pretending to be happy is a misery. i AM miserable. i pretend to be happy in front of my friends, my family, my band mates; that is pure misery. i can’t get it out of my head. i can’t talk to anyone about it. i want very much to talk about things, but i just can’t. no one’s there. no one’s freaking there. many say they understand, but how much of that is true? how much do they really understand?
i’ve always been the one out there for anyone. i’ve always made sure that everyone else around me is happy. i do a little something for everyone i care about. it pays to be kind, right? NO. that slapped me right in my face. i listen when my friends need someone to talk to. i was there when she, or anyone else needed me. i was always there, in one way or other. however much i had to sacrifice, i did it. all that for what? i dedicated my whole life, my whole future, my everything to the relationship. even though i knew that my world would probably collapse because of it, i still did it, thinking that sincerity would change everything. yes, it did change everything. everything about me was changed. nothing else changed. i was never a good bf; i’d probably never will be one. nobody loved me for who i really am. they only love me for who i’m willing to become. and i go to the ends of the world to do that, but so what?
love hurts. all the time. what’s holding me back from going into a new relationship is exactly what got me out of the last one. what’s holding me back from asking some hot date out for dinner is exactly what i’m not willing to go through. love hurt me really bad. and it still hurts. every single moment. i can’t go on pretending that i’m happy. i don’t deny that there are times where i’m really happy. but most of the time i just pretend. stay strong. stay positive. look on the bright side. try flipping your damn life upside down before doing all these. everyone has their difficult moments. but when they have their difficult moments, here i am. always. but now when i really need someone, everyone comes and say stuff about himself/herself. it was never about me. life was never about me. never was, never will be.
i worked so hard to get where i am today. no one gives a damn. all they care is whether what i do will bring in money or just waste more money. i wanna go to holland and aberdeen. but i’m so broke i don’t even have money to buy reeds for myself. i had to take reeds from steph. and i wasn’t even thinking of how i was going there to enjoy myself. i was thinking of what to buy for my friends. the friends whom are always on my mind do not put me on theirs. because they think i’m some superman who can take any shit without the need to talk about it? i worked so hard. learnt the guitar from scratch. now i even write my own songs. nobody says ‘good job!’ or something of the like. i fought hard to get my grade 8 and all people think is that i’m proud. i think i’m good, that’s why i go for the exams, for the cert to show that i’m good. no one acknowledges the amount of hard work i put in for the exam. i made sure i freaking passed. not just that. i tried to make sure that i’d do well. nothing. not a single word. especially from her. top scorer for grade 6. not a single congratulation. i even had to invite my own audience! to make them think that i’m such a big headed guy. i’d rather perform for strangers if that’s the case.
i’m suffering. really bad. but who gives a damn? must something happen to me before people show some concern? for the moment, love is on my hate list. because love is a bunch of crap. because i’m so insignificant that it probably don’t matter.
just gotta work hard for my money. about time i did something meaningful. oh no, class gathering. better go now.