♥Daily Blog: My Own Reflection

I found out that the girl actually suggested him or "made" her boyfriend took ap music theory. so like, that's what keltner was saying. the bf had no knowledge of music but took it anyway for his gf.
kinda sweet, isn't it? now that he can't handle it though, his gf decided to help him get out. in general...it was cute....she was mean...in a way...not literally...but basically she can tame him and he loves her....afraid to lose her...and well....does what she wants him to do. he was her gentleman, and she was his lady.

and....as i reflect....i realized that...i'm the only one....who can't tame my lover. there are...some ppl who can...

but...i can't....i was initially too nice....trustful that he was my gentleman...and...i was wrong...i was the one scared...i was the one afraid to lose him...

a girl who can't hold the whip at her own will...isn't lucky....

i can't tame him.......i'm...
I don't know....i can't...tame my lover....he's not afraid...he doesn't love as a gentleman....for...he would leave if anything....not I...
He..I..
I can't tame him....

if i cry...he feels bad and does nothing...and then blames himself...and then...makes me feel bad...and in a way....it's like...he gets mad when i cry...

but when she cries....her bf hugs her and brushes her arm...walking with her...talking to her in a gentle voice....and wiped away her tears....

and i was a gentle person...he doesn't see me that way anymore...i feel like...he doesn't see anything good about me...he has already judged me...made a permanent image of me...and would forever see me as this...

I...woke up late today...only had 5 hours of sleep.

I didn't want to call him, but if I were late for school and did not call him, then...that would be bad.
I needed to come to school early...and...well I didn't come early.

Well...first time he drove me to school...

But...I felt guilty all along. He was quiet, only focused on driving me to school. Hug was...like...just a hug...kiss was...just a kiss.

I've realized many things by now. He had changed in some way. Initially, he had changed for the better for me....but now the way he used to love me was gone...

Close mouthed kisses to simple hugs...I could just walk out and I wouldn't be pulled back...

i mean...even when we had a quick kiss before, it will be passionate and sweet...not entirely closed....hard to explain

But everything's different.

With the cards he bought me....for some reason I kept thinking that he also bought another deck for himself but decided to lie or whatever that he had them a long time ago.
I found it unusual...he had almost every single card that I had...
And also...he had a duplicate with the exact same card...that I had....

Why would he lie to me...why would he closed himself off...I don't understand...I simply don't understand....

He doesn't look happy with me anymore...I'm afraid that...he would be the type of guy who would put love last...put me last...put me after some people...

He never returned the box I gave him with the food in it....he said he had it planned and would give it back to me with a surprise.

There was never a plan or a schedule, was there?
He had never replied my email. He had never started it, had he?
And the thing he was working on for me.....he never gave it...

Even after the long message last time...though I didn't ask for a reply....he still didn't reply.

And...I can't help but to feel abandoned. Everything I have written on the message/email....was correct.

I AM rejected and I AM right...

He would choose himself over me...would he?

Even with the moments he and i recently have had...they were not the same...there was a sense of emptiness in the air...

To see that...he had lied and closed himself toward me....I don't know what to think....there is nothing I can do...he had chosen this....and if the romantic things really have been gone...the part of him disappeared...the option for me is to....let him go....

I don't want to...but...when he's with me...he doesn't love me with the ways like before....perhaps he loves me in a different way...but....I just...don't like it....he had loved me in ways and even close to the perfect ways that made me feel happy.

All of a sudden....he lied...and closed off....

What is there for me to do now...

One of the most terrible and heartbreaking emotions that lie inside of me right now is...

loving the right person...loving the best person I've ever known....but...that person....doesn't love me...the same way...the same intensity...the same true meaning....

Yearning to be accepted but at the same time...yearning for his core...his complete core...

but it all seems so far away now....

it all seems so far away.....

he's like a parent to me....i don't...need another parent nor do i want another one...i want a lover....i want someone to love me that's not like my parents....

but...he's different toward me now....why would he lie....

But...I'm not sure if he lied about the cards....everything seemed odd...did he lie...
For last time....though he mentioned nothing about having the same cards...he seemed to know a lot....which could mean that he is telling the truth...

but who knows....

even when i asked him if he talked to anyone....who knows...he could have lied....and if i asked what did he do today...who knows...he could lie about the library....

Notice something funny...? I should put "may" not "could"

idk...would he lie to me? Could he lie to me? Because I can't lie to him nor would i lie to him...

i'm...confused

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Clouds Parted, the Sun Emerges

“You barely talk in person, but yet you type so much whenever we talk on online,” one of my classmates stated.
“You seem like a very cheerful person, but when you write, your writing tone is, well, very deep and emotional. I’m very confused about you,” a close friend of mine pointed out.
They were right. They were all right. I was simply quiet and introverted most of the time but was overly verbose when it came to writing about something personal in my life. Being the cheerful person I usually was when I talked to people, how I truly felt and what my thoughts were could be only revealed unconsciously through ink and paper. I wasn’t able to express my innermost emotions through my expressions and through the things I do. No. What was under my skin could only be revealed through the heavily-pressed words that lay in stillness on the white, loose leaf paper.
I had always daydreamed and wondered about the many aspects of life. During most of my childhood, I would sit on the beige, leathered sofa beside the clear, glass window with the sunlight being directed on the words of my novel. I would be glued to my seat for hours, not knowing how fast the time had gone by. The novel had absorbed me into its new and mysterious world. The unrealistic world had trapped my mind into its exciting and irresistible adventure. Any emotion that the little world bestowed upon me became real and touched. As I continued to read for adventures and trips, I had also continued to read for an escape from the reality. I had always wondered, “How can life be so beautiful yet unable to be obtained in dreams?” Thus, I became a deep thinker, running through thoughts inside my mind in a whole different level. I thought beyond, I thought about what could be, I thought about what is, and I thought about how it came to be this way. I had locked myself up into a hollow room, only to listen to the echoes of my innermost thoughts. Eventually, I became distant and unreadable by others. I found myself enjoying the observations that I gathered from taking a step back from the world. Little did I know, I had changed drastically.
I had been social when I was younger, and I had loved to interact with people. After discovering my inner self, I realized that I had put up a façade all those years. In many ways, I was glad to find out who I really was, and what I really want. But also in many ways, the results from being who I really was made me feel uncomfortable and different. Friends betrayed, classmates judged, and people who had never seen me before would already judge based on the second they saw me. I felt unappreciated and unaccepted; thus, I became more introverted and decided to only be open to people who could earn my trust. As the seasons changed, people proved to be unworthy of trust more than ever. I valued trust, and I simply valued morals. To be lied to in the face, to be stabbed on the back, and to be taken advantage of were just too incredulous for me. I had always given a positive outlook on people, but now, I could only give a positive outlook on people in general. When looking in depth, people just couldn’t be trusted.
I had no one to talk to, no one to laugh with. I simply had nobody to be myself with. After stumbling into many quagmires and having no one to confide with, all my emotions and thoughts bottled up inside of me like a volcano that was about to erupt. I would cry and recover temporarily on my own. I would be silent about how I felt. I would sit there on my bed, waiting for the hurt to die. But no matter how hard I have tried to resist the pain, no matter how tenacious I was in healing on my own, I was never successful. There must be a way, I thought to myself. Finally, one day, I decided to write and just write. I had no topic in mind. I just wanted to pass time. The moment I felt the pen within my fingers, I felt control. I felt power. I felt hope. And just like that, my hand began to move incessantly, each word came right after the other in just seconds. The pen continued to move up and down, side to side, and back to up and down. My feelings poured out onto paper as a melody was played from the notes on the music sheets. I became relieved, my thoughts became more lucid. I felt saved.
From then on, I wrote whenever I felt the need to. I wrote when I wanted to. I wrote for “just because”. As days go by, I began to write short stories, poems, songs, and about my personal life. I wrote based on my experiences, what I learned, and what I realized. But most of all, I wrote about how I feel. I could now see that the reason why my written works have always contained a sense of melancholy was that I had expressed my innermost emotions through what I create. As I looked back to the things I’ve written, I could see the inspiration that I have tried to give others. I could see my emotions being expressed into a more acceptable and mysterious way. I was hard to be understood and hard to read. Perhaps there was no need to be understood. There was no reason. Perhaps there was no need for reason. All that was needed was a best friend who knew me inside and out. That best friend was a set of pen and paper.