It Was You.

You were the reason I made this blog. And the other one. And post on the one on campus. Guess what? People like it. I have a lot of people saying they like my thoughts, that they find them amusing and enlighting.

You were behind me ever since the start of my job. You're the one who always said, "You're not a kid anymore, you're an adult! You have a carreer!" That got me through. Two years, a raise, and a promotion.

You got me thinking about things I never thought I could think about. You triggered my brain to work, you introduced me to a thing called "serious discussion". I turned to debating because of you. I won two championships, sweetheart. You made me this way.

The thing is, I never can understand why you do these things in such cold approaches.
That was it, wasn't it? That was the basic difference that sets us apart. I can't bring myself to believe that you actually wanted to help me. You can't bring yourself to understand why I could prioritize things so unproportionally.

I read something you wrote, something that was once very personal to you. I don't know why you'd put it up for everyone to read, but I was very, very surprised to see you opening up. And you know what? I felt a little pride in here. Look at you, allowing people to see what's on your mind and all. You stepped out of that "loner" image!
We both have very different paths of life. It was something I learned on my own, you're a brilliant man, but you have your own way, enlightening others who pass ways with you. You will not be thoroughly understood by many, including myself, but your amazing perception will always make people look up to you.

You made people learn so much. No doubt you are one of the greatest people I've met during my short life...and I thought, I really thought, I could be a part of this. I thought I could step into your views and introduced you to my own. I thought I have the capability to create an impact on you.

But I was wrong. Instead, I hurt you like no woman has ever done before.

And now, when it's all over, I looked behind my shoulder and saw you happy....and I was happy.
I wished, like I've never wished before, that you would remember me even a fraction of how I remember you.
I wished, and I knelt praying, that I could meant something to you.
I may never know this, I may never know what you think of me, but my worst fear of all.....
my deepest fear is to know that you regret having known me at all.
That you thought I was the biggest mistake in your life.

Just the thought of this stabbed myself so hard, I can't think of senseful sentences to continue this with.
Why. Did I have to lose you. That way.

God, are you listening to me? Please, I beg You, make our time together worthwhile for him. Even just for the smallest bit You can manage.

Tonight, for the first time in months, I cried for you. For losing you.

It was you. You helped me to all this...and this is all for you.

Why English?

This place was not meant to be seen. I wrote a lot of really personal posts here, things that might shock my peers & acquaintances. That's why I don't put my real name / age / gender (though you might've assumed, dear readers, that I am a female). That's also why I never put any links here. I don't want people to know who I know, or sites I'm most likely to be at. I wanted it to be completely anonymous and impersonal, to make up for the personal things I write. You won't even know what country I'm in.

Now, I realize that this is quite self-centered of me, being all isolated as if someone actually cares to find out who I really am, but hey. We all want to feel important.

So anyway. After a few while, the site leaked to some of my friends, and I thought, "Oh well, it's on the internet, people should see it", so I let them see it. But then I began to receive some complaints, "Why do you have to write it in English? It's harder to understand that way! I don't know what you're saying!" (there you go, another hint. I don't live in an English-speaking country). Most of the times I just replied with a smile.
It's actually because I felt more comfortable expressing myself in this language.
Go ahead, judge me as a Westernist. I don't care. I do feel a lot more comfortable writing English. I was taught for five years to get accustomed to it, and I'm not going to throw it all away. I don't care how people say I'm just trying to show off, people who say that obviously overestimated my skills, not knowing the occassional horror I suffer from the typos and grammatical errors in this blog. The fact is, my brain mostly works in English (obnoxious as it may sound). It's not something I do intentionally, just so happens that I'm more cut out for this language than my own mother's.
So there.

The language (or the ludicrous behaviour) throws you off? Don't read this blog. Like I said, this place was not made to be seen publically.

Speaking of writing, I haven't posted anything about stuff other than Yours Truly these days. My brain's starting to get numb. Have to work, quick.