that's how i feel like right now. after all that physics report and thesis fixing, i can finally write down what i actually feel.
by a thread. i'm hanging by a thread. a thread held by no other than the person i'm almost crazy over.
sometimes, after reflecting long and hard after what i've done or said, and after reading what he said in reply, i just don't know if he's being too kind, too sweet or what. i dunno.
he's being awfully nice. really sweet and sickly nice. it's eating away at me. me and my will power. it's chocking me to the point that i can't breath, i can't think.
the way that his words seemed double edged. with every reply, i feel like i've been sent both to heaven and to hell. i feel like i'm too happy for words and too lost for any of them. i feel confused. is this really what he's saying or is there anything behind them at all?
that's how i see every text message. that's how i see every reply. i don't know if i'm over-analyzing my situation, but think about it.
recently, i've just been told by my ex that i wasn't the type of person he would go for. as far as i'm concerned, he must've been referring to the outer shell than the inner shell.
that's how all guys see it right? they look at what's outside first before they actually see the inside. and that's what's troubling me.
and for god's sake, we're in Manila! we're in a capital where beauty is everything: where skin should be white, not brown, where hair should be straight when it wasn't really created that way, where chests should be ultimately huge and to be liken to melons, where girls should be able to wear skirts so tiny that it reaches up to their underwear.
i'm not like that though... but i'm not saying he likes those either. what i'm saying is that in every guy, he looks for this stereotype-girl. a girl with a petite frame, lovely hair, dazzling eyes, white skin, charming smile, vain (to some extent), cute, lovable... well, a girl any guy could proudly show off to his friends and procclaim to the world as 'mine'.
i'm not like that...
but why are you being so nice? couldn't you just say that i look horrible, that i look too ordinary to be shown off, to have a dry, senseless taste in humor and the like, that i have nothing, not even one good quality to be proud of...
why can't you just say that i don't stand a chance? why can't you just say that we can't be together?
you're awfully nice. you're leading me on. you're giving me this false hope.
why can't you just end my suffering?
stop it. please.
you're killing me.