Idk what this is, I'm basically spilling everything out. I can't speak my emotions to others, nor am I willing to type about it directly. Writing is my only option. A solution to empty my cup
I don't remember much from that day, or if there was that day. I admit I'm not completely sure how, or when it started. Oh well, might as well start explaining what the fuck this is.
So generally speaking, this is a diary with no lock, in a library accessible by everyone with an internet connection. And I admit I'm not a great writer, so maybe in some parts I'll just be writing complete utter bullshit. I need to do so, I guess. It's relaxing for me. Some peeps might say, "go talk to a friend," or "open up to someone, they can help you." Well you see that's how I ended up here. I trusted someone, too much I would say, and that someone sees me as a toy; I'm something that this someone can play with. It was devastating to find that out. Imagine this, you essentially devote yourself to this one person only to find out said person doesn't even care about you; not one strand of hair. It broke me, and made me trust people less; it can be said I don't trust anyone anymore. "Kovu, but why don't you give people another chance?" Well I did, roughly five times,and the results are the same. If it were an experiment for research, I would be very pleased about the results. Two of the five of them didn't impact me as much. I didn't spend much time with them, wasn't a big of a deal to me. You know what, this is just branching out to way back into the past; way back before the cause of me writing again happened. Let us get into that shall we?
Hmm, where do we start? Let's just say I walked in a new class in high school, oblivious of what's about to happen in the next 3 years. Class was empty, clock reads 7:00. It was bliss; the comforting darkness, the birds singing, the crickets rehearsing. Windows sealed the cool conditioned air inside, whilst a bit of light creeps through them. Still, dark enough for me to conceal my inner self. The whiteboard still tattooed from yesterday's class; someone forgot to do their duty. I made no initiative to erase it, I went straight to my favorite spot of the class. Next to the window, two rows behind the teacher's desk, just behind a pillar supporting the roof itself. That was the most comfortable seat, ever. Since I came first, it's mine for the picking. There was one other who comes in early, though she always come earlier than me. Before I knew it the lights flickered on. Blinded, I hissed like the vampire I am. "Morning sleepy head!" says this person. She has this British accent when she speaks English, though she's not one bit a Brit; says she only has it after watching this TV show.
Ah shit, this is turning into a story isn't it? Sorry, not what I intended. What was I gonna type again?
Oh right, how I ended up here. Let's tell that tale backwards. Well here I am now writing my thoughts away, discovering that I was just used by someone. Identities will be concealed for now; until the end, if it does end, or when it's needed. Around 9 or 10 a.m., I woke up to a cold, dry morning. Some reason my feet were on my pillows, can't remember what I dreamed about. Anyway, I reached for my phone at my feet and fed myself with the daily dose of Instagram Stories. Flicking through, there are those usual ones from the night before; Friends partying, eating, hanging out, etc. I kept swiping, and swiping, until I reached this one
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That, that broke me. What I saw was to be expected, but it broke me. My motivation lost, time froze at that point. That bitter feeling I loved, it came back; the feeling of a knife slowly sinking in through you chest, droplets rolling down the face, that choking feeling at the throat, preventing me breathing for a few seconds, the chill sensation rising from my feet. Painful, but I missed it. I don't know how I should feel about that, I mean it's a rare feeling that I don't want it to go to waste. Just three nights ago, she called me through Line; by the way, great messaging app, try it. We called for hours, literally. I had no clue to why she'd call me, but a bit of human interaction wouldn't hurt. After seeing her story, I found out I was all but a toy, nothing more. That call meant nothing. Actually, it did mean something. I found out who LMI is. I asked her about it during the call, it turns out to be this fucker she just met during Raimuna. To me, that's just way too fucking quick, so I shrugged it off three nights ago. Though it seems strange, before that her Line status was set to "lmi"; seriously, use Line, it's the best. Fuck fine I'll admit it, yes I fell for her, too hard. Yes, way too fucking hard. I even thought of skipping orientation events just to meet her. Right now, I regret doing so. I shouldn't have fallen for her honeyed words.
I feel like I wanna end this part right now, don't know how though. My head is light, hands feel heavy, can't think too much. There are still assignments to do. Shit. I guess that's all my thoughts for tonight. Not feeling to well. Welp, see ya folks
