When the Wind Blows

Funny how not hearing from you in the past 24-hours has so easily caused me insomnia. I can be a pain in the ass to myself sometimes. Ever since that confession episode, you've dilligently acknowledged me everywhere my name's popped up. So unlike you. And you even bought top up to text me in the dead of the night, just like old times. How thoughtful.
But to tell you the absolute truth, it kinda got on my nerves.
After telling you about how I felt, I wasn't so sure about my feelings anymore. Call it an abrupt personality disorder, blame it on my teenage hormones, do whatever. That was the plain truth. How selfish of me.
And last night, our conversation died before it even got the chance to take its first breath. I'm guessing that your stupid phone was the culprit. Amazingly, I didn't freak out and jump to a million different "colourful" conclusions. Back to proofreading assignments it was, backache and all.
The morning had a surprise in store for me. You could call it pleasant, I suppose. The red light on my Blackberry kept blinking incessantly. One missed call. A Shah Alam number. You. Or at least I hoped it was. The next thing that sprang to mind was that I had slept like a log. Reading hundreds of pages of broken English will do that to you. I couldn't help a small smile to myself. Wow. That was rare.
After shaking off the last dregs of sleep, my brilliant brain (I'll be vain just this once, I promise) came up with a theory. If you didn't text me tonight, then that definitely was, without a single trace of doubt, your house number that was on my missed calls list and not some pervert that's been trying to get my attention. Some people just don't get it. Morons.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 24 hours gone. No word from you.
Bravo, Mundi. Bravo.
I told you I was brilliant.
So much for you getting on my nerves for saying hi too many times. When it's right in front of me, I shove it away; when it's out of my grasp, I want it badly.
What can I say? I always want what I can't have. Bad habit.
Tsk tsk.

Oops... I Did It Again.

So I confessed. I told you straight up that I like you. Your response to my confession was expected. But it did nothing to dull the blow. No matter. At least I did what I had to. After that I felt light and most of all, liberated. No doubt a few tears trickled from the corners of my eyes afterward but I was free. At long last. I managed to summon the courage needed to tell you those three words. Not exactly true because they didn't actually sum up all my feelings adequately but at least I got it out. Thank heavens.
Whatever happens between us after that chat session, I'd have to accept it with open arms. Even if I didn't want to. What's done, is done. There was no way in hell I could turn back.
But you did something that totally wasn't you. You said hi the next day. Why give me hope? Stop tormenting me. Stop your taunts. I don't think I can handle it anymore. I just want to know what's it like on your side of the universe. What do you think about, what makes you smile, what do you do when you need somebody to turn to, and mostly, what do you think of me?
Why tell me all those little things when they only give me signals and even more reason to hope? Somehow I just know that deep down, you share the same feelings as I do. Eventhough they're no more than a small speck of substance. Mostly insignificant and can be quelled without harsh means.
Where we are now, is my fault. Solely mine. I'm just as confounded as you are. With all these inappropriate emotions and all these questions that lead to more questions than answers.
My Rock is out of town. I feel a tad bit useless without him. He's as normal as normal can get. Mentality-wise that is. It's so hard to find a stable, breathing 19 year-old that actually thinks using his brain. His words save the day, time and time again. Come home already, man! Urgh.
Enough about wise-best-friends-that-fly-off-to-obscure-islands-to-cook.
I want to see you. But things always find a way to go awry at the last minute. I can't even express myself properly. The words keep tumbling out as if without queue. That's how messed up my thoughts are.
Bottom line is, I miss you. Whoops.

Let's go on dreaming for we know we are

So close

So close

And still so far.

God Bless

To everyone who had a hand in ruining my day,

 

FUCK YOU.

The Other Side of Sanity

From Abu Hurairah, who related that the Prophet PBUH said,

"Believers who are strong (in the eyes) of Allah and are more loved (by Him) than believers who are weak, it being understood that there is goodness (faith) in everyone. So, you should diligently seek to that which benefits you and seek the help of Allah and do not be hesitant or lazy;

And, if you are smitten with something, do not say- if I do such and such, such and such will come about, but say, Allah has written and what has been willed by His Wisdom, He will put into effect;

for the word 'if' opens the door to the persuasions of Satan."

When faith wavers, it's easy to lose hope. Reaffirming my focus gets hard to do. My imagination runs into overdrive, spinning out of control, like a car on wet tarmac. Different circumstances are conjured up in my mind, suffocating me like a thick blanket of smoke. Hope becomes a foreign word, as if it never existed in the first place. The people around me start whispering vile insidious things, plaguing me with doubt. It becomes a very dark and unfriendly environment all too soon. Fights break out. Shouting matches that last for hours on end. The tears that are shed afterwards.

Leave me alone! Do me a favour and shut up while you're at it.
Assuming things isn't going to make things better. Over-analyzing just adds agony to an otherwise mild situation. It's best if we just kept an open mind about it all. I know being optimistic is not exactly one of your more stronger points, but just bear with me. There's nothing wrong with anything. The only thing that's wrong is you, spreading like a dark cloud to ruin a sunny day. I hate that. And I most definitely hate you when you're in "storm cloud mode".
No matter what you say or think or do, you'll be proven wrong in the end. He has never been cruel to me and I dare say that He certainly isn't going to start now. He's always had my back, I was the ungrateful one who turned away. I've realised my mistake and I'm hellbent on not repeating it.
What I want, I will get. All I have to do is ask.

Weakling, I Am.

I don't know why I even bother. It's always the same. It's like we have our private repeat button. A quarter of a step forward then a zillion more to the back. And then I have to retreat into my little dark corner to lick my wounds. But before I start licking them clean, salt is rubbed in deep.
 You're just plain bad news. The words 'STAY AWAY' is written all over you but for some damn reason,  I don't seem to comprehend the meaning those words are trying to convey. The moment you smile, I immediately go weak in the knees. Yes, literally. And as if on queue, all the other systems in my body shut down, one after the other. All my 'iron' resolve then vaporizes into thin air and I'm back right where you left me, useless and stupid.
Yep, you have that kind of power over me. Pesky insignificant little you. God, I hate you! And I hate myself for being so easily persuaded by your idiocy. I was never this pathetic little human being prior to meeting you. But thats what I have been reduced to since knowing you. I walked with an air of arrogance and was so sure of everything, especially what it is that I wanted. But I guess arrogance is not a good trait to possess. So back to earth I was sent.
I have a confession to make. Everything before 'us' was fun. When you asked me that bloody moronic question, I had a good mind to say no in your face. But you looked like a vulnerable little puppy who desperately needed a home. So I took you in. Yes, I did it out of pity. The following two days was spent beating myself up for accepting something I didn't want. On the third day, I knew I couldn't make it without you.

I am an idiot.

We went our seperate ways and I cried almost every night. Then there was a relapse period where I tried to convince myself that nothing was going to be written in the next chapter of the book. And it worked. Almost. But there were sessions in the shower, in the room, anywhere that people wouldn't see or hear me crying over something so trivial. To me, that was good progress. Very good, in fact, because it occured only once in a while, not on a damned 24-hour cycle.
So much for progress, right? Seeing you again the other day set me off. Now every single thing reminds me of you. Sometimes it makes me smile like a lunatic for no reason but most of the time it pushes me to the brink of insanity.

It seems like peace is the only thing I'll never know.
Bloody well said.

The LOL Factor

Yeah. Precisely.

My Little Bubble of Happiness

I smiled for a whole 48 hours after seeing you the other day. I wish we could start over. Even if it's from square one. We keep talking about it but never once tried to implement it. I'd like to say hi and ask you about your day. Having a civilized conversation would be too much to ask for so I'll settle for a few words.

We never ended, we're just beginning.