...

... I don't like talking about you anymore. It makes me remember why things fell apart. It reminds me of how I could've saved myself but didn't.

I don't really like bumping into you anymore. Sadly, I still consider them as fateful encounters. Unfortunately, I still hate you for making me hate me.

But I don't really hate you. I just hate the me i have become after you.

That's why I don't get to blog that much anymore. It's like this blog is a living memorabilia of how i bitched about you, cried because of you, laughed and well... smiled and then cried and frowned again afterwards. A friend of mine once told me that I have a gift for making other people happy... but just like fortune-tellers, I could not have the same effect on ME. That's said right? Well... I am sad.

You have become my limitation. My secret fence.

I want to go out.