Back to the hiding hole.

Little voice in my head says:

You're a coward.

This is like talking to myself. Again.

Well, I'm back. Back to this old hiding hole. Because sometimes, when you REALLY need to express certain thoughts, well, you shouldn't rely on those over-used social networking sites (Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr...)

In a way, I'm glad Blogger is sorta dead. I guess.

So it's been almost a year since my last post. A lot has happened really. Went to Canada, finished my freshman year, back now, leaving soon...

...Still very very very much crazy over you.

This is so stupid.

To be very honest, deep down, I feel sort of, disregarded. Like, I'm not sure if my actions actually speak my mind. Am I being too vague? I thought I was being friggin obvious. But then again, as always, you have me believe that you pretend not to see it. So I pretend too.

And allllll this pretending got me this winded up.

I hate to see you sad, because when you do, in a way, you're sort of like me. You let sadness drown you. I know how it feels. Maybe you might disagree, but at least I can empathize.

I know you are hurting. It hurts me too. hurts me more actually. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I've been hurting way longer. 4 years soon really.

But I'm not here to like, compare our sufferings. Don't we all believe that our own pain is the greatest of all?

Do you know how hard it is for me to see you suffer like this? And even harder and tougher for me to hold it in when I know you're crying over someone else? I want to be that friend that comforts you, but my feelings for you get in the way, and I become bitter. God help me, you're gonna hate me for this, but when you do cry over him, part of me just wants you to suffer. Because I'm angry, bitter, jealous....

What kind of friend am I? I'm ashamed, really. But, like you, I can't control my feelings well.

There are times when I feel I'm desperate. And during those times, I force my fantasies to come true. I see things that aren't even there. When you jokingly play with me, I think of it as you flirting with me. When you put your arm around my shoulder or waist, I think of it as you wanting to hold me forever. When you smile at me, I think of it as you having feelings for me, as strong as the ones I have for you.

My delusions are the ones that are killing me inside, not you. I know this, but I insist on putting the blame on you. It's easier to be angry at someone else.

It all comes down to this:

I know. Trust me, I KNOW. I know that what I've been hoping for all these years will never come to pass. I know that what I want from you is impossible. I know I should stop all this delusional dreaming and ramblings of mine and MOVE ON. I know that I will never be good enough for you, that you will never see me in that way, that I can't be the one to make you happy.

Yet, it's because that I know all this, I want you even more. Doesn't make sense to me, but yes, I love you. I hate using the word love, because it is often misused, and the media has turned it into something so clichéd. I blame those hollywood romance crap they feed us that we seem to thrive on.

But those are my honest feelings, which will never reach you.

I guess that's it for now. I've said what I shouldn't have said. But fuck this, I'm hurting too.

And I just want you to know that.