Chapter Sixty-Four: Lessons, lessons, lessons

Learnt so much over the course of today. Or rather experienced.

I noticed how it feels to have three doctors staring at you at the same time scrutinising your face. Terms like PIH, TPS or what-nots all come out while you sit staring at your feet or looking out the window.

I wet to get professional help for the face, have a feeling that it would work because I trust NSC. The last time I went there I had some fungal infection on my hands (imagine pus oozing out) and with the medication from NSC, BANG and the fungus was gone!

/

I saw how downtrodden his face was. He said: “Are you going to ODAC tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course”

“Haha, ok good”

He first looked at me. He turned to his right and walked but not without giving a hopeful glance at the person standing behind me. I knew that face. The face that was so filled with hope but yet so filled with uncertainty whether he should have greeted her or at least tried to.

I tried to raise the subject but decided against it. I saw in his eyes, just for that fleeting moment the look of defeat.

I wish that she had just said a hi to him. Just a little hello.

Men aren’t the strongest. Physically yes, but the things a woman can do to a man’s mind is something he can only dream of manipulating. The way a man loves makes him subject to her whim, her fancy and she, the subject of his adulation.

/

I only found out today that a friend felt a certain way about another person.

Women, no matter how small or how big find comfort in men who are bigger. Like seriuzly. You may possess the looks but if you aren’t of height, who cares. You may be the nicest, the most charming but if you aren’t of height, who cares. Yes, you may argue that this is rather a pessimistic view of how women look at women.

But it’s scientifically proven.

And from my past experiences, yes, it’s true. Time and time again, the shorter of the two has been pushed to one side for the bigger one. Admit it or not, the comfort, the way he holds you, the way he lifts you in his strong arms more than influences your decision to love.

There are always exceptions.
/

Hey there Chun Yan (did I get it right?), you may not be reading this or maybe you would or maybe your friend would direct you here but I do hope that you’ll read what I have to say.

I heard your tears fell freely as he left. Although I can envision what the scene would have been like with him leaving, I don’t want to. I’ve been through it once, a friend has been through it once, so has another and you’ve experienced what few can say they’ve experienced.

Tears are not useless. I retract my earlier statement. Tears are like buckets of rain. They wash away pain inside you, they try to cleanse what your eyes see, try to cleanse your soul but like everything, crying does stop after awhile.

The pain in your heart will take time to heal. There’ll always be that emptiness in your heart, the way first loves (or seconds) leave an indelible dent in your heart. Oh how ironic it is for the heart to miss something the moment it is absent from your life.

Take your time for tears to run dry, for your heart to beat regularly again, for your mind to clear itself and take time for your love to figure itself out. I wish you love, I wish you luck and I wish you whatever my heart can offer you through words that can only attempt to comfort you.

He’ll come back. Forever isn’t a word, it’s a feeling you get when time passes oh-so-slowly.

/

waht an emo day.