Diary of the unspoken I
I secretly wish I had not started all of these. In fact, now that it is in motion, I know I could just reverse the affair. Anytime. But.
I do not want to get hurt. Neither do I want him hurt. It is despicable to my taste.
The thought, “will he?”
Every now and then I long for some sort of communiqué to randomly appear. It does not without a purpose, unfortunately. Or was it unfortunately that it is I who expect something more sentimental? Without logical purpose? Or is it because for that sometimes I do get such surprise from that other one across the sea.
I must be thriving for a little schmaltz all my life. The old patriarch has not expressed rightfully as I desired since I have learn to envy, to express, to care and to adore. And because I have liven in such forsaken environment, yet at the same time I was given so much from ones who are not too intimate with me, I am left with not knowing how to deal with uncertainties.
After so much, I believe the best is that I remain as an independent individual. A lonelady. A loneperson. It is much easier.