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Picking up the pieces

Some people knew I was in love. Some people guessed who is the lucky or unlucky guy. I knew of 2 of you out there who is still keeping the list on the possible guys on who I had set my eyes upon and are still guessing who is this guy are.

I hate talking about this now. As you might had noticed, I had grown cynical and somehow disillusioned about love. And I don't believe in love anymore. At least from my part, my life. I believe it happens to everyone else. I believe people could love me. I believe people could love each other. I don't believe the person that I love would love me back. I find it increasingly hard to believe I could love again. Maybe a different kind of love. Not that kind of love again.

It is sad. I first open this particular post wanting to say I wanted to move on. Just when I am about to type on how I wanted to move on, I got to know.. well something.... And I know I that I was wrong. I had not move on. I particularly hate myself now. I don't hate him, no, no, not at all. He had cleared himself of all blame. You know, put the "The management are not responsible for the loss of ....." before you park your car kinda notice. It is rather a good idea. I have to admit.

But whatever right? I am still young. I am sure this will pass. This got to pass. Or I would go mad trying to keep myself from feeling like an idiot. Your worst enemy is yourself. My low self esteem for this, I could only blame myself.

I just wish I could blame someone. Or something. Maybe ... herm.. but SssSShhhh~ some dreams are just too fragile and too beautiful to say out loud. If I disturbed it, it would then break apart in many pieces.

Important Note: I am not feeling particularly well the past days. So please do not blame/marah/felt dissapointed with me on this post since I am heavily under the influence of medicine and irritating bad health to post this without screaming how embarassed I am.

Nuffnang

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