Let's talk.

Dear diary,

You've been lonely. These days you sit at a corner of my room and dust, layers and layers of dust, are your only friends. I'm sorry, i'm sorry that I've now forgotten how to write.

These days I get lazy and I'd rather talk, not write. These days I sleep at 10.30 if possible and my life has no room for a 30-min confessional diary writing time. For that I'm sorry.

It's my birthday today. Friends start talking to me and wishing me happy birthday. But all I can think about is you.

How you walked me through my darkest days, most from hall life, and how at one point of time I relied on no
One but you.

Dear diary, I'm sorry that you are now neglected. I love you, but these days I love leaving thoughts in my mind even
More.

Dead diary, give me some time, I will come back to you.

Made a choice.

It could be anyone, but it had to be you.

I was combing facebook (latest bad habit), and I saw C's latest photo. He found the girl he was searching for. They are happy. I'm overwhelmed because I walked out on him (always felt guilty) and chose X.

Right now, he is having the time of his life with his new girl. Me, I made a choice to stick with a guy who will most definitely be stationed far away from me, for a long time.

Who benefitted? And most importantly, does it matter?

#sundaynightblues.

What the fuck.

I would like to gently say the words "what the fuck". Because "what the fuck" is this shameless idea of giving our relationship a second chance and "what the fuck" or actually "why the fuck" are we not able to talk on the phone? Or wait I forgot u are at a celebrity birthday party and you probably have to entertain every bloody fucking person except well, me. Your ever faithful girlfriend in singapore. Sorry but "why the fuck" am I suppose to understand this? And "what the fuck" am I doing to myself by staying in this "what the fuck" relationship?

Oh wait, did i bust some fuck limit? I sure hope so.