| View Blog
|
|
|
|
| The Phonecall |
'I am hopefully tormenting her,' he says. I don't utter a single word for ten whole minutes i.e. the entire duration of the call. All the people around him who laugh and joke about another's affliction: they all surely have had some disappointments in their lives too. People hardly get the opportunity to laugh at others' pain, so whenever they manage to procure one, they simply pounce on it. God must exist, at least to punish these people; at least to ensure that some justice is maintained in this world.
What else can I say, I just continue lowering myself as usual, my dignity, pride, reputation or whatever people call it. They think I don't have a life but in fact I know I do have one. I think my dad was right when he said, "You are never satisfied with what you have; and probably can never be." It seems that I always find something to monotonously complain about, I am never ever happy with my life. I always strongly desire to have those which aren't mine or which I couldn't get. He isn't in my life, probably that's why I want him. Perhaps if he were in it, I still wouldn't have been happy enough and resume my cycle of complaintive depression, expressing my dissatisfaction over some newfound issue. It just goes on: I will keep feeding people for gossips and rumours, keep entertaining people with my silly actions, demeaning my self-respect if at all it exists now knowingly. I don't know whether I can call this courage, or what exactly drives me into sinking in an abyssal hole of stupidity. Love, may be. Or perhaps hope: hope that some day, at some point, things will change for the better, he will change his mind. Or perhaps he never will. But there is perhaps even a less than 1% chance, which isn't too negligible as long as it exists. It might just all sum up to a series of tests God is putting me through to examine my strength of endurance and patience and there is some chance that my constant effort might be rewarded in future. I sometimes wonder whether I should give up though; the consequences of my actions might be the complete opposite of what I hope for. I am still very confused...confusion powering my curiosity which in turn spurs me to put in higher effort when I should be expending it on something more useful I know.
I have so many things to cherish in my life, I often realize. My life would have been so great - I could have been so happy, had I not ever met him; had he not hurt me and devastated me like this. It was his birthday yesterday. I want to speak to him once, to ask him again, why he did all these. And how he is going to pay me back for the loss it incurred me. But he never has the courage to pick up the phone and talk when his friends aren't around to laugh at me. He never dares to talk to me when he is alone. Perhaps because he knows very well he has wronged me?
|
|
Posted by Aphrodite on 2008-09-09 13:20:32 | Rating: | Views: 107
|
|
| |
|
|