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Haiya can someone tell me what kind of friends do I have. When I say I have embarassing stories to tell from my last birthday in Alexandar’s, everyone msged me and asked me what is it wtf. All damn kay poh okay wanna know my sia sui stuff. Don’t fret la I say I will tell means I will la. Next few posts okay I promise

In the meantime,

If you read my Twitter (if you notice the new bar at the right side of my blog page) which I update almost hourly..nola just joking maybe daily, then this is the said 40 inch Christmas tree with Grey’s anatomy at the back haha.

And I had trouble to transfer the photos from my handphone because I couldn’t get the bluetooth in the new HP laptop to work I tried asking my friends who were online in the MSN at the time, and their response is “u turn on your bluetooth first la” WTF apparently my friend think I’m dumb like that la!

Sorry the post is done half heartedly haha coz of Grey’s haha. Later I’ll do a proper post Imma sleep nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

The Happy Misfit

There are moments, usually just before I fall asleep, where I remember a conversation between the two of us, months and months before I finally found out the truth about us, and it is only now, in retrospect that I see all the signs. It’s only now that I can read between the lies.

There are days, entire days, when all I want is to see his face. To hear his voice. To lie next to him. To believe in him. To love him. To just be able to love him. I’m ashamed mostly. Ashamed that given the chance, I would like one moment more, one moment more to love him, to bury my face into his chest, to smell him, to breathe him in and hold him inside me, knowing all the while that he is the worst possible kind of liar, that his love was small and selfish, that finally, when given the choice, he will betray me over and over and over again.

I don’t like this new fear that has settled around me. I know the reasons. There was so much betrayal. Such big lies. It’s not them I don’t trust. It’s me. Because, when it comes right down to it? I missed it. I didn’t see it coming. I believed that he loved me. I would have sworn to it, staked my life on it – and in many ways I did. I felt loved. I believed I was loved. And the truth is, I wasn’t. I’m not. How do I keep myself safe now? When I don’t trust myself to see it coming? When, still, still, I can’t believe, really believe the months long ending? When I’m still waiting for a makes sense explanation, when the sting is still so overwhelming? When I failed to see.

- Beautifully written. The Happy Misfit. It’s a pity. It’s a pity that I can identify a writing resonates to me the most clearly.