:::Scraps:::

Dear Friend,

I hate how I know that you’re suffering right now. I hate how I know that you hate it at school. I hate how the people there are being bitches to you and you can’t even escape because the friends you DO have are in different courses. I hate how you have changed, not in character or attitude because i won’t ever fault you for that, but the change in your heart. I hate how you still appear to be happy and bright online but sound and look like the opposite when I see you or talk to you on the phone. I hate how I look at your tweets or facebook updates and think to myself “She’s faking it.”

I hate how i haven’t done anything. I hate how I keep saying that I’ll be there for you but knowing that it just isn’t the same when we’re in different schools and can only communicate through texts and the once-in-a-blue-moon call when neither of us can bear the nostalgia any longer than we can hold our breaths. I hate that I used to think of you doing that practiced trademark smile of yours but now the first thing that comes to mind is your beaten expression, tired out on your birthday.

Crying. Questioning. Defeated. Confused.

I’m sorry that I know how you feel and want to give all the advice and comfort I have but can’t because I lose every little bit of eloquence I have every time I think of how you’re going through everything I did. I’m sorry that you had to be the one to experience all this when I promised myself I wouldn’t let any of my friends get hurt. I’m sorry that you were always the strong one, there for us, there for me, whenever we wanted to give up but I can’t do the same. I’m sorry that me doing my best to help isn’t good enough. I’m sorry that you had to cry on your birthday. I’m sorry that you spent the last few hours just miserable and wanting to give everything up. I’m sorry that I spent those few hours with you but didn’t make you feel any better.

The truth is, it’s hard. You’re the only one who ever really understood when I tell you about what I went through, what my life is like. You’re the first one to have ever given me such a form of relief. You always tell me that I’m strong. When I’m wavering, or even thinking about it, you always somehow appear and give me the best forms of encouragements. You showed me that there is somebody who wants to listen, who wants to understand, who does understand. And that’s the hard part. You did all that for me, but now you’re the one who needs it more but I don’t have your ability to carry the most complex messages across in the simplest ways.

Me? Yes, I’m strong. But you? You’re strong too, if not stronger, and that is the thing that is killing you right now. You’re so strong that you won’t let anyone help you. You tell me not to worry. How can I when you’re obviously falling further and further out of reach? How can I not worry when I know the person who has helped me so much needs help herself but won’t take it? I know you’re strong, I know you’re independent, I know you’re mature. But I also know that if you keep cooping it up like that, you’re going to become like me. And I don’t want you to. Not when you have other options. Because it sucks being me. You’re starting to keep the anger and hurt inside, you’re storing it up, but you don’t realise how venomous it is. You don’t realise that at one point, it’s going to overwhelm you, it’s going to eat you up inside. You’ll start to blame everything and everyone around you, you’ll become hyper-sensitive to the littlest things. Every word out of a stranger’s mouth becomes an insult, every glance that washes over you. But you won’t realise all this. You won’t realise any of this because you’ll be too busy putting up a shell around you. Still trying to be strong on your own. Only now, instead of simply stopping people, you’ll begin to repel them, rejecting and pushing all of them away.

It took me two and a half years to even dare look out of my shell, to even consider taking it down. And now it’s been four years. Four years later and I’m still trying to get out. Bits of the hard armour has been chipped off here and there, much better than before but oh so awkward for me. It’s not fun. It sucks. And I don’t want any of my friends, I don’t want you to have to go through that.

I know you won’t see this, but I love you, we all do. You know we’re here, you know we’re sincere, and I pray that you know how much we want to help you, how much we care and worry even when you tell us not to. Sure, you can get out of this alone, but why risk taking away a few years of your life doing that when you can let us help and make it so much easier? Please don’t feel that you ever have to prove that you are who you are, because we already know, and it’s because we want you to stay that way that we want to do this.

Please. Please stop fighting it yourself, let us help. I miss you. In more ways than anybody can ever express in words. I miss you.

Remember how I said in one of my previous posts that I would/should to start putting up the posts I type in my phone? Yeah. Not working out too well. I’m still typing a LOT in the notes in my phone but.. Never really getting round to actually posting it up.

Been pretty busy lately anyway. (Yes, ha ha, the irony) Let me give you an example, take this week for instance.
Monday- Recce Sentosa with OTC Zone group
Tuesday- Babysitting cousins
Wednesday- Met Sheena at Simei and did up presentation for Saturday. (So TECHNICALLY it was a free day but we made a sudden decision ok?) And family dinner thing
Thursday- Meet up at Airport and meet up with primary school friends.
Friday- Free
Saturday- AOP and meeting
Sunday- Meeting

YES, I know it doesn’t sound like a lot but it IS when things are popping up everywhere at the last minute.
Like Friday. It’s free now, but I bet you anything that by tomorrow, someone or something will come up. The same way the meet ups came up yesterday and promptly filled my previously free Thursday.

On a side note, the free time I have at home have been spent writing fics lately. LOL. Truth be told, I was actually planning to stop posting after putting up chapter 1 and just keep everything else that followed to myself. But then people actually commented and subscribed so..
Yes, I know, I shouldn’t flatter myself since they could just be 10year olds who only understand that the good angels are being sent to earth while the bad angel stays, but whatever, just let me pretend and believe that people actually like the story and want me to continue posting new chapters. It’s nice to have something to focus on and I kind of missed trying to think up good story-lines and writing. (I do NOT, repeat DO NOT, miss SGE though. No. Way. I can’t imagine how she even managed to keep her job.)

It’s 3am and I have to get my power point slides finished before I go for the meetings later. Good luck to me.

Did I mention how much I hate it when people take forever to reply a simple message, especially when it also happens to be critical to what I’m doing?