I have evil thoughts in my head lately. I am in love in someway with someone else. I can't believe this is really happening to me. The worst of all, I am married. I have to pretend to be friend with him; no second option. The truth is that by being friend, it buys me time to be with him. Nonetheless, this whole thing is jeopardizing me.
Being close to him; sitting beside him; chatting; laughing at his jokes; asking him questions; sometimes responding to his requests; doing him favors; complimenting his outfits; walking with him; sending him text messages; reading his messages; petting his shoulders....This list is still far from completion.
The most crucial thing, did I mention that I am married? I kept thinking if I could marry him in the first place... That kind of sucks.
Life is full of choices; One leads to another. Ironically, the fact is that if I wasn't married, I probably wouldn't have met the guy that I currently have a thing for. "Cope with it. C'est la vie,'' said I, to myself.
Labels: writing
I hate to admit, yet crying really helps releasing stress, indeed.
This morning, I woke up so early. I couldn't fall asleep again, for I suddenly realized that I had lots of homework that needed to be done. I had been afraid of not having enough sleep may result in drowsiness during Toefl classes, so I figured if I could do the work now, I could catch up on some sleep in the afternoon. Even more, I might have the energy to do the homework.
Subsequently, I started preparing the mood for working. As soon as I unzipped the file which I ought to work on, I learned that the editor said that this column was flexible. I could do either two, three or four pages, up to me. I really hated that. To me, that meant I needed to do editor's work. At first, I dealt with it, tried to figure out what were the best pages for the article. After a while, I was haunted by a sense of desperateness. I kept telling myself ''Yes, I can.'' ''No, I can't,'' back and forth for few rounds. Then I burst into tears.
Cried, cried, and cried.
''Why is she doing this to me?''
''Why can't I just accept for the way it is?''
''Why didn't she do her job?'
''Why can't I help her a little more?''
''Why can I only do so little?''
''Why can't I stop complaining?''
I cried for at least twenty minutes. Eventually I stopped crying, and then I thought, ''Wow, crying helps...''