I feel so tore apart. Tore apart from the truth that I’ll
never be the right one , tore apart from the corner of my heart that’s hurts so
terribly much. I’m trying very hard not to get hurt again. But I’m mind-fucking
myself so badly that it hurts more than it seems.
Suddenly everything seems so clear, like the cards have been
laid out there and you just denied to see the presence of those cards.
You want to tell yourself ‘No, it doesn’t matter it doesn’t
hurt ‘But it does hurt, and it hurts that badly. Then why do we always keep
searching for the right one? Does it really exist? Why do we have rules that we
want to be abide so that they’d be the right one? Is it so important to have
the right one, the perfect one? Or have someone you know that nothing matters,
and you’ll still love them the same way ? Does it really matters that much to
locate the perfect one?
Then in the first place, why follow your heart? Why not just
follow your mind? Because if you follow your heart, it’s based on chemistry, it’s
based on purely love. But if you follow your mind it’s based on rules you want
them to abide to become ‘The One ‘. So I guess, you can’t hate truth, you can’t
love them either. Either they’re something worth elating bout, or they’re
something worth a gallon of tears.
Then why do we seek for truth so badly? Does it ease the pain?
It doesn’t. It sort of adds on to the
pain. Don’t you ever want to know you’re perfect for someone? That you can love
without thinking about the consequences? Why do we have to go through so many
huddles to realize that you’re not the perfect one for them? Perfection doesn’t
exist, but we are seek for that perfection.
I used to think I was perfectionist in everything, then I realize
I wasn’t in love. I wasn’t particular about who I love, but how much chemistry I
could have with that person. If I fell in love logically, I don’t think I’ll
ever fell in love. I’d walk away at all times,
thinking about how burden a relationship can be.
Guess some things are so predictable. Here today, gone tomorrow.
Maybe my mom is right, there’s no perfect one. IF there’s, I can be never that
perfect one. It’s so tough, so tiring, so ……. I ought to thank my mom who
watches me walk around with wine in my hand and not questioning further.
Its okay, I guess in the end the truth are always
devastating. I need to wake up from my fantasy; It’s going to work anymore. Torn
apart because of the truth …
I wish I had the right words to say, right words to put in.
But I don’t. I’m bad at conversations, I’m bad at it. I’m just good at being
comedian, good at business presentation. But I’m never good in relationship
context. It just sucks if I were force
to explain, because I couldn’t find the right words to put across.
Maybe being the best wasn’t what I was elite at, I guess I’m
just good at being the worse of all. I feel so lemon now, feel so weak, feel so
awful.
But it’s better than being keep mum. When everyone doubt me,
I wanted to prove so badly because I had a reason, I had motivation. But now....
I should just let everyone doubt me instead. I’d feel better than being so
awful here. I’m so stuck, I don’t know what to do, what to say anymore. I just wish
I could get it out of mind, I just want to go away and lay low and not
communicate with anyone.
I guess sooner or later, you should find out I can never be
the one. X
