A hateful statement.

Sometimes, I hate what I do because it takes too much time and energy out of me. I am mostly at my work place for about 10 hours this whole week and I won't even be getting a day off for two weeks straight. Yes, even on Sundays! Next week, I need to be there on the night shift from 11pm to 8am, probably until 10am. Plus, I need to bring work home with me too!

I don't eat and sleep properly too, so, let's hope I won't be getting any severe migraines to survive the coming weeks.

Right now, I am so full of hate.



Because right now, I hate men. Everytime we give a chance to men, men somehow manage to prove the fact that they love to give empty promises.

Heartless creatures.

My friend is devastated after finding out her boyfriend, now, ex-boyfriend, is already engaged with someone else two weeks ago, by accident. Within that two weeks, this guy still saw my friend regularly, never mentioned about his engagement and still gave my friend false hope about how he was going to marry her one day.

And all this while, there we were, thinking how sweet her boyfriend was. We even told our boyfriends to be more like him.

One year of lies.

Maybe, this is a just phase. I remember how depress I was when my ex-boyfriend cheated on me. I was almost blinded by tears. I thought I would never heal because the pain was too much.

I think of myself as a realist. Before the experience, I always wondered, why do people say their hearts ache? Or why when expressing our emotions, we would rest our hands on the chest? I thought emotions are really, all generated by the brain. The heart only does the pumping of blood, supplying oxygen to the rest of the body. But why do we still relate emotions with the heart?

So, during my major depression, I felt a strange sensation of hurt. I literally felt pain on my chest that I kept rubbing my chest for comfort. Within all the sadness, I asked myself, "Why does it hurt so much? Why? I shouldn't be hurt. I am physically okay but why does it hurt, on my chest?"

Then, it hit me. It is true, my heart was broken, because I could feel it there.

I felt weak. I hated the feelings, I wanted to cut open my chest and threw the pain away. I needed something to numb my pain, up to a point I wish I was allowed to drink alcoholic beverages.

I cried day and night thinking, 'Why me, am I not good enough?' I tried to distract myself by doing the usual things, but it didn't work. I cried while watching the TV, I cried while eating ice creams (which by the way, tasted a bit salty because of my tear drops), I even cried while performing my prayers despite telling myself- Batal sembahyang kalau menangis. I held back my tears hard and when finished (solat), I broke down again.

I felt really lonely because I am good at masking my emotions. Whenever with friends, I'd act as if I was not that affected by the whole situation. My ego insisted, "I never really loved him anyway!" but my concious wondered why did it hurt. I refused to be perceived as weak or let myself to be defeated, that's why I put on a strong, brave face to the world, but behind close doors, I was fragile and broken.

From sadness led to anger. The concious crept into me slowly: I am beautiful, smart and I am a nice person. Therefore, I deserve someone so much better. I am glad I know his true colours now, my life will be over if I actually married this sly and found out about him then.

I told my boyfriend about what had happened to my poor friend. I got so emotional and started to accuse him of neglecting me. I said he was showing signs of uselessness, so, before he cheated on me, it was better for me to get rid of him first.

I hate men.

And no, we did not break up, but almost. :)