I want to be there.
Term tests are finally over, the ones that I've been cramming so crazily for over the past few weeks, apart from the usual weekly quizzes. I'm still not so sure about my HPI paper, because there were some questions I really didn't know how to answer so hopefully, I'll manage to pass it.
Air-con repairmen are at my house now, repairing the air-conditioner in my room. It broke down in the middle of the night a day ago. I was left perspiring in bed, but was way too tired to get up and switch on the fan. I had been getting up at 6.30am just to get to school early. Yup, term test week was a crazy one.
My dear boy is having his last paper today.
I haven't had much time to reflect on our relationship lately. It's been pretty stressful, what with the pressure of school and tests and, you know, for a Biomed Science student, the work is always incoming. It gets to me and I think my subconscious turns mean, and I blurt out something jokingly-mean to him without realising it's hurtful.
I hate this.
I hate being mean to him. It's weird being mean to someone you love so much, you know? It's contradictory, and there's never reason in it. I don't like it when he talks about how I can't go overseas to study, when all I want is to get far away from here from all these people I know. I just want to be with things that can't talk back with me, can't reason, can't argue or pick fights. I'd even talk to Oscar Wilde's tombstone.
I don't like it when he tells me never to wear a particular piece of clothing again, because I don't look good in it. Sometimes I just want to heck it anyway because I'm having such a bad day and can't be bothered to deal with anyone else's unhappiness. And yet, time after time, I still can't being myself to wear the clothes he doesn't like.
I wonder if I'm lying to myself.
I cry about these things and, if you know me, you know I don't cry about just anything. I want to live life my way, do things I want, when I want, wear what I want, study what I want, work where I want, eat where I want, and not have to think about somebody else's opinions. That's what freedom is about, isn't it?
It's frustrating to cry about something stupid every two days, just because the other person is unhappy about it and starts to argue. I never argue back, I don't like to. Sometimes loneliness is best. I just want to steal away and sulk quietly somewhere, or buy a plane ticket out of here.
Yet, under all this, I know I still love him to bits.
Term tests are finally over, the ones that I've been cramming so crazily for over the past few weeks, apart from the usual weekly quizzes. I'm still not so sure about my HPI paper, because there were some questions I really didn't know how to answer so hopefully, I'll manage to pass it.
Air-con repairmen are at my house now, repairing the air-conditioner in my room. It broke down in the middle of the night a day ago. I was left perspiring in bed, but was way too tired to get up and switch on the fan. I had been getting up at 6.30am just to get to school early. Yup, term test week was a crazy one.
My dear boy is having his last paper today.
I haven't had much time to reflect on our relationship lately. It's been pretty stressful, what with the pressure of school and tests and, you know, for a Biomed Science student, the work is always incoming. It gets to me and I think my subconscious turns mean, and I blurt out something jokingly-mean to him without realising it's hurtful.
I hate this.
I hate being mean to him. It's weird being mean to someone you love so much, you know? It's contradictory, and there's never reason in it. I don't like it when he talks about how I can't go overseas to study, when all I want is to get far away from here from all these people I know. I just want to be with things that can't talk back with me, can't reason, can't argue or pick fights. I'd even talk to Oscar Wilde's tombstone.
I don't like it when he tells me never to wear a particular piece of clothing again, because I don't look good in it. Sometimes I just want to heck it anyway because I'm having such a bad day and can't be bothered to deal with anyone else's unhappiness. And yet, time after time, I still can't being myself to wear the clothes he doesn't like.
I wonder if I'm lying to myself.
I cry about these things and, if you know me, you know I don't cry about just anything. I want to live life my way, do things I want, when I want, wear what I want, study what I want, work where I want, eat where I want, and not have to think about somebody else's opinions. That's what freedom is about, isn't it?
It's frustrating to cry about something stupid every two days, just because the other person is unhappy about it and starts to argue. I never argue back, I don't like to. Sometimes loneliness is best. I just want to steal away and sulk quietly somewhere, or buy a plane ticket out of here.
Yet, under all this, I know I still love him to bits.
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