Wednesday, April 18, 2012
I think there's a saying somewhere about a man's tears, is serious business.I get the fact that yes, when a man does cry, it means shit went down because girls have a tendency to cry over a lot of things.
Take me for example, I cry when: animals die in movies, watch sappy love movies/dramas, read sad books/manga/stories, hear a song with so much meaning to me, I'm feeling hurt/upset/angry.
Examples when he cries: when I leave without a word.
That day was the first time I heard the panic and hurt in his voice underneath the sad tears that I knew he shed over the phone.
I didn't mean to make him cry, I was just walking around killing time because the movie queue was so long and I needed to clear my thoughts too.
I didn't know he'd been frantically calling me, running around looking for me everywhere because my phone was in my bag.
God knows how terrible I am at noticing my vibrating phone in my bag; it's shit, I tell you.
The whole build up to that moment was when he forgot to take my feelings into consideration that afternoon.
He had gone out for breakfast and gym with his sister and I assumed that we were going to have lunch together later.
I realized what a stupid thing it was to assume later, when he texted me after 3pm to have my lunch before I left.
The thing was, I had already left my house because I wanted to be there early for once.
I was incredibly hurt and told him that I'd just watch a movie and then leave cause I'm interrupting their family time anyway.
He tried to convince me otherwise but it made me feel like a third wheel all the more and I just wanted to 'crawl into a hole and die'.
That strong a feeling of neglect.
It doesn't help that I only get to see him for a few short hours on Saturdays only and he gets his whole Sunday and whatever hours on Saturday (when he doesn't see me) with his family.
The rest of the texts with him went along the lines of me refusing to meet up with him and his sister at all because I was feeling quite shitty by then.
I eventually left it to luck if I were to see him that day and waited for the purple line to Outram Park.
He saw me, he rushed into the train and looked for me.
When he couldn't find me, he called me and found out that I was seated outside.
If I left it to luck, we wouldn't even have met that day.
Curse my weak resolution and love for him that I agreed to come down to Outram Park to talk with him.
After a lot of tears and talking, I took him back to Vivocity with the intention of leaving him there once he met his sister.
This is where the whole incident mentioned way at the top happened.
Looking back, everything was quite stupid.
Stupid of me to have made such a fuss.
I've seen first hand how my absence affects him and I never want to see that again.
But if the shitty third wheel feeling comes back, I can't promise I wont try to leave again.
I hate the darkness that engulfs me when the feeling comes.
It's like a black hole of loneliness, depression and negativity that sucks me in, faster and faster.
I hate myself for even allowing myself to feel this way in the first place.
9:06 PM
