i'm like you, but you're not like me. just like how you think you're like me, but i'm not like you.

All of us like to believe that nobody understands us. That no one could ever comprehend our sorrows, our tears, our battles and at times our triumphs. I’m one of those people. I believe it because it is the truth. People can try to empathise, but really, no one knows the pain of a suffering or the wholeness of a joy except the recipient himself.

Forget about light. Let’s talk about darkness. See, it’s so easy to think about heart-wrenching, mind-crowding, soul-dissipating experiences. The Past. What came across your mind when I said that? Happiness? Sadness? I don’t know about you, but when I mentioned the word “past”, I could only think of the bad experiences I had while growing up. Maybe this is what I’m destined to be..this depressing girl who’s holding back too much. Who’s blaming others for things she couldn’t do (hah. Ripped off Christina’s song).

I’m starting to question whether I have even an ounce of love in me. I guess why I’m stirring this whole thing up is cos I’m puzzled as to why I can’t say “I love you” or, ok, no relation, but I noticed that I can’t say “you’re welcome” either. And I’m not talking about love in a romantic kinda way, cos that’s waaay out the window. I’m talking about everyday Love. Like love for parents, family and friends. I’m thrown off that I can’t say “I love you” to my parents. I love them of course. I feel it and I show it to them pretty well. But I just can’t say it. Those words are like running water to my siblings, but me?

My disability to say those three letter words to my parents is upsetting the hell outta me. It all started yesterday when my family sent daddy off on a business trip to Jakarta. My sis said to him, so easily, I might add, “have a safe trip. Take care Abi. I love you”. This was what I said: “bye..Take care”.

Not just parents..friends too. I remember Pumpkin used to always say those things to me. Other friends too. In smses, it’s easy to say, but in person, not so well.

There is no point in me writing this entry, and yet I’m publishing it. I’m not looking for sympathy or encouragement. I’m looking for myself. I realise now that I’ve been acting to be the person who I want to be..so desperately that I’m losing sight of who I truly am. Does that even make sense?

Im sure all of you have felt that way at one point of your lives..or actually more than one point of your life. But like I said, no one really knows the suffering or the joy of a person except he himself.

oh put a sock in it basta.