, but you don't keep yours? You're friend hopping every now and then, and the only two by your side now are ungrateful imbeciles who sat in my beat up car whilst you drove them around.
Good riddance to bad rubbish. Pardon me for the look of disgust on my face, but it's something that can't be helped. It's a reflex for someone like you.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Vacation.
Here in Pangkor now(Lumut, actually), and it's been a fun day so far.
Played scrabble and of course I'm not as good as someone, who's memorized all the two letter words..
But thanks to my family and friends, I can forget a little more.
The more I think of you, the more I think we're not meant for each other.
The sparks were there initially, but then life became mundane, with us going through the same routine, talking about the same old things.
Me listening to you belittle so many others, and wondering occasionally why you were so full of spite and hate. Perhaps I'm also like you, which is why we're not meant for each other- Too much harping and complaining- We didn't build each other up, we merely cast negative energy on each other, making us tired and withdrawn.
Perhaps distance would have made the heart grow fonder, but I never felt any love but mere frustration in the past two years. There were no dates - I practically had to beg to be taken to the movies- Felt kinda bored and taken for granted. Sigh. But then again, you did make those delicious sandwiches for me. Guess I just wanted you around too much, a sign of dependance.
Sometimes, however, I wonder... Do I love you, or just the things you do for me?
Two different entities altogether, but similiar and so very misleading.
This is something I have yet to figure out.
Played scrabble and of course I'm not as good as someone, who's memorized all the two letter words..
But thanks to my family and friends, I can forget a little more.
The more I think of you, the more I think we're not meant for each other.
The sparks were there initially, but then life became mundane, with us going through the same routine, talking about the same old things.
Me listening to you belittle so many others, and wondering occasionally why you were so full of spite and hate. Perhaps I'm also like you, which is why we're not meant for each other- Too much harping and complaining- We didn't build each other up, we merely cast negative energy on each other, making us tired and withdrawn.
Perhaps distance would have made the heart grow fonder, but I never felt any love but mere frustration in the past two years. There were no dates - I practically had to beg to be taken to the movies- Felt kinda bored and taken for granted. Sigh. But then again, you did make those delicious sandwiches for me. Guess I just wanted you around too much, a sign of dependance.
Sometimes, however, I wonder... Do I love you, or just the things you do for me?
Two different entities altogether, but similiar and so very misleading.
This is something I have yet to figure out.
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