Dear Diary,
The opportunities were rather elusive the past three days and so the things I have been meaning to tell him have, likewise, been haltingly locked up somewhere inside. Something is not right – that – I feel. And I think that ‘that something’ is springing abundantly from me. Its a concotion of immaturity, insecurities and everything that comes in between. Knowing where I stand in this process makes me boneless, helpless, rightless and voiceless. I know how a single wrong word may turn things a disaster. This stuff doesn’t give frailty a room. Maybe it’s just me but I’m hurting. He probably does not have an idea how, when, why and what. And just as it is me, I’d probably keep my silence.
Last Wednesday, I was closed to being used to about how we communicate. You know, the usual stuff, I would receive a message long before he has gotten in – which by the way, would have been the first and last message of the day. And things go on right after that. Circling to that effect.
In my anticipation, I grabbed california maki few blocks away from here. In my sweet nothing message I quote: “You deserve a great guy. FYI, I’m great. Please forgive my spur-of-the-moment insecurities and overly cute immaturities. 1 down, 50 more to go”
The weekends were the toughest albeit, craziest. And even if he asks, I would not tell.
It weakened me, really. I wanted to take some time off and resolve my own issues. And then I go. Nasasaktan ako.
