Sigh, silly boy

Ah, this is a purely responsive post, and probably won't make sense to anyone else. But hey, of you know me, you can ask me what's it about.

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Dear Boy,

I'm not comparing you and whatshisface. Everyone is different. That's over and done and you've definitely come out tops. When I say deja vu last year, I just mean with results and the overwhelming sense of failure. Nothing to do with the Boys in my life. Mutually exclusive in a way. So don't worry your round little head about me worrying about this twisting into last year and so on and so forth. Personal and Professional tend to go on different tracks with me.

What else...

Ah, yes. "Inadequate to fill the need" [stop with the naughty thoughts the rest of you]. Venting is venting. All one really needs to do is just not interrupt, as rude as that sounds. Possibly with some affirmations here and there but comfort or words of wisdom are really not required. A pair of ears and a voicebox to go "mhmmm" once in a while is enough. Not to say that that's all your good for, but when dealing with vents, less is more.

I don't want you to ever feel like I think your second best or not good enough or not doing enough or whatever bad adjectives there are. I have standards and I generally stick to them. If I don't like something I'd tell you straight up.

So chin up. Don't worry about me. For the record, I've kinda told the parents and to be fair, its a big deal to me cos it's a big deal to them - me being the only one that they have and the only one that will have to take care of them in the future. I can carry the burden pretty well most times but I admit I have my weak moments. MOMENTS, mind you. One-off things.

I like you. I can forsee that I will continue to like you in the immediate future. So unless you do some major fkup in the relationship department, you're home dry.

*Major fkups include: cheating, serious indifference and general non-effort.

Take care, and I will see you in 18 days.

Love, Sara

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A bit brutal. Not intended to make you (him) cry or feel bad. Just to reassure you that we're solid.

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I have discovered that I'm no good at talking things like this through. I'm way better at writing. More organised. I like paragraphs. There are spaces in between. For some reason, I can't think in paragraphs. More like - shopping lists.

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Lea: when you see me, ask me abt this. I have a new metaphor for you to digest. It's a good one :)

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Note the lack of formatting and colour in this post to reflect the seriousness and somber mood that I'm in. Is it working? Are you reflecting with me?