I have never been in love. So this is not the feeling of a heart being ripped out. This is the feeling of having your trust thrown away.
I tend to trust people unconditionally. Which in itself is a beautiful and foolish thing. I don’t give my trust just freely. I trust people not to screw me over in general but if in times they do, it shouldn’t matter because of human nature, you put yourself first and if that means lying to a person, then so be it. I have only given my trust to a few people in my entire lifetime. And by this is mean full trust. Not the “I trust that you will remember to water my plants” kind of trust but the kind of trust as in, “I trust you to come through for me in times of crisis” kind of trust. The type reserved for parents, best friends and boyfriends.
Boyfriends are where the problem starts. I don’t have a great track record if you can even call it that. The first one, took my trust, looked at it, and decided he could do better. The “second one”, if there ever was one in the first place, saw the trust I gave him and didn’t even recognise it. It’s not like I tried to disguise it as something else, but what should he know. He’s never seen real trust before.
Of the two times I’ve tried, I’ve been crush, hurt and humiliated. It doesn’t hurt me as much to be dumped or ignored, but it really hurts like a stab in the heart to feel stupid and know I should have known better. I’m the one who’s supposed to know when to play it out and when to get serious. I’m the one who should have protected the trust till it was ready to be given away.
And of all this, I have gotten nothing if not smarter. I now know that out of quiet desperation there is one thing that should always remain – the quiet. For no reason should one ever give in too early. Never reveal what isn’t yours in the first place. Stay in your little bottle down below and even though your ready to tell the world what you feel, it’s always too early. Always another day to wait. And in that sense, you’re safe. That’s how you protect the trust.
But don’t get me wrong. I truly believe in love and all that romantic comedy crap. I’m sure it exists. My parents are living proof. But how it comes about is another matter to be left alone by Hollywood. I have seen too many great romantic comedies and I think they have screwed my up. I am one of those people who love to get that warm fuzzy feeling but it’ll never happen to me. For one reason or another.
And I don’t blame the boys for making me feel like I feel. I feel like I feel because I know I did wrong. I blame myself for believing that what I felt was real instead of premature. I jumped the gun before they ever did and I got punished for it. The first time I was wrong I blamed him. It felt better in the beginning to do that so I did it. And people believed in it so fine. But I’ve always blamed myself for never being good enough to keep him. Even if he was evil in the first place (according to sources). The second. Well. He was decent enough and was rated “nice but polite” by the same sources. No one ever said blur and / or ignorant. He never actually did anything. I have yet to be “dumped” by him. But I might as well be. To describe the feeling, imagine yourself falling down a hole. A really big hole. You can’t touch the sides but you’re just falling, falling. And you expect to hit the bottom aaaany time now. But you don’t and just keep falling and falling with no hope of saving yourself or ending it quick. That’s how it is.
But enough about how shit I am. I’ve resolved (and this is not a New Years thing) to be my own self. Sounds stupid but hey. I’m not gonna rely on anyone, I’m not gonna need anyone. I’m just going to be the old old self-confident me. I think I know where the decline started. And I blame secondary school for it.
I have a theory about self confidence and self esteem. There are times when people can be labelled arrogant or shy but that all depends on how people perceive them. Graphical example:
It’s a really easy graph to understand. There are two factors. First is self-confidence. How you perceive yourself and how comfortable you are with who you are and what you do. Second is how others see you. How others feel where you fit in the social hierarchy or ladder or group. This is very important because your place is determined by the rest. This is only important if you let it get to you. The line of social acceptability is where your self-confidence and outside perception meet. For example, if you look and act like a shy, timid person, and you feel shy AND other people think you are shy, then you’re somewhere at point A and you’re fine. Take point B: if you’re hot and pretty and you’ve got enough confidence to choke a mule then you’re good to go too. People associate how good you feel about yourself with how good you let them make you feel. Does that make sense to you?
Well anyway, way back when, I was labelled arrogant (in a private meeting, called by my “peers”) for being snobbish and proud. And at the time I didn’t like what they said. I was thinking that why shouldn’t I be proud of what I do. But I’ve sat through enough of these confrontations to know that talking back is useless and they won’t let you out till you agree solemnly. So I agreed. But later on, their words began to affect me. I became less social. I blended into the back ground to make way for those who other people wanted to see more.
Needless to say I don’t enjoy recalling all this but I think it’s important for anyone who reads this blog, myself included to realise how self-conscious I have become. I hate the fact that I have to dress to please people. I like the way I dress but I always keep the people I know in mind. Ok, I don’t want to blame those 7 or 8 high school people for “intervening” before I committed social suicide, but it makes me think. High school never really ends does it? I liked high school for the way it just sped by for me. I was always the observer and never the observed. I crave limelight and attention and that’s what’s killing me here and now. I know I can be better and I know I could do better but what’s stopping me? I have no clue.
At times I think I might need a therapist or someone but I give pretty good advice myself so I just try and pretend as if I were my own therapist. It comes from being a very self sufficient only child that talking to yourself is an accepted form of therapy. I’m not crazy, just extremely lonely. My best friend is and was around but I’d rather not burden other people with the trivialities of my own problems, unless dire intervention is required then I will call for help of whatever. Doesn’t happen often, but could if need be.
Also, my parents are not home for 3 days. That’s what triggered this bout of loneliness. Mum’s in Singapore. Dad’s in Penang. Best friend is in Bali with other friends. And Uni friends… well, not so close to them as to share intimate secrets – more of sharing of cake and other festive edibles. College friends are far and wide so that only leaves you dear blog. My online writing tablet. I don’t mind you sharing this with the whole world even if half of them think I’m crazy. Because I hope the other half will understand – and possibly prescribe me anti-depressants or something.
I actually think there is something wrong with me because I can be a happy camper. Around friends. But alone, I can seriously crash into lethargy. I neeeeed social contact and when that’s not afforded to me, I don’t know what to do. I was thinking about this till I feel asleep last night and to go to sleep thinking of this, is not pleasant.
I woke up this morning and I thought to myself, if I cut my wrists right now, no one would find out I’m gone for at least 2 days. A morbid thought but one I’m inclined to share with you. Well, I woke up looking at the pulsating vein in my right arm so the thought just came up. I do not relish the thought of suicide. I do not wish to take my own life. But for the lack of anything else better to do…. Just kidding. I would never go through with it. I wouldn’t even start. I love life too much. But like I said earlier. Quiet desperation. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it a secret. I don’t want to be like those other kids hopped up on pills to make themselves feel worthy. I don’t want to join the endless horde that need help to feel good about themselves. I just want to feel better about myself and I think it’ll all go away.
But enough talk on that. It’s a sad enough topic and it’ll run through my head all day anyway.
I don’t know how to end this post. I won’t say I’ve bared all because a girl’s gotta have some secrets. I needed to get this out and record this. I hope I don’t sound emo because this is real. And loneliness is real and. Yeah, I sound emo. I’m sorry. Well whatever, you choose to read this far. But the problem with post like these, is I may expect a comment. And it bums me out that people don’t leave them. So comments are a no go. No hope, no disappointment. I retract my trust; you guys haven’t earned it yet.
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