"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens up your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

You build up all these defences, you build up a whole suite of armour, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dump one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should just be friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul hurt, a real get-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

-Neil Gaiman-

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I took that quote from my friend's blog.
I was the stupid person who smiled at him.
I was the stupid person who said, 'let's just be friends'
I feel stupid.
Maybe, I am.
But he did not give up. Impressive.

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The worse thing that can happen to someone is for one to be able to foresee doom, and yet not be able to do anything about it.

As the day draws closer, she starts to count the hours, the minutes, down to the very last seconds. Tick Tock goes the clock, seeming to count down to a day which she fervently hope would not dawn. The feeling is one that eats into her, day by day, as the same thoughts, over and over, flash across her mind every minute, every second, reminding her that time is running out, slipping pass her fingers. That feeling is dread.

It was a mistake. A fatal one. One that determines her future. No, one that cost her future. She can't do anything about it. All she can do is wait. Wait. And wait. Silently, she snatches at a small glimmer of hope, trying to place as much faith as she possibly can on herself, but it was futile. The beacon of hope shines dimly in the distant, but it is suffice to bring a smile onto her face, enabling her to pass each day peacefully, if not happily. Despite all this, reality comes knocking every once in a while, and she will be tormented all over again, wishing, condeming herself, wondering how on earth could she have made such a terrible mistake.

Time. It is all that is separating her from confronting her fears. Time shall heal all wounds, or so they say. But in everything, there is always two sides to a coin. Time heals. Yes, that may be true, but time is also the root of all problems.

Everyone only has 24 hours. It's what we do with it that matters. That's what everyone says. What if, we have no control as to what we do with the time trust onto us? No, you say. Everyone has their own choices to make. What we do with our time, is our own choice, and ours alone. No one is able to make them for you. But have they ever considered that the requirements of society made up by Man himself is in fact helping most people to choose? Have they ever considered that all our choices are in fact revolved round what the society wants, what the society expects?

Then someone points out, but isn't the society we live in made up by Man? So technically, we made up those rules we adhere to, we are the ones that trap ourselves. Hence, we chose this path. By ourselves. Or is it?

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I took off the previous entry as I suspect that is slows my blog down by a hundred time, if not a thousand. A million apologies to those who have not viewed the pictures.

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"Daddy! Which one is my charger! None of 'em can fit into my phone!" She cried out frantically as she tried to push the charger into the phone. None of them could fit into the tiny hole at the side of the phone.

"It's all on the table. Yours is the small one!" came the faraway reply.

She just got cut off from a phone call due to weak batteries. Yup! It always happens.

"Daddy! I still can't find the charger!!" She called out again.

It was late at night. She could hear her voice reverberating throughout the house. That's the price to pay for a double volume ceiling.

Finally, her dad slowly strolled into the room, dragging his feet as he entered the room.

"Isn't it on the table?"

She started plugging the black one again, just to show that it doesn't fit.

"No, no. Yours is the grey one."

She immediately released the black one and reach for the grey one. She tried plugging it into the phone. It doesn't fit.

"Eh? no no. Yours is the black one, the smaller one."

Frowning, she released the grey charger and reached for the black one again.

"No, no! Yours should be a smaller one. That's too big."

Looking exasperated, she reached for the grey one again.

"No! That's too big too," he said as he came closer to inspect the chargers

"But daddy! There's only 2 chargers here! If it's not either, then where's mine?"

He turned both of the chargers around with his fingers and tried comparing the size with her handphone. It still didn't fit. The way he was looking at the chargers, one would think that he was expecting them to miraculously change into one that would fit her handphone.

She cocked one eyebrow and looked at him.

"Daddy, they really don't fit my handphone."

Finally, seeming to have given up, he released the chargers and looked at her.

"I think mummy took your charger."

"WHAT?! But then, how am I supposed to charge my phone now?" She cried out in shock.

He looked lost for a moment.

Silence settled like a fog.

He looked at her.

She looked at him

"When was the last time you charged your phone?" came the unexpected question from him.

"Erm.. One week ago?"

She smiled apologetically as he gave her the that-explains-it look.

Sheesh!

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"Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me sing what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hands.
In other words, let's be friends."

-Adapted from: Fly me to the moon by Bart Howard-