I sat on the bus today and saw my reflection in the misty glass window that filled with raindrops and the occasional ones that fell slanted in a zig-zaggy pattern.
Just cried for about 2 hours chatting on the telephone. Feeling absolutely crap, my emotions bouncing off the walls, going to extremes, from bleak to sarcastic to affectionate, and without fully wanting it, was an absolute pain to the person on the other line. Z to be exact. Gosh felt so helpless, felt so empty and sad, wanted to hug him, wanted to be with him. Yet the uncertainty and the physical distance drove me apart from him, drove us away. At times I know I was being delirious, unreasonable, exaggerated, I know I was very draining to him, I was feeling extremely drained and weary myself.
My intention had been to end this whole thing, and walk away, but once again I found myself wanting to give this another go, I didn't want to let go just yet. Even though the hope is very slim. Very very slim. I actually laughed when he said, it's going to take 2 to 5 years time when he 'might' come over and join me. I didn't know how else to react. 6 months, granted, but 2-5 years and it's a 'maybe'??? What to do? Let go? Shall I let go? Part of me is desperately clinging on, clinging to a blade of grass at the cliff's edge feeling the inevitable disappointment and eventual pull of gravity, till I slide and hit hard onto the face of reality. Does LDR really suck dry the soul of its victim? That's a casual observational comment some of my close Melbourne friends made. I wonder how much truth there is in that.
xiao ying @ 12:30 AM.
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