with |ove; me

Sunday, June 17, 2007

i spent two and a half years with him,
and i'm sorry that i seem to harp on about the length of time,
but for a sixteen year old, it is quite a lot.
especially for a first proper relationship.

don't we all promise forever and ever and ever?
and swear that all hearts will only beat for each other?
i only make those kind of promises when i really feel like it's not an empty promise.
so when i finally said that,
you could say i was committed.

quite

and didn't the whole world know it.
but now

but now

you've broken up
and you harp on to her and her on all the rest of them as well,
how much attention i get,
how i return it
and how it's not good for one to have such a "quality".
so you know,
since you think that,
then i'll assume us ever having a relationship ever again
is completely out of the question.

you ask me if i'm waiting,
but i'm cut off before i can give you a proper answer.
so here,
for whoever there is to see,
this is my answer, uncut and uninterrupted.

Yes, i am waiting for you. i want to.
and i almost hate myself for that.

this weekend, you haven't exactly been the warmest creature.
how is it that you'll kiss me,
to last me the weekend,
and the whole weekend when we're in closer proximity than usual,
it seems like you're further away than ever?

it's terribly unfair on me.
but gawd,
life is never fair.

as much as i want to wait for you,
i cannot hold onto the hope that one day, one day,
you're gonna ask me to be yours again.
what am i to say,
when that time comes?

am i to drop,
and just forget everything i've had to go through?
night after night of tears,
too much liqueur and as much pills as i dare to pop into my mouth?
do i just,
put it out of my mind, say yes and then
wonder about when the stress is gonna be too much for you
all over again and fear the moment you'll leave me all over again?
am i supposed to do that?
tell me,
am i?

so,
if only just a little bit,
i find myself needing to let go of you,
bit by bit.
why not the occasional drink, tattoo, piercing,
even smoke, perhaps,
because i can? supposedly anyway.

everyday is a battle,
and til today,
guess what?
i still find myself crying myself to sleep.

i know i could,
i could probably throw myself into the world and let all else take over.
fuck around and cut contact completely.
i could become someone you'd never know.
but somehow i'm not doing that.
Doesn't matter to you anyway

obviously you're fine with believing i've been sleeping around,
you believe too, that i gossip behind your back.

the older generation's inclined to believe that the problem with sleeping with guys,
is that they question your integrity,
adamant on believing that,
if we can sleep with one guy, we've probably slept with everyone else.

my answer to you,
here in this blogpost,
was intended to be sugary sweet, but straight from the heart.
now,
it's stained with my tears.
i hope it's real enough for you now.

a part of me,
will always be waiting for you.
but i really don't want to talk to you anymore.
i don't need you telling me that you're sure i've been sleeping around.
i don't need you calling me to ask me if there's someone else in bed with me.
i don't need you implying that i am a slut,
because i'm not.

i don't need to keep crying over you,
every single night.
because you know what?
i'm fucking tired of doing that.

and even though i can't,
maybe i've gotta stop loving you,
so i won't keep feeling this way.

- xoxo
charis loves you
7:13 PM

Comments: Post a Comment

only yours baby

i'm charis vera Ng,
i'm NOT a Singaporean, i was born in UK
but i spent most of my four years in scotland
i love alastair(:
i'm doing my best to live for God though i often fail miserably

ok,try this:
you're this girl who's flown over to this country when you're no more than four years of age
you resent your dad for it,
and it doesn't help when things between your parents don't work out either.

so you miss your home terribly,
you miss going strawberry-picking,
you miss eating boiled eggs out of egg-cups
and you miss warm and cuddly Uncle John and Aunty Esther.

instead,
you find yourself forced to change
and adapt in a horribly hot place
where in primary school,
you meet cold,heartless little kids who ignore you and don't let you play "family"
just cos your accent is different.
early on,
you get weird looks and you find yourself going for recess breaks alone.
your classmates complain to the class teacher when you call them stupid
because they don't understand what to you is simple english.
but they leave you alone when you call them an imbecile
because they don't know what it means.
your primary 1 & 2 class teacher takes joy in complaining to your mummy
because she detests you.
she detests you for constantly correcting her english grammer and pronunciation in front of the class
you soon realize that you can actually gain and keep friends upon them finding out your mother's an actress
but by that time you've more or less forced yourself to lose your accent which makes communication a lot easier anyway.

that was the little girl charis,
now,
on top of that,
i can be a total biotch sometimes, towards people.
and don't tell me you aren't sometimes please.
but i try my very best not to bitch about people.
im a dangerous shopper(=
i never know what i want or need til i see it.

i don't like television.
now that's a first innit?HAH.
bet you never knew someone who didn't like tv
well i don't
and i'm not trying to be different and difficult
it's noisy and boring
i like music:)
i find eating a chore but i love snacking
figure that out
i find certain kinds of pain addictive,
no, i promise i'm still sane.

which is actually pretty remarkable for someone living here,
in this time and place
where you normally get loads of homework,
tests with questions that look like they're in foreign language,
and where everything's a competition to be the best,
the prettiest,
the most popular,
the most hated,
the thinnest,
the fattest, the coolest
the list goes on.
one shouldn't try to be something you're not,
but everyone knows that's easier said than done.
like duurh.