everything's about timing. today, time stopped when that moment (finally) came.

how should i describe this feeling? relief? not exactly. but i can say it's the answer to my problems as well as a sad ending to my love story. i'm free once again, but at the same time, i want to be tied up.

at the end of the road, i see that this isn't my love story. this is his. since he ends up being happy now, my story comes to an end, too. it just so occurred that we can't be happy together. but this is the way it's supposed to turn out, isn't it?

i'm okay. he needs to be happy. he needs to start over. i'll be okay. i'll go through this all over again, just for him.

maybe i've known for an entire year already. i probably knew all along, but yesterday was the day i officially lost the one friend who meant almost the world to me.

i once meant everything to him, i realized a bit too late. our definition of this connection stood at different levels, and i've always felt regretful that i'm not able to return his feelings. it isn't until that fateful day that i realize... romantic love isn't the most accurate gage of relationships between one another. i have lost way too many people because i've been using romantic love, a certain someone who once brought my life to a dreadful standstill, as the gage, and if the regret isn't enough to make up for my mistakes, then perhaps the death of this person will make up for it.

i'm devastated. i'm furious. i have never felt so much hatred run through my body before. i lost someone who meant so much to me on the most basic level of human contact, all because of this one mistake i made of ever knowing this person who once claimed to be my last love.

one of those moments when i really, really need a smoke. i'm sick of camel crush. marlboro ice blast, where are you when i need you? i miss having those back at home.

homesick, but i wonder why i don't feel like going home at all this christmas. i think i know the reason why i want to stay, but it definitely doesn't mean that would change anything. it's not like me being around would change anything, but i'd take a chance, anyway. besides, there's just too much binge drinking going on at home. my liver won't last three days.

i should give me dad a phone call sometime this week. hearing his voice makes me feel steady, and i definitely need to feel that way right now.

i stood and stared at that scratch on the concrete wall, thick black marks with a few lines of deep red. my worst nightmare.

a typical story of a car losing control on the slippery road after a rainy morning, yet not so typical at all once you've experienced it for yourself. minor accidents are the scariest; they say that the only way to lose fear is to be free of imagination, yet escaping with barely a concussion and a damaged suspension was so much worse than dying from a fatal crash. it feeds your imagination, until it can eat no more, and vomits all that it has eaten all at once. that is when you break down.

i broke down, because you were the first thing that came into my mind, the moment my head slammed hard against the window. because you were the shiny silver spoon of the many spoonfuls of horror shoved into my imagination. i have yet to tell you how i feel. i need to live. i'm glad i lived, because i think i love you, and i need you to know.

it was like playing with soap bubbles; i watched every single one of my fantasies and doubts and fears and ideas prance about in the air and pop, and i felt the weight finally fall from my shoulders. i'm not letting go of anything, nor am i giving up my original goal, but i realized that sometimes i just needed to release my feelings into the air and let them dissolve in the beautiful sky, even just for a short period of time.

it seems to be working, and i'm glad i'm adapting to this quicker than i thought i would. i'm glad i'm finally loosening up a little.

this show is the only thing that truly makes me smile, the only show that i truly learn from.

during difficult times, these seven (or eight) men teach me how to keep my chin up, how to fight endlessly like they do. although i'm not even close to their level yet (and it is easy to tell, i can't even fight for the only one), their spirit is something that i greatly admire. no one can ever replace them in my heart.

here i am, smiling genuinely, yet still crying inside. it's a paradox.

everything else is telling me to walk away, but i still can't bring myself to let go of that one thing that is begging me to walk closer to you.

i'm too scared. scared of this, scared of that, and i think you are, too. i don't know what this all means, i can't figure you out. i'm scared that you may be dating that girl i see in your photos, that girl you came out to see this weekend. a 45-minute drive both you and i took, just to cross paths again, but why does this hurt so much?

i spend another day alone, thinking about time, about how much time and how little time i have. it doesn't make sense, to feel strongly for both ways, but it's hard to describe the feeling. no one will understand, until they're put in the same position. time is the worst enemy of loneliness, and the fight is slowly burning me away.

please, tell me what you really want, because i'll tell you. i want you.

do you know that feeling? the feeling of restlessness; you watch yourself desperately trying to find something to do yet you can't concentrate on it at all. your mind still wanders off to the many opportunities and different possibilities that you may or may not have let slip away from your frail, soft, chilly fingertips, to the moments when you can't stop beating yourself up for mistakes that you may or may not have made on purpose, whatever the purpose may be.

helplessly, i return to this place, where i can vomit my deepest fears comfortably, where people can't try to hurt me. although i don't see a reason why i should be upset about that, because i certainly deserve it.

there i go again, beating myself up. it's a cycle, an ugly repeating process.

i realized that whenever i try to look nonchalant with my green earphones on as i strut across campus in my designer sandals, my eyes always betray me; shining and sharp, they remain perfectly alert, darting around way too much for my liking, frantically in search of something, someone. i wish for them to stop, but they simply won't. i walk away with disappointment each time, the pain in my chest growing bigger and bigger.

i know that only when i fully let down my guard will i find him, as if the only way for me to ever have him is to stop wanting him. it has happened three times; he would only walk into my line of vision when i least expect it, or when i am deliberately trying to run away. a 45-minute drive away from everything that is him didn't do the trick, and only proved this theory correct; he would, even just for a fleeting moment, walk past me once again, his hair messy and his dark circles evident, his hands casually sliding into his pockets and his steps heavy and effortful.

here goes my futile efforts to relax, to make life a little easier for myself.

a friend once told me that my metaphors were by far the most colorful ones they've seen, and here i find myself forming something figuratively literal in my head. if i was a color, i'd be blue; the most confusing and unpleasant blue ever. i try to look cyan, or teal, but instead i'm the darkest shade of navy there is.