I change too much.
To live for myself, without anyone else to think about- I'd quickly doom myself if that ever happens.
I am alright, most of the time. When I'm out with friends, I let loose & I'm perfectly fine. They take notice of what I say, & their reactions to what I do are apropriately big. People say I'm the quiet girl type. Judith even went as far as to say I'm the 'thinking' type, and she & Tze Feng were the talking type. But I feel that I do talk a lot. & certain things I do, like volunteering to clean the whiteboard or stand instead of sitting with them during recess, show myself how much I like people noticing me.
Talk about an attention seeker.
I don't know why I'm so addicted to food. I may have to ban myself from watching AFC & TLC- food channels. I love watching people prepare food, especially when the ingredients are stuff I am familiar with, and especially if the consumable in question is a dessert.
I may also have to put away every single cookbook & recipe that I'd collected.
Compulsive eating disorder.
Nigel told me that, to lose weight, I have to exercise, and not go without food. I suppose that makes sense, but it'd never really worked for me. Whenever I exercise, I come home with a humongous appetite. It's a monster, and I can't suppress it. Also, when I do exercise, my parents tend to nag at me to eat.
It doesn't help that it'd been raining a lot recently, and that I'm almost always tired out every time I come home from co-curriculum, colloquium & what not. Not to mention the load of revision I have to do to prepare myself for the onslaught of examinations this March. Excuses, excuses- But they are reasons as well.
Judith tells me that I look perfectly normal- What for I want to lose weight?
That's the thing, I don't want to be just normal. I have experienced how it feels to be thinner than most others, with people complimenting me & asking me how I did it. The scary thing is that now, I'm slowly equating normal with healthy.
There are some people in my life- not prominent people, only aquantainces- who have said things that made it sound like being thin, being abnormally, unexplainably thin, without any appetite for food at all, is a glorious thing. Me being able to state that out means I'm aware of it, but I don't think I can help not being affected. I am.
It's fine for other girls. Honestly, when I tell them I think curvy girls are really beautiful, I really mean it. Sweet, happy girls who don't think much about their own image, but are always a good friend to everyone. Who cares if you're not skinny? You're healthy, you are not obese- You're fine. I enjoy watching others enjoy food, especially when it's food like ice cream, cakes, cookies-
Maybe that's why I love baking so much, for other people. But I can't really, now, because I know the ingredients are not inexpensive, it takes up time, & my own family members won't appreciate it as much. Pa thinks sweet stuff kills you, mum & sis are watching their own figures (blasted) and Jerry- Jerry too.
And Nigel isn't around.
Last week, I did pretty well. All I had in the morning as cold, concentrated coffee, two gingko pills, a vitamin pill & two other pills I have to take for my mild-amemic condition. & it lasted the entire day.
I was so happy. The next few days I had the same things, but because people keep telling me to eat, & I was stressed out from school, I picked at some junk food in the living room. I didn't mind them much, since my weight was going down.
To date I'd lost two kilograms, permanently. Meaning, no matter how much I eat, those two kilograms weren't coming back.
The next two kilograms are a bit trickier, appearing & disappearing at the most random of hours. Forget allowing myself treats when I hit 55 kilograms- I don't deserve it. No treats, no forgivable slack until I reach 53.
If only I could distract myself- Then this whole losing weight thing wouldn't be such a pain in the ass. But I'm not talking about distracting myself with things that are already causing me stress in the first place, like school, housework, exercise- I wish I could spend the entire day writing, or drawing, or working outside.
I forgive & forget quite easily, I suppose. In a way it's bad for me, because I become to lenient with myself. I can't ask my mum to help discipline me, because every time she does, I feel intensely irritated. Probably the way she does it. The same for pa.
I have to chant mantras, maybe. I hate cakes. I hate fried stuff. I hate snacks. I hate chips. I hate sweets. I hate chocolate. I absolutely despise anything with fat content in it. I hate bread. I hate rice. I don't need these things to stay alive. They only drag me down.
Well, they do. I feel better skipping breakfast, honestly. And I don't feel weak, perhaps because of the caffeine.
Do not be mistaken- I am not being anorexic, or even, borderline (I wish.) Anorexics do not look beautiful to me, at all, in any way. I do not strive for perfection. Granted, I am still figuring out whether or not I am, like them, trying to maintain a sense of control in a confusing, stressful life by controlling my weight, but I am not aiming to be underweight.
I just want to be light enough so that people will never, ever, ever be able to tell me, "Hey, not afraid of getting fat ah?" when I eat something and not sound ridiculous.
& it'd be totally fantastic to be able to hit my target, just so people can see that when I say I want something badly, I work my butt off to get it. So that I can see that too. STPM is a long way to go; having to wait till then to prove something like that is difficult. I am impatient. & I might not get my four flat. Losing ten kilos is easier.
Today, visiting mum's seamstress, the first thing she said when she saw me was, "Anak ka? Cantik!" After that, before leaving, said I looked like a Japanese, and I am really tall.
I flushed, of course. And obviously, as a normal (almost) human being, I was pleased.
Inner beauty is most important. Discipline is something that comes from within, and it is highly respectable & commended on. So if I discipline myself enough, lose that stupid baggage- I'd have inner beauty!
I am not joking.
Have to get more green tea tomorrow.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, passive.
Thinking, the subjective meanings of 'fine' means I am not lying.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Biscuit
Girl!
I like that term very much.
Nicknames. Being someone who used to spend hours thinking up names & character profiles for her stories, and actually enjoying it, I notice & judge nicknames more than others do.
How they were derived, whether
; from the original names, or
; from some special incident,
; or just like that.
***
My first nick should be thung. It comes from my Chinese name, Yong Chiu Thung. Thung means scarlet, which is kinda pretty. Maybe I only think so because it isn't a conventional name, like Mei, Li, Huey, Xiao...
From Thung, I got labels like Thung Thung Chiang (Lion Dance) and Thung Sampah (Rubbish Bin). I'd forgotten whether or not I minded, back then. But I had definitely disliked people knowing my nickname at home was Thung Thung, once upon a time.
I'm fine with it now, actually. Even if I get teased for it. Hey, even better- I get conversation starters & attention.
***
Then... The usual Camera, Caramel, Camel, Proton-Melia (courtesy of Primary School buddy David Ong)...
But me being called these was a rare occasion, so they left no dents, positive or negative.
***
During my tween period, I used to give myself names. Sharon was one, but that didn't last long. Cassandra was another. I think.
The longest lasting nick I gave myself was Ashley. I think I liked it so much (Still do, actually) because
; of the Ash in front. It give a greyish feel to the name, & it makes it ambiguous.
; of the -ley. I've always liked the name Lee. Clean-cut, easy to pronounce, but not bland.
Ashlee would have been really nice, but a certain Simpson...
My fondness for the name Ashley upped to an all time high when I found out that it's indeed ambiguous- there are guys named Ashley. I used it for myself in the stories I wrote, I used it to mark certain belongings of mine, & I used it for heroines in my stories who weren't me.
But my friends started recognizing my tie with the name. I didn't like how they'd think I was writing about myself every time I write about a heroine not based on me who was given the precious name. Talk about identity thefts.
So no more Ashley.
***
Raine was next. She was one of the heroines in one of my best written- scratch that, make it, my best-written story: an orphan girl (Surprise surprise...) who lives alone in New York, is secretly watched & protected by a fighter boy, comes from a prominent linage & can get in anybody's face like nobody's business.
Oh, and she has lips that darkens with the lowering of her environment temperature, turns into a mermaid & can shoot H20 from her hands. Just saying.
Okay, I ended up making her way too COOL for me not to start wanting to be her. This girl was FANTASTIC. She wasn't perfect, but the flaws that I chose to give her were the kind that brings out the beauty of human weaknesses.
But I couldn't start calling myself Raine. Some of my close friends read that story sometimes. It was too embarassing.
So Eniar was born.
***
Eniar passed on around... After my PMR, if I am not mistaken. That was when I started to really live. Went out, participated in debate, art competitions, drama, youth activities- With a real life to live that was actually pretty decent, & becoming a girl who was, not yet pretty or intelligent or golden-hearted, but still, growing in confidence- I didn't really need Eniar anymore.
Not to mention that I'd lost all my files for that story. They're all in hibernation now, Derek, Phoebe, Raine, Lucas- Until I start writing again, guys.
So when WiWi, a youth member from Sandakan, started calling me Cammy, I didn't start using it for myself. I really liked it- It sounded casual, & the way he used it was sincere & natural. But he was probably the only person who called me that. Others around us picked it up a little, but after he left for Sandakan, Cammy was no more too.
***
'Melia' is the most common nick that people use for me nowadays, from my bezzies to my classmates, that is: anyone who has known me long enough to have developed the habit of referring to me in the most convenient manner possible. Melia is quicker to pronounce than Carmelia.
Sometimes people pronounce it as 'Kem'-Melia, for ease of pronounciation, which gives it a rather sophisticated roll, in my opinion. But it isn't really accurate because of the absence of the 'r'.
I don't mind Melia. But I don't use it for myself much. Or at all, actually, because it just isn't full.
***
Fast forward to 2010, &, as people would know, I met a really, really cool person who ended up owning me.
I'd always thought I would end up just calling my boyfriend/husband by his first name, & vice versa, because I just couldn't see myself using those famous terms of endearments. Also, the type of guy I envisioned I'd end up with. Either first names, or shortened versions of our first names. (...Hm. I seem to like shortened versions of names a lot. Of course, they have to be shortened properly.) I like things to be casual between us. My best idea of romance back then was, well, always being there for each other, knowing what the other thinks, knowing almost everything- being able to just sit & talk the night away. No frills. So of course, naturally, no terms of endearments for such a... Quiet, cup-of-coffee romance. I just wasn't used to it.
Well, people change, don't they? He calls me darling, & I was startled to hear him call me that outside, in supermarkets, at home- it never occurred to me that he would. I know husband and wives who do that but... Me? A darling? It took some time to digest, but after a while, I began responding automatically to that, especially when we meet up few times in a row.
Don't get me wrong. Darling is a fantastic pet name. I mean, come on. A tall, totally gorgeous boy with beautiful eyes & a smile to die for calls you darling in the middle of the marketplace. Haha, fangirl scream much!
***
I think names are important. They are like shadows- They aren't you, & definitely don't reflect who you are, but they're stuck with you all the time, & sometimes, they remind you, more or less, of your identity. Maybe not the entire you, but still, the shape of it.
When I think of the name 'Carmelia', I tend to visualize the color green & blue. Mediocrity comes to mind, with a dash of selfishness, but somewhere in the middle... A vague tint of red that darkens occasionally. Meaning, there's still hope lah, to be something of worth.
If it's Camellia, I'd think tones of cream, delicate spirals of green with the fresh scent of vanilla <3 Or maybe even green tea! (Camilla Sinensis is Green Tea, or something like that)
But no, I had to get the one with the Malay-sounding phonics.
It's okay, though. :) I'm Malaysian what!
I have visualizations & feelings for names of most people I know. Most are influenced by the person himself, some, just because of the phonics or other connections. Interestingly, though, for the name Nigel...
It's a blank slate. Images just drift in & out but none of them could ever just stay & attach itself to the name. Maybe something clean. Just, pure. White? ...But that in itself describe emptiness, absence of, well, anything. I think there's just too many elements within that five-lettered name to be able to define it with any visualizations. I don't know for sure. Will figure it out!
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, pleased.
Thinking, Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh.
I like that term very much.
Nicknames. Being someone who used to spend hours thinking up names & character profiles for her stories, and actually enjoying it, I notice & judge nicknames more than others do.
How they were derived, whether
; from the original names, or
; from some special incident,
; or just like that.
***
My first nick should be thung. It comes from my Chinese name, Yong Chiu Thung. Thung means scarlet, which is kinda pretty. Maybe I only think so because it isn't a conventional name, like Mei, Li, Huey, Xiao...
From Thung, I got labels like Thung Thung Chiang (Lion Dance) and Thung Sampah (Rubbish Bin). I'd forgotten whether or not I minded, back then. But I had definitely disliked people knowing my nickname at home was Thung Thung, once upon a time.
I'm fine with it now, actually. Even if I get teased for it. Hey, even better- I get conversation starters & attention.
***
Then... The usual Camera, Caramel, Camel, Proton-Melia (courtesy of Primary School buddy David Ong)...
But me being called these was a rare occasion, so they left no dents, positive or negative.
***
During my tween period, I used to give myself names. Sharon was one, but that didn't last long. Cassandra was another. I think.
The longest lasting nick I gave myself was Ashley. I think I liked it so much (Still do, actually) because
; of the Ash in front. It give a greyish feel to the name, & it makes it ambiguous.
; of the -ley. I've always liked the name Lee. Clean-cut, easy to pronounce, but not bland.
Ashlee would have been really nice, but a certain Simpson...
My fondness for the name Ashley upped to an all time high when I found out that it's indeed ambiguous- there are guys named Ashley. I used it for myself in the stories I wrote, I used it to mark certain belongings of mine, & I used it for heroines in my stories who weren't me.
But my friends started recognizing my tie with the name. I didn't like how they'd think I was writing about myself every time I write about a heroine not based on me who was given the precious name. Talk about identity thefts.
So no more Ashley.
***
Raine was next. She was one of the heroines in one of my best written- scratch that, make it, my best-written story: an orphan girl (Surprise surprise...) who lives alone in New York, is secretly watched & protected by a fighter boy, comes from a prominent linage & can get in anybody's face like nobody's business.
Oh, and she has lips that darkens with the lowering of her environment temperature, turns into a mermaid & can shoot H20 from her hands. Just saying.
Okay, I ended up making her way too COOL for me not to start wanting to be her. This girl was FANTASTIC. She wasn't perfect, but the flaws that I chose to give her were the kind that brings out the beauty of human weaknesses.
But I couldn't start calling myself Raine. Some of my close friends read that story sometimes. It was too embarassing.
So Eniar was born.
***
Eniar passed on around... After my PMR, if I am not mistaken. That was when I started to really live. Went out, participated in debate, art competitions, drama, youth activities- With a real life to live that was actually pretty decent, & becoming a girl who was, not yet pretty or intelligent or golden-hearted, but still, growing in confidence- I didn't really need Eniar anymore.
Not to mention that I'd lost all my files for that story. They're all in hibernation now, Derek, Phoebe, Raine, Lucas- Until I start writing again, guys.
So when WiWi, a youth member from Sandakan, started calling me Cammy, I didn't start using it for myself. I really liked it- It sounded casual, & the way he used it was sincere & natural. But he was probably the only person who called me that. Others around us picked it up a little, but after he left for Sandakan, Cammy was no more too.
***
'Melia' is the most common nick that people use for me nowadays, from my bezzies to my classmates, that is: anyone who has known me long enough to have developed the habit of referring to me in the most convenient manner possible. Melia is quicker to pronounce than Carmelia.
Sometimes people pronounce it as 'Kem'-Melia, for ease of pronounciation, which gives it a rather sophisticated roll, in my opinion. But it isn't really accurate because of the absence of the 'r'.
I don't mind Melia. But I don't use it for myself much. Or at all, actually, because it just isn't full.
***
Fast forward to 2010, &, as people would know, I met a really, really cool person who ended up owning me.
I'd always thought I would end up just calling my boyfriend/husband by his first name, & vice versa, because I just couldn't see myself using those famous terms of endearments. Also, the type of guy I envisioned I'd end up with. Either first names, or shortened versions of our first names. (...Hm. I seem to like shortened versions of names a lot. Of course, they have to be shortened properly.) I like things to be casual between us. My best idea of romance back then was, well, always being there for each other, knowing what the other thinks, knowing almost everything- being able to just sit & talk the night away. No frills. So of course, naturally, no terms of endearments for such a... Quiet, cup-of-coffee romance. I just wasn't used to it.
Well, people change, don't they? He calls me darling, & I was startled to hear him call me that outside, in supermarkets, at home- it never occurred to me that he would. I know husband and wives who do that but... Me? A darling? It took some time to digest, but after a while, I began responding automatically to that, especially when we meet up few times in a row.
Don't get me wrong. Darling is a fantastic pet name. I mean, come on. A tall, totally gorgeous boy with beautiful eyes & a smile to die for calls you darling in the middle of the marketplace. Haha, fangirl scream much!
***
I think names are important. They are like shadows- They aren't you, & definitely don't reflect who you are, but they're stuck with you all the time, & sometimes, they remind you, more or less, of your identity. Maybe not the entire you, but still, the shape of it.
When I think of the name 'Carmelia', I tend to visualize the color green & blue. Mediocrity comes to mind, with a dash of selfishness, but somewhere in the middle... A vague tint of red that darkens occasionally. Meaning, there's still hope lah, to be something of worth.
If it's Camellia, I'd think tones of cream, delicate spirals of green with the fresh scent of vanilla <3 Or maybe even green tea! (Camilla Sinensis is Green Tea, or something like that)
But no, I had to get the one with the Malay-sounding phonics.
It's okay, though. :) I'm Malaysian what!
I have visualizations & feelings for names of most people I know. Most are influenced by the person himself, some, just because of the phonics or other connections. Interestingly, though, for the name Nigel...
It's a blank slate. Images just drift in & out but none of them could ever just stay & attach itself to the name. Maybe something clean. Just, pure. White? ...But that in itself describe emptiness, absence of, well, anything. I think there's just too many elements within that five-lettered name to be able to define it with any visualizations. I don't know for sure. Will figure it out!
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, pleased.
Thinking, Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh Awsh.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Again & Again
They think I'm unhappy because they were undecided about going out, came back, ended up not going out- I helped them decide by declaring that I'm not going out anymore. Was waiting. Jerry didn't want to go out again, after getting what he wanted from Lido. Game stuff. Sophia didn't want to leave her Taiwan soap opera.
No. Of course I'm not unhappy about that. Actually, I'm not that unhappy. More like, irritated. It's not a really big issue, actually. Nothing that I should get upset over.
My parents don't want to let me out with my boyfriend without a sibling to chaperon us.
Felt like swearing, really. What the hell, I'm not going to go Center Point or Suria and have sex. Pa talks about how they love me and don't want anything to happen. If anything 'bad' happens, then what will happen? What will we do?
First swear word deleted here. Second. Third.
The most we'd do is make out. Kiss. And that is wrong, how? I'm eighteen. I know: I'm not super-girl or an adult yet, I'm not completely matured, I must trust their wisdom and experiences. But still. I am eighteen.
Too young. Or, matured enough. People around me take either the first or second.
If I had to debate with myself on this, I frankly don't know which side would win.
Mum would get a fit if she knew my sentiments about the issue. She'd say what happened to me, and that my friends & boyfriend are evil influences.
I don't know. I think that, well, I haven't changed that much. The potential was in me. I just met up with the circumstances that pushed me off the edge.
...
I hate conflicts.
I want to be able to just go out with my boy.
Catch a movie.
, have fun at the arcade
, meet up with his friends
, have lunch together, dinner.
Go for walks on the beach
, have supper whenever he's hungry.
Just sit outside, in his car, & talk.
I want my parents to chat with him, invite him out with the family.
I want them to still nag at us not to do anything stupid.
I want them to make my boy promise he'd take good care of me.
I want them to ask us where we are, & tell us to be careful.
I want them to set curfews for us, & make sure we don't lie to them about where we go & what we do.
Fourth.
Is it worth hurting me so much just because of a suspicion that I'd do badly in my studies because I have a boyfriend? They don't know that I'm encouraged to do well mostly because of Nigel. I can't tell them. They'd scoff. And I'll admit, I don't tell partly because I'm scared to death that I won't be able to do it.
How would we know what having a boyfriend does to me? I don't want to lose him; they don't want me to have him.
But fact is, Nigel can't distract me from my homework. He's a thousand miles away, working at his own academics.
My biggest distraction now is this stupid stupid balance I have to keep on this stupid stupid see-saw.
Fifth.
Perhaps this is only a phase. I might just get over it soon. Maybe I won't be the person I am now a year later. Maybe.
It's unlikely, though, given that I hadn't changed for seven years over Howe. & that was nothing compared to what I have now.
Other couples fight & argue. They have issues with one another, they post emo quotes being angry at each other. They get jealous. Their heartaches are followed by hours & days not speaking to each other. They tether on the edge of breaking up because of what the other did, or did not do.
I don't think we'd have the chance to experience any of that. I am not saying that I want to fight with Nigel. Who would want that in any relationship? But fact of the matter is, having to struggle through so much opposition, there simply isn't any room for internal arguments anymore.
That's probably a good thing. I'm learning how to appreciate & love him, to just let go. Sometimes I do feel annoyed & defensive.
But I wouldn't be able to mend things if I break anything.
I wouldn't be able to show up with cake or lunch & say sorry.
I wouldn't be able to come over & talk things out.
I wouldn't be able to spend five minutes hugging him for one minute of misery I'd caused him.
& he's already tolerating having a girlfriend that he can't spend time properly with. I don't want to make things worse.
If I could see things from my parents' perspective...
I'd probably see a too-young, 18-year-old daughter who has a major examination to sit for this year. I'd probably be thinking that the guy she's infatuated with is also still studying. Their relationship isn't going to last. I don't want her to give him so much and end up terribly heartbroken. I want her to concentrate on the examination that is going to determine her future, with or without a boyfriend. It is wrong for her to be kissing or making out with any guy now. She won't be able to control herself and end up pregnant. She's only eighteen.
Okay. Like I said, I don't want to argue. I hate fighting. I hate letting my boy be something that I have to fight with my parents over. It's wrong.
I'll just crouch & hide my face in my arms & wait for the stupid storm outside to stop. Wincing at every roll of thunder. Maybe go out for the occasional dance, get drenched & hope I won't get sick- Enjoy life to the fullest, that is. Or almost fullest. How can I, when my bestfriend's not around?
I'm not throwing the word bestfriend around. He really is my best. The male equivalent to Melissa in terms of friendship. Even better.
BUT WHO CARES, RIGHT?
Or rather, WHO BELIEVES IT?
I didn't have a boyfriend in 2009 & I only got 7 As for my SPM. So what caused that? My love affair with the dog?
Don't stereotype us.
Sixth.
Seventh. Don't be so emotional, Carmelia. Offline NOW.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, very tired.
Thinking, I really shouldn't be so emotional & negative... But what is written, is written.
No. Of course I'm not unhappy about that. Actually, I'm not that unhappy. More like, irritated. It's not a really big issue, actually. Nothing that I should get upset over.
My parents don't want to let me out with my boyfriend without a sibling to chaperon us.
Felt like swearing, really. What the hell, I'm not going to go Center Point or Suria and have sex. Pa talks about how they love me and don't want anything to happen. If anything 'bad' happens, then what will happen? What will we do?
First swear word deleted here. Second. Third.
The most we'd do is make out. Kiss. And that is wrong, how? I'm eighteen. I know: I'm not super-girl or an adult yet, I'm not completely matured, I must trust their wisdom and experiences. But still. I am eighteen.
Too young. Or, matured enough. People around me take either the first or second.
If I had to debate with myself on this, I frankly don't know which side would win.
Mum would get a fit if she knew my sentiments about the issue. She'd say what happened to me, and that my friends & boyfriend are evil influences.
I don't know. I think that, well, I haven't changed that much. The potential was in me. I just met up with the circumstances that pushed me off the edge.
...
I hate conflicts.
I want to be able to just go out with my boy.
Catch a movie.
, have fun at the arcade
, meet up with his friends
, have lunch together, dinner.
Go for walks on the beach
, have supper whenever he's hungry.
Just sit outside, in his car, & talk.
I want my parents to chat with him, invite him out with the family.
I want them to still nag at us not to do anything stupid.
I want them to make my boy promise he'd take good care of me.
I want them to ask us where we are, & tell us to be careful.
I want them to set curfews for us, & make sure we don't lie to them about where we go & what we do.
Fourth.
Is it worth hurting me so much just because of a suspicion that I'd do badly in my studies because I have a boyfriend? They don't know that I'm encouraged to do well mostly because of Nigel. I can't tell them. They'd scoff. And I'll admit, I don't tell partly because I'm scared to death that I won't be able to do it.
How would we know what having a boyfriend does to me? I don't want to lose him; they don't want me to have him.
But fact is, Nigel can't distract me from my homework. He's a thousand miles away, working at his own academics.
My biggest distraction now is this stupid stupid balance I have to keep on this stupid stupid see-saw.
Fifth.
Perhaps this is only a phase. I might just get over it soon. Maybe I won't be the person I am now a year later. Maybe.
It's unlikely, though, given that I hadn't changed for seven years over Howe. & that was nothing compared to what I have now.
Other couples fight & argue. They have issues with one another, they post emo quotes being angry at each other. They get jealous. Their heartaches are followed by hours & days not speaking to each other. They tether on the edge of breaking up because of what the other did, or did not do.
I don't think we'd have the chance to experience any of that. I am not saying that I want to fight with Nigel. Who would want that in any relationship? But fact of the matter is, having to struggle through so much opposition, there simply isn't any room for internal arguments anymore.
That's probably a good thing. I'm learning how to appreciate & love him, to just let go. Sometimes I do feel annoyed & defensive.
But I wouldn't be able to mend things if I break anything.
I wouldn't be able to show up with cake or lunch & say sorry.
I wouldn't be able to come over & talk things out.
I wouldn't be able to spend five minutes hugging him for one minute of misery I'd caused him.
& he's already tolerating having a girlfriend that he can't spend time properly with. I don't want to make things worse.
If I could see things from my parents' perspective...
I'd probably see a too-young, 18-year-old daughter who has a major examination to sit for this year. I'd probably be thinking that the guy she's infatuated with is also still studying. Their relationship isn't going to last. I don't want her to give him so much and end up terribly heartbroken. I want her to concentrate on the examination that is going to determine her future, with or without a boyfriend. It is wrong for her to be kissing or making out with any guy now. She won't be able to control herself and end up pregnant. She's only eighteen.
Okay. Like I said, I don't want to argue. I hate fighting. I hate letting my boy be something that I have to fight with my parents over. It's wrong.
I'll just crouch & hide my face in my arms & wait for the stupid storm outside to stop. Wincing at every roll of thunder. Maybe go out for the occasional dance, get drenched & hope I won't get sick- Enjoy life to the fullest, that is. Or almost fullest. How can I, when my bestfriend's not around?
I'm not throwing the word bestfriend around. He really is my best. The male equivalent to Melissa in terms of friendship. Even better.
BUT WHO CARES, RIGHT?
Or rather, WHO BELIEVES IT?
I didn't have a boyfriend in 2009 & I only got 7 As for my SPM. So what caused that? My love affair with the dog?
Don't stereotype us.
Sixth.
Seventh. Don't be so emotional, Carmelia. Offline NOW.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, very tired.
Thinking, I really shouldn't be so emotional & negative... But what is written, is written.
Frustration
But I control.
Well, honestly, not much sentient control, as in, I don't have to employ conscious willpower to stop myself from screaming at my parents or break something or cry.
Maybe one day I'd look back on all this & laugh at myself for being such a silly little eighteen-year-old emo.
Or maybe instead, I'd wonder & hurt, all over again, for the decisions my parents make for me.
Whatever it's going to be, I just can't argue or fight with my parents now over it. I need the emotional stability (more or less stable, at least) to be able to focus on my studies & get my four flat.
& get the hell out of here.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, annoyed.
Thinking, whatever.
Well, honestly, not much sentient control, as in, I don't have to employ conscious willpower to stop myself from screaming at my parents or break something or cry.
Maybe one day I'd look back on all this & laugh at myself for being such a silly little eighteen-year-old emo.
Or maybe instead, I'd wonder & hurt, all over again, for the decisions my parents make for me.
Whatever it's going to be, I just can't argue or fight with my parents now over it. I need the emotional stability (more or less stable, at least) to be able to focus on my studies & get my four flat.
& get the hell out of here.
Signed, Carmelia.
Feeling, annoyed.
Thinking, whatever.
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