The Love I Have Hoped For

The Shy Me

"My day went well. I have met my colleagues in a cafe to talk about our new project, but most of the talks were not actually about the project but mostly about anything unrelated. I wanted to protest and ask them to focus on our work but I kept quiet of course. They even asked me to join them go to a club after the meeting which I'm sure they didn't mean to.

I know everyone think of me as a boring girl who doesn't know how to have fun. I wanted to say I would love to join them and see the surprised looks on their faces but of course again, I didn't.

It is a boring day and I hope I can finally find someone whom I can share my thoughts everyday with. :("

That's my diary entry for the day. As a 30-year old lady, I still write on the diary. I know what you are thinking, old-school eh? But that's me.

My name is Jessica, I work in an advertising company. I am just one of the staff in our group and I am basically nobody.

I grew up being bullied by other people. They laugh at how I look, how I speak, they laugh about everything related to me. But I don't know why I never felt mad at them, I found what they said about me funny as well so it is okay. And I like them. At least I never felt alone whenever they talk about me.

I remember one time when I was in high school when three of my male classmates sat around me in our classroom and talked about how I would die and how my coffin would look like. They said I would die in luxury because my coffin will be air-conditioned with a kitchen and a master's bedroom. I don't know how that would happen but anyway, I just listened to their stories and how happy they were imagining the things I would do ground under.

I grew up without so many friends. I prefer being alone. I enjoy the solitude. And so that's what I thought. I realized at this age of mine, being alone is sometimes not good. Living alone in an apartment makes you lonely sometimes. I am not complaining. My life, I am sure is better that other people who always worry about money, but their is still something missing. You know the feeling of going home and find no one to talk to, no one to be happy to welcome you or eat with.

Is it a sign that I am really old? I hope not. I guess that is the reason why I still make diary entries despite my age.

Time for bed.
Another battle tomorrow.
Another boring day.
Another sad day.