If I am a well, I am dried by now. I have no more water left in the well, so jus let me stop crying would you. Wish JY was here. I really couldnt take it.

Maybe really my dearest pal can understand this only. The rest will think that I am rattling rubbish. But never mind its my blog, I can write what I want. And I have to write, to express my emotions, hoping that my hurt will be reduced, that sadness will fade away faster. I have to write, to stop my tears from running faster than my fingers. I have to write, to vent everything out so that I can continue with my tomorrow.

I cant imagine I jus send out one of the longest text messages. 5 text messages in total. And today did I realise that there is a limit to how long your nick can be on msn. But it hurt so much. It doesnt hurt because I cant get what I want. From some long ago Roman history, I already understood the cruel yet utter truth of life- I cant always have what I want, jus because I wanted it. I learnt it well. Especially from you. You always make me feel like I am living on a thin line, always make me expect all the unexpected. So what else hadnt I learnt well enough to cause me all my tears?

I guess I hadnt learn well to be all so independent. Because I was so dependent. So dependent on you, such that it makes myself believe I cant do with you, that you can solve all my unpeaceful emotions, that you can solve my unachievable. Well, you did, but really so what. You have to leave, like everyone else. Like everyone else that I have lost, that have left.

But do you know what all my rattling is about? I dont think you do, since you cant bother with anything now. But do you treasure this friendship. I know treasuring friendship is not achieved by merely writing : Yes I treasure our friendship. But when things happen, sometimes I wonder if I ever exist before in your life. I ever exist in whatever-your-category-of-friends-or-not-friends. Because it seems that I find no traces of me in your memories, that I find no existence of me in your dont-know-how-many-categories. Because it seems that you never bother what this friend is doing, how this friend is. But of course, if I have to blurnt, I know you. I know you arent someone to call up and ask how am I. And not doing that doesnt mean that you didnt care, but you care in your manner. J used to say that by not doing what one expect doesnt mean that one is not doing. Jus that all these and whatever had happened jus made me so sick. So sick of always the one who is overly concerned over you. So sick of being a shadow in your life. So sick of being a ghost in your life. Ya?

Everything that has to be said is made clear in those countless and long sms. If you want to further build a wall or any or that sort, there is nothing I can do. If not, then like many-of-you-and-my-befores, the next time we will appear as though nothing has happened. As though no text messages of that sort is exchanged. As though there is no line that needs to be drawn further.

I can only cry and hope that the sunshine is strong enough to dry them.