Y2kk Update: Well, work sure as hell was a royal fucking ass today...

I understand it's about the time that everyone is taking vacation. Problem is, when it comes to my company, it's apparently also the month of goddam crunch-time. We have a major presentation in San Diego to show next week, a 3D graphical convention of some sort where the lucky assholes who were selected to go, get to do whatever the fuck they want in California, provided they periodically man and make comments at the goddam corporate booth. Naturally, I was not one of those few selected to go, not like I could've gone anyhew due to my lack of a goddam passport, but that's besides the point...

The point is that a couple of guys who were working directly on the products being demoed and displayed at the goddam convention just went on vacation this week. And the big fucking kicker was, they left on such bad fucking terms, with such a bad fucking state of affairs. Almost nothing of theirs fucking works at all; it's bugged and plagued like hell to the point where if anyone at the convention asks to try our software without us dictating every single little fucking thing they do, it will just blow to goddam smithereens. Sure, it works under supervised conditions, but I sure as hell don't trust those business folk going to the convention to watch over the shoulders of every single person trying our software (which is already fucking readily available through the net, by the way). Our shit works, sure, but it's far from goddam bullet-proof...

So of course, that's where I come into play. I can't say I was stupendously busy this week or anything, but either way, today was the day I was expecting to go home early nonetheless. Everyone in the office was invited to some sort of summer shindig at a local pub, with free drinks on the corporate house, although I admit I wasn't quite planning on going. Still, I was expecting to take the opportunity to leave fucking early from work and meet up with a friend, only for my goddam manager to call me up into his cubicle right before I left, and told me that I have to finish (or completely redo) all the fucking work that those two fucking wankers left behind before they left for fucking vacation. WTF?...

I asked, "does this mean I have to work the weekend?"...

His response?.. "hopefully not"...

... goddammit, Powell...

Uggh. So instead of leaving at 4 pm like everyone else in the office, I was left there all alone by myself (except for one stupid ass manager looking over my shoulder, making sure I wasn't gonna ditch), working extra hours in order to try to fix all the shit that those two coworkers of mine left behind before this goddam major conference of our company. I don't know if I'll be able to get it all done before the end of tomorrow, and I sure as hell don't want to work the goddam weekend. What choice do I have though? With my potential promotion coming up in a month or less, I can't say no to this kind of shit. If this weekend dictates the difference between the fifty grand I know they're gonna offer me, or the sixty fucking grand (or more, please) that I goddam will demand, then I will sacrifice a fucking three day weekend just for all those fuckers getting to go get laid in San fucking Diego...

Now, I don't know if I really am just pissed at work this week, or if family has something to do with it as well. My only weekend plans so far come from my sister, who invited my brother and I to go golfing with her on Saturday. The thing is, I was expecting that she would treat me at least, considering she had promised to take me golfing for my birthday long ago. It wasn't until I already agreed to tag along this weekend, that it turns out that she won't be paying for me, and that I will have to find my own means of goddam transportation to the place to boot (which is always conveniently near her and nowhere near where I am, of course)...

I mean, I haven't been on the green course all year yet, so of course I wouldn't mind a round or two, even in this sweltering heat wave of ours. It just pisses me off to no end how once again, her idea of a goddam olive branch of a peace offering requires me to get off my ass, drive for a fucking hour in the blinding heat, only to finally get to the executive course where I still have to fucking pay for myself? How the fuck is this supposed to make me excited to meet with her, especially considering she fucking promised that she would take me out to golf for my fucking birthday, yet never really did. How the fuck is this supposed to make me feel? WTF?...

I don't know, maybe I'm just being oversensitive about all this like I do with all the other shit in my life these days. I truly am a childish and immature man, really. I will firmly state with conviction that I am a selfish person to the core, a utilitarian being whether I like it or not. And as a result, I just can't stand being treated like some third tier family member, some second class citizen, or the very last on her fucking goddam check list of "to do's" before she can feel better about herself. Her offer of spending a few hours golfing with me just feels so goddam meaningless when I'm the one who's going to be paying for the fucking gas, I'm the one going to be stuck in traffic for hours, and I'm still the one paying for my goddam golfing fees...

Where's the fucking sense of courtesy? I just hate being fucking chastised this way; her extended offer, it all feels like family politics, that's all...

Like I said though, maybe there really is nothing to get worked up about over here. Being pissed about all this today though, has really made me wonder whether my sister is the real reason why I can't stand that certain somebody at work sometimes. Goddam transference, I'm talking about here. I mean, I just hate being ignored, as embarrassing as that is to say. And I hate being pitied with just throwaway bread-crumbs of thoughts, which is exactly how I feel my sister is treating me throughout this whole goddam situation. As far as I'm concerned, she still owes me for my birthday, yet this is the thanks I get? WTF?...

... oh wait... shit, I forget to get her a present for her goddam birthday...

... err, umm?...

... nevermind then...

Anyhew, next week the girl at work returns back into my life. I really do wonder if anything will be different, whether she will have changed over the course of three weeks, or if I have actually grown to be a better and more patient man, rather than just the bitter pill to swallow that I normally goddam become. I know I will never be more than a friend in her eyes, and as much as it pains me to do so, I guess I have to accept that. Even so, I just wish she would trust me, the way I naively hope that all my friends implicitly do on some level or another...

I am an impatient and petulant man. I live and die by the swing of the pendulum, with a distinct impeccable disdain for goddam social manners and morays. I will never be the right man for her, I know that in all honesty. And I will never be more than just a background faded painting to her, I suppose, even as friends. Or at least, not for a very damn long time, or perhaps even never at all. Trust has to be earned, and that trust can only be garnered through putting forth goddam hard work and time...

... sigh... time after time...

... alas, the hourglass...

... meh, whatever...

The only thing I really do give a shit about right now, is whether I can enjoy my three day fucking Canadian weekend or not.. Because work really was a fucking royal pain in the ass today. I stayed extra hours, yet I still felt bad for leaving the office before the goddam job was done...

And just for the record, not to mention the shits and giggles? I've canceled my goddam vacation time scheduled this month...

... though heh, something tells me, I wouldn't miss these next few weeks in the office for anything in the goddam world...

Afterall, it's been a long time coming...

It's all coming to a head....

I've paid my fucking dues...

... that's three down...

So really, now that it's finally time?...

... what the fuck do I do now?...

Y2kk Update: You know, sometimes work can be such a goddam bitch...

... and sometimes, business can really get to you... and get goddam personal...

I was talking to a friend just recently. Suffice to say, short story short, he's found himself in a goddam predicament where his manager basically tried to shaft him up the ass. My friend was basically being a good man, doing extra favours, and in return he got spat upon from high above, the way you expect the sole of a business shoe to shine and spit. It's discouraging and goddam disappointing, maybe even quite a bit demeaning, true to the word and world. Because that's sadly the world of business for you, where the bottom line often counts more than giving people what they're fucking goddam owed. Afterall, what a person is owed is often or always relative. I suppose, if you don't take advantage of someone first, in this existence it's expected then that you're just the goddam fool...

There was this coworker of mine at work, who a few weeks ago left the job for an internship at Japan. He was a nice guy and all, and a great programmer especially in terms of speed. Too good perhaps, as I probably had a couple discussions with him throughout the year we worked together, how he was just working too damn fast for his own good. Maybe he mis-interpreted my intentions, thinking I was trying to hold him down or prevent myself from looking so bad in comparison, but really I only had his best interests at heart...

He was working at the company for over a year, doing more in a day than I admit I probably do in a week. Problem was, he wasn't getting rewarded for it at all. As soon as he would finish one task, another two would pop up. And what did he get in return for finishing everything as quickly as he could, putting overtime in just to meet some noname manager's demand? He was the worst paid employee in the entire company yet never got a pay increase. He never got a raise, he never got a goddam promotion, and the way they treated him as he was finally leaving the job (for an even more demanding one, mind you) was just downright degrading, if you ask me at least...

So this intern coworker of mine that was leaving for Japan, the country of his dreams where he loves the food, the entertainment, the scenery, the culture, and of course the goddam women (or porn, at least)? The least that the company could have done was give him a good send-off of a lunch, and then maybe finally give him a bit of extra compensation as a thanks for all he's done. And while at least they did supply a single cake as a farewell for him (forcing him into a speech in front of all the employees he's never ever talked to before), the lunch they provided was just downright rude and inconsiderate, no matter which way you slice it...

First of all, I was the one who had to suggest the lunch in the first place, and I was shocked to learn that nobody had been planning one all along. Second, I was sick on the day in question (the day before the lunch, I meant), but apparently nobody tried to figure out where this coworker wanted to go to eat. If they had just asked me what kind of food he liked, we would've settled on Japanese or Vietnamese or some shit like that. But instead, management opted to go to the one place they themselves wanted to eat, some shit ass pub where my coworker and I couldn't stand the shit ass food. Even worse than that, all the top brass came along to give that coworker a hardy send-off, which I suppose could be construed as a kind gesture, if only it didn't prevent all of us lower echelon workers from saying anything open about the company that we really goddam felt. WTF?...

Suffice to say, it was awkward. And even more mind-boggling, was the fact that despite this coworker of mine leaving for a fucking job in Japan, that my company actually asked him (after cornering him alone where I could not put in my two cents) to keep working for them still on weekends while in Japan. WTF?...

What's even more mind-blowing, was that before even thinking about it, before consulting the rest of us coworkers, or even without asking to have some time to think it through, this fucking colleague of mine just replied, "yes", to them? WTF?...

He just keeps taking it up and up the ass, over and over again from this goddam company, even weeks after he's officially left for the rest of his goddam life. Working so hard, finishing shit twice as fast as any other employee in the company, did nothing for him but make him their goddam pet of a slave. They worked him to the bone; they saw weakness and pure gullibility, and still abuse his generousity and work ethic to this very day by getting him to do weekend shit while getting paid piddly sums in fucking goddam Japan of all places. What, they didn't feel it would be at least somewhat courteous to let the man have a clean conscience on his mind as he explores the temples and technology of the country he loves in his own free time? Instead, they knew he was so weak willed and minded that they cornered and conned him into staying their goddam yes-man of a puppet, for even less money here than he was making before? WTF?...

... whatever... if my coworker wants to keep taking is up the fucking ass, that's his choice in life...

... doesn't mean I can't be disgusted with the actions of my own managers though, of course...

I don't know. Technically, I'm being somewhat abused myself. I'm making a lot less money than almost all of my other coworkers are, although that was for good reason (entry level, right out of university). Now I see that I'm doing about twice as much work in the office as some employees who have twice my salary, and come my annual review at the end of August, I will be demanding that I get my fucking just desserts. However I perceive my rewards versus how my company views my performance, I guess that's all a story for another fucking day...

Just as a final sidenote, of course I can't leave without mentioning at least a little something about that certain someone at work. I don't know why it's been bothering me all fucking week long now, but it somehow haunts me that she hasn't told me exactly how much money she's making at the company. I knew it's a lot more than I'm earning; it's a sizable sum, to be sure, and somewhat unfair considering she and I both came into this company with the same amount of education and real work experience (one year or so, under our belts). Difference in situations and methods of entry into the company, I know. But still, that's not the point that kinda hurts...

I know she doesn't have to tell me how much she makes (even when I sort of asked), simply because arguably it's none of my business, or maybe she simply doesn't want to make me feel jealous. It was petty and nosy and intrusive of me to inquire, I know. But even so, I still long as friends that she would show some sort of real and open honesty for once. Good or false or null intentions, this is just yet another one of those scenarios where I wish she gave enough of a shit about me to actually believe this kind of stuff to be my business. Considering she knows exactly my pay, as I have no qualms about revealing to her my salary, her own silence just shows a level of mistrust and goddam disrespect between the both of us, you know? Just disheartening as all things in life, really...

... then again... I've yet to give her a real reason to trust me, now have I?...

Heh... the other week, the day before she left on vacation actually, I said to her something that for some damn reason I regret. It's the weirdest and dumbest thing really, how I told her that "I can be a tad bit eccentric at times". Which to me is true, at least thinking back about how I was in high school compared to what was perceived as "normal", whatever the fuck that means. But I don't know, the way she stared at me after I said that to her, as if I were a complete blathering fool of an idiot? Just one glancing blow, just one fucking slap to the face from her, and I felt ashamed. From that one damn look she gave me, I suddenly just knew that almost all her goddam friends were far more eccentric already than I could ever be, and she was basically scoffing me off with thoughts and notions of goddam preposterousness...

She was practically rolling her eyes and condescending her head, goddammit. I said something ridiculous in her eyes, and even though she technically uttered nothing rude about it, somehow I got the message. Somehow, I just got this chilling impression from her like she found me to be some goddam moron who didn't know what he was talking about then and there. I don't know why I feel this way about this whole split-second situation, whether it's a self-confidence and esteem issue or whatnot, but the sensation sure felt and still feels real. I felt like a complete dunce of a dumbass for a throwaway comment that logically was completely meaningless, irrelevant and not even worth mentioning ever again. Yet the fact that I said it, and the sight of her basically shaking her head in disgust, just won't ever fucking leave the forefront of my goddam mind it seems. Why can't I just shrug and laugh it all off? WTF?...

... yeah, well... anyhew, it's getting late... and that's enough whining and grating for one night, me thinks...

Either way, it just still pisses me off how these small companies (or any company, really) just keep trying to take goddam advantage of my friends and coworkers. Whether it be the way of the world or whatnot, it still just gets to me sometimes. Sometimes, it feels personal. That intern who left for Japan, namely, and my friend who was disrespected like hell this week...

Fuck, that's two down...

... one left to go...

Y2kk Update: I finally saw Ratatouille last night...

... all alone... by myself...

And truth be told, I went into the theatre not expecting much, but came away more than just goddam impressed. The film just had that sort of innocent charm to it, that puts an irresistible smile on my face like only Pixar can. I can't say that this movie was quite in the league of either Finding Nemo or The Incredibles, but it definitely stands as my favourite film of the year so far, and definitely one of those few works of motion art that I will cherish for years and years to come...

The only irony was, I enjoyed the film so damn much?... that I couldn't help but feel miserable...

... all alone... by myself...

Suffice to say, I'm still hurting inside from what the girl at work did to me. Now, technically you can argue she didn't do a single harmful thing to me whatsoever; you can argue that, but I simply wouldn't believe it, at least. The fact still stands though, that while I was not 100% concrete in our plans (since I didn't want to make the decision for her), I did ask her two weeks before she left on vacation whether we could see Ratatouille together. She explained that she wanted to do something that I'd enjoy too, not just something she wanted to do herself, since "(she) has more fun if (I'm) having fun". That's what she told me, and I simply replied that I did want to see Ratatouille, especially since I knew she really wanted to watch it too. And why would I not? Even if I was disinterested at all its advertising, it's fucking Pixar for Christ's sakes...

But she saw the film over the following weekend with some other friend instead, without telling me in advance mind you. And yeah, I was disappointed as hell the Monday aftter when she just casually mentioned to me that she just saw the film, even though I had asked before if I could goddam accompany her. And what I was left from her instead were goddam table scraps, of being invited on her pointless journey to goddam Best fucking Buy. I felt worthless when she said that, meager and vulgar in the pits of my gut. I felt like she was pitying yet patronizing me at the same fucking time, refusing to be honest enough to just tell me that she didn't give two shits about going out with me that fucking night...

She had said to me that she has more fun if I'm having fun, yet the only thing she offered to do was drag me along to Best fucking Buy. How the fuck am I supposed to take that? Especially after I had asked her the week before if we could both see Ratatouille, and then she suddenly just spites me out of nowhere by going out with a friend the night before? What the fuck was this, just rude inconsideration or her own form of goddam punishment? Fuck, for some goddam reason, I just couldn't help but be reminded of all this as I fell in love with the film...

... all alone, by myself... what a sentimental fool I really am...

I keep wondering to myself whether things will change after she returns on vacation. There was a time when I swore she had interest in me. She would glance in my direction and then quickly turn away the moment I noticed her staring at me. There were those times before when she would say something wrong to me, something that would hurt my feelings, but she would instantly make it up by being as kind and caring as she could possibly be. There were times before when she would laugh at my dumbest jokes and compliment me on the most insignificant of things. Aren't these supposed to be signals, are these supposed to be signs, or is she simply some sort of goddam perpetual flirt? How the fuck can I really be certain?...

Things just haven't been right between the both of us for quite some time now, starting from well before I got laughed in the face by telling her how I feel. The fact of the matter is, I've fallen for her and fallen for her hard, enough so that I still miss her when she's on vacation, even when there's really goddam nothing between the both of us. And it definitely seems to me that ever since I did admit how I felt to her, that she's been treating me worse than before, almost as if I was destined to be nothing more than a pawn in her back-pocket. Maybe she finally knew she had control over me, and that's all she really wanted. Really, how can I tell?...

I know I became a bit more cold to her after she fucking laughed in my face, and maybe that's why she's been more bitter and spiteful to me ever since. But really, can I be blamed for this? Am I really being unreasonable here? Or am I just experiencing the real her in full goddam technicolour? She treats me like a passing fancy of an interest, even after I opened my heart and told her the truth. WTF?...

To be honest, as stereotypical as this may be, it's always odd for me to meet a Chinese girl who is not in some sort of fling or relationship. Either the girl has a boyfriend followed by a hundred or so suitors, all lined up straight in some sort of queue of pursuit, or the woman is single but occupied by her hundred or so "guy-friends" who provide her with pretty much every single emotional need filled by a goddam relationship. If anything, this girl at work falls into the latter quality, for better or for worse. With more than fifty fucking guys at her begging whim and disposal, at least half of which I'm sure have had at least some sort of feelings towards her, she doesn't fucking need me. Simply fucking put, she just doesn't need me, as she has all the fucking yes-men in the world to make her feel right without me...

Really, honestly then, what is the true measure of a man? What worth am I, seriously?...

And how the fuck could I ever expect things to change? I admit, I do care enough for her to perhaps take the plunge, going all out and risking everything to see if she really does care for me under that rough and shielded exterior of hers. But then again, I already went as far as I could, telling her how I felt, only to get fucking laughed in the face as a goddam result. I was fucking mocked by the woman I've fallen for at work, my fucking God, and what a fucking sad sob story that has become...

If this was at school or some shit like that, I'm sure I would've just ran away from this girl right soon after her put-down to beat down all other goddam friend zone speeches. But alas, we're coworkers, we're fucking coworkers, and I just can't treat her any more cruelly as I have as a goddam moral friend as well. Whether I like it or not, I do still have feelings for her, and I just can't ascertain whether it's a good thing then or not that my shared office space with her is forcing me to stay by her goddam side...

She embarrassed me; she put me to shame. I still can't forget what she did to me, of how she reacted. But thanks to my goddam predicament, of how she and I have to still work together closely, I just can't run away. And a large part of me doesn't want to retreat either; she still gives me hope, a false hope I know, as feeble of a feeling as that may be. I don't know whether this is all right or wrong, good or bad, or even workable in the long haul. I just know that I really have no choice in this matter, but to stay her friend and keep feeling the same damn way as I do today...

Fuck, she's not even around, and hasn't been for over a week. Yet she's still making me feel miserable, so goddam cold...

... here, alone... all by myself...

God, I wish I could've seen Ratatouille with her. I loved that film without her, and I would've loved it even more if she was simply there to laugh with me at all the innocent joys and charm...

I had asked her, I had asked her if she wanted to go as our last night out together before she left for vacation. I knew she wanted to see the film so badly, both as a Pixar fan and as a chef savant. And I wanted to see the film myself, so much more so with her by my side, if only to give us some sort of shared experience that could somehow rekindle the lost kind of friendship and bond we had once before...

But I guess my expectations had been set just too high. She disregarded my offer and shrugged it all off like it meant nothing, or nothing compared to what she has with her other friend I suppose. Was it really just too much to ask, to request her friend to wait two fucking days to see the film with us? Was it really too much to ask to do anything with me, anything at all, that we both could've shared together?...

I keep thinking to myself, when she returns, will anything change? Will anything fucking goddam change?...

I keep hoping it will... I keep hoping and wishing, at least to myself...

But if anything, Ratatouille reminded me, that the only way I ever seem to find any sort of happiness?...

... is by walking in with absolutely no expectations...

... alone...

Y2kk Update: Great, just great. Work has been a pile of shit this week...

But what else did I expect, right? What else is new in my goddam life?...

'Cause I guess, the more important question is, what the fuck do I do now?...

... the same old answers to the same old questions, it seems...

Nothing went right for me at work this week. Monday I came into the office not feeling well, and I really don't know why. I was sick about a month ago with this sort of goddam plague, gnawing at my gut and splitting at my spleen. Caused me to piss a torrent out of my dick, day in and restless night out, and sure as hell got me pissed at a hell of a lot of people in my life at the same damn time. But I thought it was all over, I thought that I would finally get better, yet periodically throughout this past week or so, I've been feeling the same damn illness crap crop it's ugly ass head right back up. I have no idea why I was sick to the stomach all over again on Monday afternoon, but I just somehow was. WTF?...

Tuesday was absolutely no better, at least in terms of overall shittiness. At work, my team captained a meeting with the designers, or so my team member and I thought. Problem was, we didn't realize that when we assigned a meeting invite to the "design team", that apparently it would include that same damn business manager who wouldn't take no for an answer when I was fucking sick to the bone two weeks ago. My coworker and I thought we'd be chairing the meeting, dictating its direction, yet as soon as this business manager of ours arrived, it went straight downhill from there...

There was absolutely no flow and no order in the goddam meeting whatsoever; it became total chaos and disarray, with everyone basically spouting out a bunch of unreasonable shit of how things should be done. My team and I had wanted this meeting to get some feedback to improve the designs we could and would implement in the next month or so, but of course our inquiries fell on deaf and deathly ears since obviously the designers and that business manager had their own ideas of how it should completely be redone. With no idea of how hard or long it would take to implement for us, mind you, which also was the reason why the half turned two hour meeting was more than a fucking pain in the ass for me...

After finally setting myself free of that bullshit, I got a bunch of complaints from the head programmers in the office, how apparently I was causing a memory leak in one of the applications by having an event that leads to a null function. Granted, while that's never a good thing though I never once suspected that it would cause a goddam memory leak (shouldn't they just fix the leak instead?), it wasn't really my fault that the problem was there in the first place. I should've kept in mind that it was my fault at least that I didn't report this officially through a bug long ago, but since I certainly was still fucking pissed from that meeting a few moments ago, I wrote a "reply all" e-mail back outlining that it was someone else's code that led to this deficiency. I just forgot at the same time to check who was on the CC list, that's all...

So of course, after coming back from lunch, what else did I have in my inbox but a bunch of fucking hate mail back, though partially for good reason. I was blamed (with the head programmers all cc'ed) for not logging the bug for him long ago, which I do unfortunately concede is true, and then I was openly blasted for goddam finger pointing in his direction. I felt bad about it of course, considering my head was finally clearing up after returning from lunch, and in my guilt I sort of wrote a pseudo-apologetic letter back. I've been told never to apologize to anyone in the office for shit, by both workers from my old job and my current one, but meh, I'm such a goddam sap that I still couldn't resist. Whatever...

Wednesday and Thursday weren't much better for me. There's a coworker in the office who's new and sort of my friend now, but he's been struggling a bit with the absolute shittiness of the design of all the code that he's been forced to build upon. Not that I blame him one fucking bit; it took me three months of intern time to get familiar with how shitty ass all the programming really is in my office, and he's only had a third of that length to get accustomed...

The thing is though, what sucked on Wednesday was that thanks to a looming deadline for this new guy, management actually came to me to "steward" him into the right fucking path. While I appreciate the fact that they were polite enough about it to me, it also annoys me to death knowing that they didn't have the guts or courtesy to basically tell him to his face that he needs to step up the pace. Why go through me, and basically shoo-horn myself as well into doing both my current work and some of my coworker's project as the same damn time? Why didn't they just put me on this most important fucking project in the company in the first place instead of the fucking new guy? WTF?...

I just don't like back-stabbing, especially if I'm the one who might be the one to do it. If deadlines aren't met, people might get fired to be made an example of, so obviously I had to help out this guy. On the other hand, I'm afraid that management might assume that since my coworker has achieved more in the past couple of days than perhaps the past month combined, that it might look like I did the work for him (when in reality, I just debugged a bit to point things out about the existing base code he's building upon). I certainly don't want to make him look bad, but at the same time, I need to help him look good to management since he's still on fucking probation. I don't like being caught between a rock and a hard place, but what else can I expect if soon I do get promoted to being an intermediate developer? Along with the extra money comes a heck of a lot more restless nights with goddam guilty gears of conscience...

I don't know, I suppose in retrospect this past week hasn't been that damn fucking bad. It's just that, I've been so fucking bored in the office at the same fucking time, and it's killing me inside softly to admit the goddam reason why...

... sigh... I fucking miss her... bleh...

She and I would always talk on IM throughout the day, except those where obviously I turn out pissy at her or the afternoons where she randomly decides to refuse to talk to me for whatever goddam reasons she has. Yet even those days where I come into the office hating her, I still miss those moments of just completely goddam ignoring each other. She brings fucking meaning into my menial and mundane life, you know? Even if it's through malice, she gives me a fucking reason to actually show up at work and witness what the fuck she does...

I'm sort of lost without her at work, as sad as that is to say. It's not that I haven't been doing my job or anything, but it's just that, it feels so aimless and pointless without. In essence, this was my life before I met her and fell for her goddam smile, the kind of floating point integer of an existence that leads nowhere but a goddam numeric paycheck. When she was in the office though, whether I was by her side that is or swearing I'd never speak with her again, there was a reason to wake up in the morning, just to see the kind of respect she'd treat me with that day. I don't know why I give such a goddam damn about a woman who more or often than not treats me like pure goddam shit (or worse yet, just like any other random coworker). She just has that kind of wranglement of an entanglement over me, whatever kind of quantum flux of a strangle-hold that may be...

I won't say it has become one of my great regrets in life, telling her how I felt only to get laughed back in the face, but it definitely has become one of life's greatest embarrassments. I keep thinking back to the two emo-mails I sent her, telling her she's a "good person" and that I had something to get off my chest, if only so I wouldn't have a reason to get pissed at her all the time any longer. Embarrassed because, first of all, a "good person"? WTF is that kind of emo shit? And second, telling her how I felt about her only made things worse, or ironically enough, identical to the shitty ass way things were before...

She still ignores me and treats me as nothing more than invisible commonfolk most of the time, and I still get angry and frustrated at her about all that shit, going so far as to completely bloody ignore her on days when she treats me like I'm a complete goddam waste of her time. So really, besides the mental anguish of her mocking my feelings for her, what was actually achieved by telling her how I felt? She still treats me like ignorant shit, and I still return the bloody damn favour. The only difference now is that I have a new memory leak in my mind to shake my head and goddam fist at the sky in goddam self-pity, rather than constantly still wonder whether she actually feels the same damn way for me or not. Hell, come to think of it, I still keep pondering over the goddam latter...

WTF is wrong with me? Can't I take a message? Apparently not...

I will say one thing, and that simply is, to me she feels unique. We share so many of the same enjoyments in life, so many of the same geeky passions, and we even have similar speech patterns and goddam mannerisms. Except for the fact that she's a food savant and I'm still obsessed with goddam Western television shows, and besides her opinions of goddam other people, we're almost like twin iso images of one another; seems to me as if she were my better half...

She's an adorable little geek who you two readers can blatantly tell I can't stop thinking about, even one week into her goddam vacation, a full fucking month after she fucking laughed in my face even. She just somehow feels distinct to me, in every fucking sense and scent of the word, yet I know in my heart that I'm for sure not the only man (and possibly woman...) to have thought this way of her before. I'm sure she has an entire fucking football stadium lined up of suitors, and I really have nothing to distinguish myself but my own damn self-deprecation. How degrading. Fuck, I don't even own a suit...

... and more than that, I don't want to compete...

I just don't see the point in a competition, to fight for the right to earn her fair and fragrant hand, if love is supposed to be real and true and felt, that is...

... plus, I'm really that damn fucking lazy and cheapass, don't you know...

But goddammit, against my better judgment, against my better half, I find myself still fucking missing her at work. WTF is wrong with me?...

... I feel lost in translation, in a fucking blue lagoon or some shit like that, whatever the hell that means...

What happens if she leaves this office for good? What then? What the fuck do I do then?...

... sigh... nothing has gone right for me all fucking week long...

Though at least, that's one down...

... two fucking left to go...

Y2kk Update: Three weeks...

... three bloody hell weeks alone... all by myself...

... without her, that is...

To discover what's real... to figure out what's false...

... to find out just where we stand...

The girl at work, she's now on vacation. The next time I'll see her is the second week of August, which from my current vantage point, is a long time coming. It's almost a full month without talking to her, but definitely not three weeks of never thinking once of her smile, or about anything between the both of us. Now, I guess it's just wishful thinking that she would spend even a fraction of those three weeks of her own to think things through about me. But no matter whether she's around or not, no matter whether I hear her voice or see her face, I guarantee that she will be the focus of my thoughts nonetheless. Some things just never change...

Last week, I actually invited her out to do something after work the week before she leaves on vacation. The key part being there, it was I who asked her out this time, not the other way around. I haven't done that in over a month now, not to mention the fact that I've turned down all her lunch and dinner offers for the past four weeks as well. And I extended my invitation half out of courtesy, simply because she is leaving on vacation, but also because quite honestly, I have missed her. I'm not saying that every moment shared between us is golden, as we're still not on a close enough level to even be alright with each other during those awkward silences. But every time we've gone out in the past, we've talked about one thing or another that has meant something to at least one of us, and we've had a hell of a lot of conversations that I thought were damn enjoyable for the both of us as well. I've missed these things as much as I've missed just being around her, as goddam pussy-whipped as that is to admit...

So I asked her out. And unfortunately, my expectations were just a tad bit lofty for their own damn good, no matter how low I tried to set them in the first place. I mean, originally I had turned down her offer a couple weeks back to see Ratatouille on opening day, so I offered to go to the movies with her here and now since I knew she still hadn't seen the film. Problem was, I made my offer last Friday, only for her to go watch the film over the weekend with some other friend of hers. That was fine though, right? As much as I wanted to make up for turning her down before, it was still good that she finally got to enjoy the film she wanted to see. So I simply changed my stance and asked her out to something else, mentioning dinner or some other movie like Transformers if she was still in the mood on Monday. And at the time, setting the date to go out together as Tuesday night, she agreed...

The morning finally came around, and first thing right when I arrived, she happily asked if I still wanted to do something with her later that day. Wow, can't believe she actually remembered; what a start, right? Of course then I agreed; afterall, I was the one who invited her out in the first place, hoping to see Ratatouille with her or some shit like that. And from our conversations the day before, I expected her to simply want to go out for ice cream or dinner or maybe a film like Transformers, which she knew I really wanted to see at the time. I knew she was tired, and I knew she was gearing up for her vacation, so I didn't expect the world or anything. I just didn't brace myself for what her actual desire for the goddam day turned out to be...

"I feel like going to Best Buy. Did you want to come along?"...

... err... umm... wait - what?...

I mean, don't get me wrong. In most circumstances, I wouldn't mind just tagging along with a friend to Best Buy and see what they have in stock. Shopping for electronics is fun for me, and as I stated before, I enjoy just walking alongside the girl at work almost every single time I do. We have good conversations, whether serious or juvenile or otherwise, and normally any company with her is well worth the time spent...

But seriously, Best Buy? Best fucking Buy as our shared activity the week before she fucking leaves on vacation? Wasn't I the one who invited her out, and I did it all in a much more formal way than just "hey, what are you doing; can I tag along?" Didn't her friend on the weekend get dinner and Ratatouille with her? Didn't her friend the week before that get to cook mango salsa and a whole lot of other shit, something that was also planned well ahead of time? Didn't her buddy the week earlier get the full fucking Monty Python with Opera and dinner and all the other date shit like that? Yet even though I did offer to see a film like Ratatouille or later Transformers, and even though I did mention stuff like ice cream and dinner on Monday afternoon, she still comes to me that Tuesday morning and claims that the only thing she wants to do is go to Best fucking Buy? WTF?...

I don't know, is it just me, or is something there just a tad bit... I dunno... ignorant and offensive?...

Demeaning and demoralizing, really. Now sure, Best Buy is not a bad place to go just for a visit, but honestly, as the last place the two of us frequent before she ships off for three fucking weeks? I dunno, but to me, after she mentioned what she wanted to do together (and it didn't sound like there was much of an option to change), it all just felt so meager and meaningless to me, that's all. As if she completely disregarded the fact that I was the one who invited her out to something relatively nice before leaving on vacation. Our time together was now reduced to her doing whatever chores or errands she wanted to get out of the fucking way before leaving, with me just following her around without any sort of real focus or purpose whatsoever...

... I felt like she was jerking my chain, knowing full well that I had feelings for her, expecting me to be her goddam lap-dog or some shit like that...

... or that she was trying to get rid of me, really... that I was a chore of an errand myself, of going out together, that is...

I mean, yes, it did occur to me at one point or another that perhaps I could take this all in some other context. If a close friend of mine asked if I wanted to go to Best Buy, and if I was bored enough, I wouldn't hesitate to go just to browse and talk about shit. Maybe this was all some sign from her that we are getting somewhat close, I dunno. I really doubt it though, considering she never ever talks to me on weekends, still hasn't given me her phone number, and still hasn't fucking responded to all those e-mails I've written to her for the past fucking month. Pretty goddam revealing and telling, if I do say so myself...

The thing is, the day I invited her out for the first fucking time in over a month, was not meant to be an "I'm bored; feel like following me around?" kind of day. It was meant to be at least somewhat special, even amongst two friends, simply because she was leaving on fucking vacation. Plus, obviously, she knows how I feel about her, and she just completely disrespected my feelings. We had even fucking talked about going to the movies or to dinner and shit like that the day before, yet the very morning after, she just walks in with a carefree, callous and wily grin on her face, and tells me the only thing she's interested in doing is going to Best fucking Buy? How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that? WTF?...

So yeah, I took it as an insult, I honestly did. I just felt so disrespected there, like I really meant nothing compared to the rest of her friends. I felt like she was teasing me, or testing me really, seeing how desperate I was to just get out after work with her by my side. Or I by her fucking side as a goddam escort, so to speak. Though for all I know, this was just her own form of fucking payback for all those times I've turned her down for lunch and dinner the month before. I don't know really; I just know that I was hurt, and really fucking upset at her, that's all...

So yeah, what the fuck else could I do but turn her offer down? At the end of the day, just minutes before she was getting set to leave, after more than eight hours of hoping she would suggest something else than Best fucking Buy (even after I asked her several times whether she was sure that's what she wanted to do), I turned her goddam offer down and chose to just go home alone. I had my honour and pride to save, and I wasn't going to screw myself over by just doing whatever the fuck she wanted me to do, even though that's what I did originally offer to her. I mean seriously, I was at least expecting she'd pick something that wasn't so selfish and self-centered, something that we had talked about the day and week before that we could share together, but I guess I thought wrong. And I was bloody hell hurt about it when it was all said and done, especially after she left work with barely a word, that's the truth...

The next day, I was still so consumed by her callousness that I couldn't help but confront her about all this shit the first chance I got. I did my best to be polite; I certainly hope I came off that way, but I guess I will never truly know. I asked her if she actually wanted to do anything with me that Tuesday; of course, she replied she did. I then inquired, why then Best Buy? Why did she choose an activity for the both of us that basically just constituted me following her around as she ran off doing some errands of her own? I simply and honestly asked her with a far too open heart, "didn't you think that would hurt my feelings?"...

... yeah, I know... I let her win, basically...

... I knew that admitting that she hurt me was essentially letting her win, but her offer the day before was just so insulting, that I couldn't help but give in...

And her response? She claimed that never once thought that asking me out to Best fucking Buy was rude, although she admitted she could "see why I felt that way". I replied to her, that perhaps on any other week, I wouldn't have minded. It's just that, I was the one who invited her out and we had already talked about going to dinner and perhaps a movie as our night together before she left on vacation. This would be the last chance for a long time to spend with each other doing something we both enjoy, yet she chose an errand that she normally would just do by herself? It honestly felt like I wasn't wanted or needed there. I honestly felt like the odd man out, except as the meaningless nobody following her about. It honestly did feel like she was trying to get rid of me, in which in turn, I would've just preferred some goddam honesty...

Of course, she just laughed me off, feigning ignorance or some shit like that. She kept claiming that she finds "going to Best Buy fun", and never once thought I would think otherwise. Obviously, I don't believe her for a second that she never once imagined that asking me to follow her around the city like a puppy would be demeaning and derogatory or some shit like that. She's not that dumb of a girl, no matter how fucking "air-headed" she claimed she really was...

Now sure, I admit that it's always possible that she was telling the truth, but the facts in my head just don't add up. I just don't see why else she would change from a dinner and a movie to an urge about Best fucking Buy in just one night, unless she either wanted to get rid of me or lusted for revenge for all those times I might have hurt her. She certainly didn't seem surprised when I turned down her offer that Tuesday afternoon; it was almost as if she was expecting it, to be honest, although it might have hurt her more than she thought it would. I don't know if she actually wanted me to tag along as she checked out fucking MP3 players at Best fucking Buy, and I guess I will never really know the truth. All I do know, is that I don't believe her, I don't believe what she told me the Wednesday after, and that says enough about her and our so-called relationship right fucking there...

The whole scenario honestly felt to me as if she was too damn tired to go out with me, probably from packing shit for the trip and from going out with friends on the weekend, as if she honestly didn't want to go out to anything like a dinner or a movie with me. I can understand that, in which case I even asked a couple times Tuesday morning whether she was too exhausted to enjoy the night. But instead, she said nothing, continuing on and on how going to Best Buy was what she really wanted to do. I honestly felt like I was being tested in one aspect, but in another retrospect, it also felt like she was handing me a goddam pittance. She didn't want to go out with me, considering I'm not one of her close friends, but also didn't want to turn down my only offer out for the entire fucking month, so she served me a fucking piece of shit as a compromise...

... suffice to say, I was not happy with what I was goddam given...

I mean seriously, there are three main things in this world that I simply cannot stand...

... one is pity...

... the other is pretense...

And what's the third?... well, umm?...

... presumptions, actually...

... which I have made more than my own fair share of in this very goddam update, might I add...

She could have been telling the truth to me, I will never know. But I just can't shake the gut feeling that either she was sticking it to me, or she was just trying to be goddam polite in her own fucking backstabbing way. Which is yet another one of those qualities I can barely tolerate; politeness and piousness, since they often go hand in hand with pity and pretense, most of the time. Then again, I am the one being the goddam preacher of a petulant fool here, thinking that I know her better than I fucking know myself. The only thing I know that is real here, is that my own feelings were goddam hurt much more than they have been since she laughed in my face, and she definitely scarred my pride with her words, I can fucking tell you that. For the first time in a month, I truly opened myself back up to her, only to get slashed and wounded yet again...

I really can't keep taking this shit from her, I really fucking can't...

... and that sadly, is the sorry truth of the state of my mind...

The rest of the week was relatively quiet between the both of us, until Friday came about, the very last day before she would finally embark on her three week vacation. I did my best to be polite with pretense the whole five days through, but as always, my fragile ego often gets in the goddam way...

On Friday morning, I forget why exactly we got onto the topic of governments and racial slavery and fucking useless Canadian military spending, but I do remember getting irritated at one point or another with her. It had been a long week, and while I had forgiven her for the Best fucking Buy shit on Tuesday, it's hard to forget the sensation that she had lied through the teeth to me about it all the next fucking day after. So when she started drilling me about a certain eccentric professor that we both apparently shared in university, I kinda lost my cool a bit...

Now this professor of ours, he was an asshole in class, if I do say so myself. Outside of the lecture room, he was a cool guy in some aspects, but truly a self-absorbed fellow as well. He was only about his own research, and was definitely one of those teachers who wished he never had to teach. I can understand that, and maybe even relate to it. It's just that, unlike most other professors I had in engineering, he didn't leave his own pride and ego outside of the classroom, but rather integrated it as the main topic of all his lectures. Fuck, his first week of teaching in the class I had with him, consisted of bringing all us students to his fucking own house downtown and checking out all the goddam inventions he was working on at the time. Sad thing is, according to my other friends, this was the kind of shit he also quizzed us on in his goddam exams. So considering I barely attended class at all and thus wouldn't hear about any of his own goddam fucking research preaching shit, I bailed out on that teacher as soon as I could...

But the girl at work? She had a different take on this professor. She actually liked him, thought he was interesting, and believed she really learned a lot from his class. Which is fine, of course, as everyone is entitled to their own opinion. The guy was certainly quirky by engineering standards, but certainly not so much by what she was used to in arts and sciences. It's just that, I was already irritated that morning from the goddam Best Buy shit earlier in the week, and she kept fucking drilling me about my opinion about this professor guy non-stop at our stand-up meeting. Now, I can understand that she was curious about how I view and handle 'eccentric' people, but really, I got the distinct impression like she was testing me again. She knew that all her own friends were interesting, "eccentric" people themselves (that asshole who kept shutting me up the time we went out included), and I could feel that she wanted to truly see what I thought of her and them myself...

... so after it was all said and finally done, her own goddam interrogation of me that is, I decided to start a little inquisition of my own...

I started off on a good note with her, apologizing for kinda losing my cool in that conversation. After she just shrugged that off, claiming it was no big deal, that's when I popped the question, why did she want to know how I felt about this professor guy so fucking much in the first place? And her response was actually honest for once, and was truth be told, exactly what I was expecting. She claimed that finding out my opinion of him and of his eccentric behaviour, was a good indicator of "how I think and how I perceive other people". Namely, how I really think of her and her fucking friends, though she wasn't that honest and fucking poignant about it, of course. But finally, at least, she admitted the fucking truth I've known for so fucking long...

... that she isn't as fucking retarded and goddam "air-headed" as she claimed she was before...

Or maybe she was faking it? Feigning non-ignorance, telling me what I wanted to hear?...

... wait, can you even feign non-ignorance?... 'cause if she was lying, she still definitely wasn't as clueless as she claimed she was before...

Here was a prime example of her actually having the psychological and social smarts to use my irritation to her own intuitive advantage, figuring out the truth that yes, I do basically find the personalities of her friends to be goddam annoying as fuck. I lost my cool, my honesty came out, and she took advantage of it, fully knowing the implications and repercussions of it all. And I respect that; I respect when I've been outsmarted and goddam beguilded...

So the question is, if she honestly was intelligent enough to test me in this sort of manner...

... then how in the blue fuck could she possibly believe that I'd want to follow her ass to Best fucking Buy?...

As far as I'm concerned, while I let the truth slip out about my teacher pet peeves on Friday, it was more than well worth it, considering she basically gave me confirmation afterwards that she is not the complete bumbling idiot like she claims, and that she must've been lying to my face about this Best fucking Buy shit on Wednesday morning. In my honest opinion, there is just no fucking way that she was actually telling the truth, when she claimed it never crossed her mind that her shit the day before would hurt my feelings and make me feel left out. Not after she admitted herself on Friday, that even something as simple as an opinion of a prof is enough to deduce just how the thoughts of a person really flow and tick...

... like a time-piece... or a watch...

So, really, where does that leave us? The two of us, and the best of both worlds. Where do we stand?...

I don't know. I honestly don't know. All I do know, is that after I felt she finally told the truth to me on Friday? I was for the first time alright with her, I honestly was...

She didn't pity me there, and she didn't show pretense. Or at least, I doubt she did. So I had no need to make more presumptions about her, about her politeness and her goddam piousness; about what was real and what was fake. And for some damn reason, even though I lost my cool that Friday morning, her honesty honestly helped mend my pride. So yeah, suddenly I was cool with her, and somehow all was forgiven...

I went out with her later that night. Not to much, just something small like getting a cookie and ice cream and shit like that. We ended off on a decent note, with me listening to her work woes and vacation plans for the next three weeks of ponderings, and with the two of us sharing a friendly little hug as expected before she departed for her train. I still can't forget the fact that I truly do believe she lied to my face on Wednesday about the whole Best fucking Buy fiasco, and I will never be able to truly forget the moment when she mocked and laughed in my face all those weeks ago. But for the time being, for the sheer second we shared just in each other's arms as friends, we were cool with one another. I really felt we were...

It felt like a hell of a lot more than just a second to me, to be honest...

Even as friends, meaningless as it was, the second felt like it lasted for so long...

... and now she's gone...

For three weeks...

... three bloody hell weeks...

To find out where we stand...

... to find out where we fell...

To rediscover what's real and what's false...

... to figure out just who I am, both with and without her, just once more...

But the thing is, three weeks?...

Three bloody hell weeks of being alone?...

... fuck, I missed her before... when she was still around...

How will I feel now?...

... how will I truly feel without her?...

Or more important than that, three fucking weeks?...

Three fucking weeks is a long fucking time...

... what the fuck am I going to do now?...

Fuck, might as well just go to Best fucking Buy out of boredom...

... it'll be fun... sure, it'll be fun...

Three weeks... three bloody hell weeks without her?...

... what the fuck am I going to write?...

Y2kk Update: God, I make my life out to be such a goddam soap-opera...

... or a goddam over-pretentious, melodramatic anime, really...

I just spent my lazy Sunday afternoon re-watching Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. God, I love that film. Such a damn good movie; it's simply as a irresistible as the hair on Will Farrell's goddam chest...

"I'm... Ron Burgundy?"...

The odd thing is, I never really noticed how deep of a film Anchorman really is on so many levels. And no, I'm not shitting you...

His thoughts were my thoughts. It's like he was just some wise, hairy Buddha crawling in and out of my mind or some shit like that...

Because how the fuck could I not relate? His tale was that of a woman he falls in love with at work. He loses everything he has and is because of her, yet chooses in the end to just screw himself over since he'd rather be fucking her in pleasure panda land instead...

"It's Anchor-MAN, not Anchor-LADY!"...

And sadly? Yes, a film such as this actually put some things into proper perspective for me. I've been wallowing in self-pity and drowning myself in sorrow over this girl at work, and why exactly? I claim it's because she doesn't want me, that once again it's a one-way romance that will lead nowhere but to the crushing defeat of my heart. And let's face facts, even after a month now of trying to extort and exorcise her from my thoughts and feelings, I still deeply care for her much more than I ever should, especially as a coworker. I keep telling myself, it's hard to be her friend, simply because I want so much more from her than she simply can ever give me...

But this week, with my sickness finally almost over with, I've at last been able to think a lot clearer in the head. And as a result? I've felt something that I knew I'd feel, just not nearly as strong as it's been beating in my heart this week...

"By the beard of Zeus"...

... sigh... I kinda miss her...

I mean, she's still really just there, standing there before me every morning. But last week, I sort of broke off all non-work related communication, simply because I knew that just being with her would bait me into staying smitten in her grasp for months on end. I wanted the feelings to stop, I wanted to cut off how I cared, so I turned down every lunch that she's asked me to for the past month or so. I did invite her out to one evening, but after she turned even that down, I never cared later on about her own invitations to me out to dinner...

The biggest step and largest loss I think for me, was when I said that I wouldn't walk with her to Union Station any longer after work. Every single time we did that in the past, I would return home smiling and happy with glee, thinking that the two of us still stood a chance together. We always had such great conversations whenever we were sharing each other's company, in my relative experience at least, and I knew that the only way to really cut her out of my heart was to end that one last thing we had with each other that was always filling me with false fucking hope...

But I've missed her this week, I really have. I knew I'd go soft in the stomach as soon as I was feeling better, when I broke off all communication with her last week. That's why I did it when I wasn't feeling well; it was the only time when I would have the guts and perhaps goddam stupidity to achieve what needed to be done. To break the bonds between us and to one last time break my heart. But this week, I couldn't help but keep wanting to just be by her side, even as a friend, simply because I feel so much happier and so much more real when she's there. I'm so fucking pussy-whipped as a spineless jellyfish, I know, but a man just does not want to live his life miserable like I am...

And the thing is, I didn't expect her to act the way that she has, I really did not. Last week, my intention when I told her I wouldn't walk with her to Union after work any longer, was that I expected her to go back to her old ways and roots of just leaving at 5:30 and ignoring me with barely a goodbye. My goal was that she would piss me off so fucking much each and every single goddam day by doing so, that it would remind me even in my happier and more spineless states that she just doesn't give a flying fuck about me or my feelings. That's the way she was before, and I completely expected her to be that way again, to leave at 5:30 with barely even a fleeting message over IM that she was fleeing. I expected her to not show me even the least bit of an iota of courtesy and concern, that's all...

"Knights of Columbus, that hurt!"...

But the opposite seems to have happened. Now, I don't know whether she actually has been busy at work or whatnot, but after leaving at 5:30 like I predicted for most of last week after I told her to just leave early without me? Her stance seems to have changed and shifted starting on Friday, when she stayed all the way to 5:50 before a long fucking goddam weekend, seemingly because she was waiting for me to break my radio silence and actually talk to her before bidding goodbye....

And more or less, the same shit has happened with her this week, in which even though she's not doing anything of value at work at the time, she's just been waiting there at her desk all the way to 5:45 each and every day, almost as if to see whether I'd actually choose to leave work with her or not. She has absolutely no reason to stick in the office all the way to the very last moments she can make her goddam train, yet for every single day of this week, that's exactly what she's done, as if for me. Maybe I'm just completely off-base and kilter here, but really?...

"Great Odin's Raven", WTF?...

So yeah, I've missed her. And as the goddam spineless jellyfish that I am, on Thursday night after I saw she was still in the office at 5:40 that day, I told her over IM that for once I had the time to leave work with her. And guess what the fuck happened exactly then and there? Almost in an instant, she told me she'd meet up to leave the office, turned off her IM as quickly as she could, and then appeared at my desk fully really to depart in no time flat...

She was even sporting a cute little quirk of a smile, a bitter-sweet smirk tasting of the victory over me that she had just won. It's like it was a game we were playing, and she was fully intent on forcing my hand through heartfelt guilt, to get me to admit that I damn well needed her, and eventually I did cave in. I wanted to be with her, I missed her presence so, and how the fuck can't I give into my feelings when she for once had seemed to show actual genuine concern for me, to stay even just the extra ten or so minutes waiting for my reply, each and every single day?...

"Where did you get that hand grenade?"

"I... don't... know"...

Yeah, I know, I'm playing with fire here, or a Trident really. She still hasn't shown any interest in me at all in terms of being anything more than a friend. It's a dangerous game I'm playing here, considering it's only a matter of time until my brain tricks me believing that there's some sort of New Hope of being with her as something more than a pal. And yes, it still depresses me how right after we arrive at Union Station and leave for our train platforms, she acts as if I don't even exist. I so desperately would love to at least reopen the lines of communication through e-mail, but considering she hasn't responded to the last three or four I've sent her, can I really be blamed for being so hesitant? She still hasn't sent me a single letter back for the past month, you know...

And she fully realizes that I'm available for chat on IM pretty much every single hour of the day after work. Now, I understand her point of view that after staring at a computer monitor for hours without end at work, that the last thing she'd want to do at home is spend the night talking to me in front of all that goddam radiation. But the thing is, only once or twice in our history have I ever been able to say hello to her when she's home, even on weekends. While it definitely does show that she has had more than enough of computers at work, it also shows that she just doesn't care enough about me to even want to talk to me when she's not in the office...

Yes, we've had a few nights out as friends, but they were token gestures that led nowhere, that's all. I wish that she would want for us to be something more, but I know it's all a futile folly of a hope that I keep falling helplessly for. She keeps teasing me, toying and pleasing me into wanting more and more, but honestly, this is all I will ever be able to have with her. Yet this week, I've missed her so much at times, that I can't help but feel like Ron Burgundy, healing and mending his broken heart from a cocoon into a goddam butterfly, by choosing to live through the goddam struggles and pain just for her...

"Bear Fight!"

At the same time though, the film sadly taught me the same old lesson that I wish I could've remembered long ago. That I've been through this shit countless times in the past, of becoming smitten with this kitten of a spiteful woman, and then feeling like a fucktard after realizing how one-sided these feelings really were. The only difference here is that I really, really, ridiculously do like her, both as a friend and as something more. She's different than all the rest, or at least I keep sensing that she is. I've felt that way since the first time I spoke with her, and even after all these weeks of telling myself otherwise, I still find it true to this very day...

I've missed her, and I cannot deny that. I just feel so much happier and content when I'm around her; I feel so cold and ridiculous when I'm not. I don't know what's better in the long run still, whether I should cut her out of my life to begin the healing process anew, or whether to just listen to these feelings I have that still give me a false New Hope. A fool I am, I realize that more than ever, but she really does feel different than all the rest. I don't know if that means anything, but I do know at times that it's harder for me to ignore her, than it is to even have my heart broken over and over again. Sometimes, I'd rather just take the good with the bad than to always be so goddam miserable, you know?...

"It's so hot outside; milk was a bad choice"...

God, I still make my life out to be such a goddam sap of a Spanish soap opera...

... or an over-pretentious, melodramatic, piece of shit of an anime, if you will...

Because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it?...

... since sadly, no matter how hard I try, I just can't help how I feel...

... I just... I just can't sign off the both of us...

... and the best of both worlds...

"Stay classy, Planet Earth"...

Y2kk Update: Okay, seriously, I'm so sick and tired of being... well, sick and tired...

I'm still not feeling well, even after a fucking week of recuperation? WTF? I had this entire three day Canadian weekend to get better, and still my hands are burning like fists of goddam fury? My temperature is out of whack, my throat is sore as hell, and my head is stuck mind-fucked, muddled and befuddled to the point where I've literally gone goddam insane...

Down is up and up is down. Ein is Finkle and Finkle is Einhorn. I can't think straight with my head the way that it is. My temperature controls my temperament, and now I'm damn afraid of just how I'll act and goddam react if my condition does not improve, to all the shit that will happen tomorrow at bloody hell work no doubt...

And yes, I've been thinking in preparation, mulling shit through. My last update here on my download site left on an interesting thought, as I noted that in my honest opinion? The way to show you really care about someone else, is to be by that person's side and do whatever you can to make them happy, even if it hurts your own self in the process. And by all accounts, I still believe in that determination of a definition, so to speak...

The question that has been circling my cerebral though, is do I ever really show any concern for her? She's ignoring me yes, utterly and completely in a week where I'm feeling like goddam shit everywhere in the body, not to mention deep within the bowels of my broken heart no less. But I in turn am doing the same to her, vice versa with an emphasis on vice. When really, by my own definition of compassion and concern, shouldn't I be doing everything in my power to try to make her happy? Even if by her goddam ignoring me, it wounds and chills me to the bone, shouldn't I still just shrug it all off and refuse to ignore her my own goddam self?...

The unfortunate fact of the matter is, my patience is paper-thin, and it's not like she's ever really told me that just by being there with her, that I ever make her happy. Sure, I can infer and insinuate from those few times that I was by her side, when I made her laugh and cheer and giggle like a school girl on pez and prosac, that perhaps she does enjoy my company. But I've seen her do the same damn happy as fuck shit with tons of other guys before. How do I know whether the smiles she gives me are genuine or not? She has so many friends, so many real friends she's known for so much longer than she first met me. What right do I have to presume that I could actually make her happy, or need to make her happy when she has all of them?...

... she doesn't need me... she's proven time and time again, she does not need me, simple as that...

I wish that wasn't true. I so long every single waking moment of the day that she would be the one who's thinking and dreaming of me at the exact same times as I do of her...

But I don't know. The biggest question that I've been pondering like a goddam lazy ass panda all day, is simply put, what sets me off in the morning like a ticking goddam time bomb? Sure, I get into work feeling a bit dizzy and hazy, but well enough to function with every single other worker in the goddam office. But what is it that I see in her eyes every single fucking morning of the day, that sets me off and makes me so goddam miserable that I actually turn into the fucking monster I've become and ignore her? What is it exactly that I see in her face, that makes me the sad fucking excuse of a man that I am today? WTF?...

And to be honest? I still don't know if I can really answer that question. Part of it, the shamed half of me that is, feels like it's because I know I have to ignore her. I know I have to distance myself from her or else my own pain will never go away. And in the process of distancing myself from her, every single time she smiles and makes me happy, it kills me inside knowing that it just ain't real, that I can't let it be real. I can't be her friend or even her goddam coworker with these goddam feelings of mine deep down inside that I still have for her. And it seems to me that every single fucking time I start feeling that same fucking way again, my heart simply shuts down in goddam meltdown mode, and I'm just never able see the light of day again 'till nightfall...

But there's also this other thing, this other goddam immaturity and goddam insecurity within myself that I just cannot stand. I know and accept that I am inherently a selfish man, innately a man of goddam utilitarian values, whether I like them or agree with them or not. But even so, I just can't stomach the fact that I hate seeing her happy if I'm not the one making her smile. It's such a stupid ass concept, such a childish one if you think about it for even a fraction of a second, but the very moment that I see her smile and giggle with any other fucking coworker in my goddam office? It's like there's something in the thickness of the darkness of the bottom of my skull that just goddam snaps. I can't take it, I can't take seeing her happy like that, and I don't know why. I can't take seeing her enjoy herself so, not if I'm not the one who makes her smirk, and it kills me inside knowing how goddam insecure and selfish I must really be to be this way...

I mean, shouldn't I be happy whenever she's happy, regardless of who made her that way? If I was a good man, if only I were a real man, if only I had goddam confidence and a goddam conscience, wouldn't I just set her free and be content with the fact that she lives her own life?...

Yet here I am, wallowing in self-pity, and selfishly choosing to drag her down with me every single fucking time she smiles at anyone else but me? How the fuck possessive, obsessive and goddam insane can a man really be? Can I really be that damn much of an asshole? WTF?...

To be honest, I don't know. I just don't know if that's all true or not. But really, every single fucking time I try to think with a straight line of thought, that's the only logical conclusion I seem to come up with. It's the only real trigger that I can see that she causes in me each and every single morning I see her, as pathetic as this all sounds...

On Friday morning, when she came over to me and my coworker, she was smiling and giggling and telling jokes to me right off the bat. I tried to return the favour, seeing how much she was actually attempting to be my friend that morning, but the sickness in my stomach and the goddam broken heart in the pits of my gut just couldn't muster a real smile through. I felt awful about it, terrible that I couldn't even put on a goddam act for her when she was trying to cheer me up, in her own little way at least. She was trying to show that she cared about me, at least as a friend, and yet I still didn't have the selflessness and goddam strength to just force out a laugh and let her be happy. WTF is wrong with me?...

I want her to be happy. I want her to find goddam happiness, when she's not around at least. It's just that, whenever she's nearby and I smell the fair scent of her skin, and every single time I gaze into her eyes and realize how much I miss her even when she's standing right before me, it's like I become a rotten spoiled child all over again. I want her to be mine, I want her to need me. But every single time someone else makes her just as giggly and joyous as I ever could, my mind just can't take it. I just can't take the cold, bitter truth, it seems...

I want to be a good enough man, to be content when she finds contentment somewhere else...

I want to be a good enough man, to genuinely smile when she smiles for someone else...

I so desperately want to be a good enough man, to be happy for her when she finds happiness elsewhere, even with another man...

But I don't know whether it's just human nature preventing me from ever being that good man, or if it's just my selfish pride getting in the goddam way...

Every single fucking weekend, I dream of being that man... a good fucking man, that is...

Yet every single fucking week? I have to relearn and relive the same cold, hard truth...

... that I am not the man she wants...

... that I am not the man she needs...

... and that she honestly deserves so much more of a man than I can ever be...

Why is that my mind and soul must wrestle with and realize this same old shit every goddam week?...

... though maybe it's because, it really is true?...

... my heart is colour-blind...

... and my heart is broken...

Y2kk Update: Well, this has been more than just a goddam miserable week...

Now, yes, I know that I always whine and complain every single fucking update here with my noname negativity, to the point where hearing that the past seven days were nothing but shit definitely does not come as a surprise to you two readers out there. But considering I've been deftly and ghastly sick to the stomach since goddam Monday, to the point where I've been nothing more than a sleep-walking phantom in terms of presence, with some sort of on and off flu illness that is literally chilling me to the bone? Well, I can now most definitely say that this past week was one of my worst fucking weeks in life that I can ever goddam recall...

Ever since Monday and stretching all throughout the week, I've had horrible headaches and mind-numbing migraines, not to mention running temperatures and an upset stomach. Fuck, just the other night, I spent the entire evening with goddam hiccups with a gut that was feeling like it was on a goddam acid trip, which definitely did not bode good tidings for the shit that was also going on in my throat. Every single fucking time I breathed in and out, it was like I was having a goddam heart-attack of indigestion. WTF is up with that?...

What I don't get though, is why on earth that manager at work this past Tuesday wouldn't give a shit about my condition? I was obviously in pain, and I told him straight to his face that I was. Yet he kept on rambling on and on about his motherfucking great idea, to put me and my coworker in a company meeting tomorrow to present all the shit that we've done. I mean certainly, on any other week where I'm feeling at least somewhat responsive, I wouldn't hesitate to take on the reins and reigns of fire of such an opportunity. But considering the meeting was Wednesday and he was only giving us one damn day here to prepare, and also because of the fact that I could barely speak properly let alone walk a crooked line, you're damn right that I tried to protest and tell the goddam manager at work that it would be best to postpone for just seven fucking days more to gather my goddam bearings...

Yet the asshole wouldn't listen to me. He just completely disregarded what I was saying and how I was feeling, and sent out a company e-mail the moment after, telling the entire place that the presentation was on. My coworker next to me didn't understand why I was so adamant against having the meeting as well, even though I blatantly told him that I was sick and planning to take Wednesday off before the manager had come. My team member, he's a good guy and everything, but how can he not fathom why I would force myself to go to work, even when I'm bloody hell sick to the bone, when it comes to a goddam company meeting where we two are the forerunners of the whole goddam project and presentation? He knew I was planning to take Wednesday off from work, yet he never once got the clue that maybe having the pressure of a goddam corporate gathering would force my hand and my fucking goddam body out of bed...

Whatever. Either way, I came to work on Wednesday, dragging myself kicking and screaming out of my house to do so. And yeah, I guess the presentation went alright; hell, the two of us even went overtime, much to both the applause and chagrin of the crowd at hand. The thing is, I was feeling like complete and utter shit for the better part of the entire day, ready to hurl at any moment's notice. But during the presentation, I accomplished exactly what I did during any of my speeches during high school when I was sick and ill as well. Somehow, I was able to just suck it all up and play the role of the strong soldier, running on pure adrenaline to simply seem perfectly healthy and normal the whole presentation through. I even was able to smile and crack jokes and shit like that, even though right before and right after the whole goddam meeting, I was more than ready to leave my entire fucking breakfast and lunch there in a puddle of vomit on the goddam floor. WTF?...

So the real question is, if I can man up and take it on the chin when it comes to goddam presentations and speeches, why can't I even manage to put up a real act for her? WTF?...

The thing is, besides the fact that I was sick as a pup this entire past week, these past five days have been absolutely miserable because of what I've been doing to her. And what she's been doing to me, quite honestly.... completely ignoring me, that is...

Last week, she mentioned to me that she was dressing up and going to the Opera with a friend; some guy friend who seemed to be treating it all like some dinner and date. Naturally, I will readily admit that I got jealous as fuck, and it was gnawing me at the fucking maw and gut all weekend long that she was out with this guy. I have feelings for her, deeper feelings than I'd care to admit even to her, and I just couldn't help but wonder whether she too was counting this as some sort of fucking date. So in my madness and insanity, I wrote her an e-mail. It was just a friendly e-mail where I asked how her weekend was going, mentioned that she must've had a good time at the opera, and then sent her some friendly internet video links for good measure. And for anyone who cared to look, it was blatantly obvious in my e-mail that I was so jealous of her night out. Even so, the very least I expected back was a goddam one line response...

... but even that didn't come... it never came...

... I got nothing... I honestly never get fucking anything from her...

Sunday came and gone without a single return of a reply. Then Monday arrived, and in the morning, I didn't ask her about the opera or my e-mail whatever. I was praying at the back of my mind that she would bring those topics up herself, especially considering I knew that she had received and must've read my goddam e-mail where I already asked about the fucking opera. At the very fucking least, I expected her to thank me for the links that I sent her in my letter, as she used to do that before I told her exactly how I felt. But instead, I got nothing but the fucking cold shoulder. She doesn't trust me, simple as that, and she went through the entire damn morning without even a single damn hint or mention of her goddam dinner date on Saturday...

I know it's none of my business, but as "friends", she owed it to me to reference or refer to it, or at least reply to my fucking goddam e-mail. Yet apparently, even that was too much of her to ask. WTF?...

I didn't really know this at the time, but I was sick. I was starting to feel the inauguration of the onslaught of my headaches, and just like last time during the week of my birthday, I just didn't have the tolerance, patience or fortitude to put up with her usual callous crap. All I wanted was to know how her fucking weekend at the opera went, or at least receive a slight thank you note for the e-mail I carefully crafted for her the day before. Yet instead, all I got was silence and generic goddam ponderings and panderings from her, nothing more and absolutely nothing of goddam substance. She shafted me in the sense that she blatantly proved that Monday morning without a shadow of a doubt, that even if I am her "friend", she doesn't care for me enough to think about how I'm feeling, and she most certainly does not trust me with even the slightest details of her goddam date...

With the storm clouds brewing in my mind from the goddam migraine, how the fuck could I find the strength to tolerate this shit? It's a fucking common courtesy just to send a fucking e-mail back when somebody sends one to you, yet I can now honestly say that throughout the entire fucking week, she never once sent a reply or even once referenced what I wrote. WTF is wrong with her? Is that too much to ask? WTF?...

This was the course (and discourse) of the entire damn week. In the morning, I'd arrive at work and say "good morning; hey there, how are you?" and make small chit-chat. Sometimes I'd actually admit something from the day before, but most of the week, I just made idle generic talk with the blind faith and hope that she'd start revealing more. But nothing ever did come of our morning conversations, as she talks to me like a goddam coworker and nothing more. And as a result, in the mornings whenever she'd come to visit, every fucking day I promised myself that I'd find the strength and virtue to put on an act and be polite with her when I see her. Yet every fucking morning, she alone has this innate ability to bring out nothing but the goddam truth and honesty from my wretched soul, to the point where I honestly can't stand to be with her at stand-up any longer...

She is perhaps the only person in my entire damn history that has the daily capacity to make me both incredibly happy and insanely miserable, sometimes even during the same damn sentence she weaves. Now sure, last week I spent every fucking day after work with her for half an hour or so, and I was so damn thankful to her for how jovial she made me feel inside. But these past seven days, as soon as she mentioned her date, as soon as she refused to reply to my e-mail, and as soon as she showed she didn't even have the decency to tell me how her fucking weekend went with the other fucking guy, she showed me that she simply does not trust me whatsoever. I don't care if it's none of my business, because if she actually did fucking care about me, she'd make it my business. She proved to me time and time again this week, every single fucking morning, that she has nothing but a callous void when it comes to her goddam lack of feelings for me...

Sometimes I can sense guilt and pity there in the pits of her eyes, but it's just not enough. She cares about me, but not in the way I want, not even enough to the point where I'd even consider us friends...

So I cut off almost all communication, I honestly did. I had already decided last week that as "friends", I just didn't want to put up with her own friends and other coworkers anymore. I have a strict definition of what a "friend" is, all depending on levels of trust, and I just can't stand any of the people I'm forced to be with when going out with her at night or at lunch. So last week, I already started declining going out to movies and lunch and dinner with her and the people she claims to adore, simply because I have no reason to put up with her goddam assholes of buddies any longer. But I still left one refuge of salvage between the both of us, the fact that we would walk back to Union Station together every single day, just the two of us. It made me so happy to be with her last week for those brief moments in time that we were together, that it killed me inside this week knowing that it was all nothing more than a fucking goddam lie yet again...

I told her on Tuesday that I wasn't going to walk with her after work any longer, and I did my best to try to pass it off as nothing more than an act of generousity. In my eyes, she seems so damn genuinely happy herself when it's just the two of us out in the sunshine together, yet every single day before we would leave together, she would act like I'm holding her down. She prefers to leave before 5:30 each day, when all I normally ask of her is to wait ten minutes longer. So when cutting off this final act of compassion between the both of us on Tuesday, I told her that I felt guilty every single time I make her wait for me after work, which was a true enough lie more or less. I just didn't tell her that it actually hurts how I can literally sense that she doesn't want to wait for me, and she proved it again in our Tuesday night discussion...

When claiming it was no problem to wait for me ten minutes every single day after work, she kept using claims of "I don't mind" and "it's no big deal". Which is fine, I guess, for a coworker to tell another coworker, but that's just not what I want from her and what I want from life. I even iterated twice to her in that conversation that "it's not about what you don't mind; it's about what you prefer". In essence, if we were going to continue walking together after work, it would have to be that she wants to be there with me, and I needed her to say that to me. Yet she never once did; no matter how much she protested to the fact I was essentially cutting her out of my life, she never once got the clue and told me that she enjoys even my fucking company beside her...

Even after I fucking told her twice that it's not about being polite, it's about what she actually fucking wants to do, she still never once tried to show some mercy and even pretend to claim that she desires to be at my side for even half a fucking hour a day. How the fuck could I possibly be happy with her any longer after she couldn't even tell me that fucking much? Is that too fucking much to ask? WTF?...

So Wednesday, yeah, Wednesday was more than just awkward. Tuesday was essentially the moment I broke up with her, and she treated me like it the day after. She knew from me the day before that I was sick to the stomach with a fucking humongous headache, and that I had forced myself to come to work for a goddam fucking company presentation, yet she never once messaged me in the morning. She never once even wished me good luck before I went into the meeting room. She wasn't even there when I was doing my goddam presentation, not because she was outside enjoying the sunshine like I told her would be better, but rather that she actually went back to her desk to do some fucking goddam work of her own. WTF?...

She chose to completely ignore me for the goddam entire day, and for what? Even if she was angry at me after finally getting a clue as to what I was trying to get at the day before, she couldn't even wish me fucking luck before going into the fucking meeting room on a day where I had a fucking gigantic migraine? What the fuck is wrong with her? Why is she even completely incapable of common fucking courtesy? WTF?...

I did fine in the meeting presentation without her, but that's not the point. Now sure, I didn't get the chance to message her "good morning" right when I got into work because my gmail account was all fucked up at the time, but even so, she knew I was fucking sick on a day I was planning to have originally stayed at home. Yet she chose to ignore me all fucking day long, not even sending me a single message to wish me good luck, and claimed later that it was all because she didn't want to disturb me. What the fuck is wrong with her? How the fuck could choosing to ignore me for an entire fucking day possibly make me feel better? Don't tell me she actually believes this form of bullshit of hers. WTF?...

I told her the same very day I revealed my feelings, that whenever I "clam up" and start ignoring other people (her especially that week), it's not because I have absolutely nothing to say. It's rather that there's only one thing on my mind, and that I feel I have to say it and blurt it out to the person, but I just fucking can't. I can pray in the deep, dark bowels of my mind and gut that perhaps she's doing the same damn shit to me. But even so, it's just so disappointing that she can't see far enough past herself to show me even a morsel of mercy on a week where I'm fucking sick as a goddam fucking dog...

I admit though that I've been quite cruel to her myself, getting frustrated and angry at her the brief moments that we do meet in the morning for work. If only I wasn't feeling like total shit, I would probably just apologize and try to make it up with good conversation later on. But fuck, she knows that I'm fucking ill to the stomach with a fucking head that's spinning like a top. Yet she can't muster even one shred of decency to try to make me feel better; instead, she chooses to ignore me for the rest of the entire damn day, for what exactly? For revenge, out of vindiction? Out of fear, out of frustration? What exactly, could possibly be her reason for ignoring me so and making me feel like even more fucking shit as a result? WTF?...

The thing is, I know I've been rather harsh and cruel to her this entire past week, and I felt like total shit on Friday after it was all said and done. We knew neither of us had anything to do at work that day, yet even in our total boredom, we never bothered to message each other. And the thing is, I know it hurt her, I know it did. She normally leaves work on Friday's at five, usually after I come over and chat with her for the better part of an hour since it's not like we're doing any real work anyhew. But I didn't come over to her this week, and as a result, she stayed until 5:50 and missed her train going home. She briefly stopped by my cubicle before she left, looking not exactly sad but certainly depressed and distressed, while distantly claiming she had a lot on her mind and was going to go out for a long walk alone...

She was like a ghost of a shell there really, with her eyes seeming like they were on the verge of shining interior tears, so to speak. She was technically speaking to me, but it's like she couldn't see me or chose not to perceive me, the same sort of blank stare that I've given her ever since she laughed in my face at my goddam feelings. I could really sense her pain there, pain that I knew that I was the fucking cause of, but I just couldn't say anything because nothing I would say or do would ever feel right. She had ignored me herself that entire damn day; she could've easily tried to make conversation and tried to make me feel better, fully knowing how shit I was feeling from my goddam sickness. Yet she chose this path like a goddam frightened child, pulling off some vindictive bitch routine waiting for me to pamper and shower her with affection. This is just not the way I can live my life anymore, and maybe for once she got the fucking message and impression...

I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be this person. I don't want to lose to her. But the way things are going, the way things seem to be? I don't want it to be this way, I really honestly don't, but I just don't see another goddam choice in the matter. This is the way things have to be, cold and fucking distant, no matter how fucking much it pains my heart to realize the truth...

I hate what I did. She may have ignored me, but I too ignored her. I don't want to be this cruel and vindictive myself, but it's not like I didn't have a reason to this week. My headache was clouding my judgment; I just couldn't think straight and I just didn't feel fine with anything in life. I managed to suck it all up when it came to the presentation on Wednesday or when I was talking to others randomly during the week. But the thing is, this is the girl of my dreams we're talking about here, the same one who fucking laughed in my face like a bloody hell nightmare. I wanted so desperately to be able to put on a brave face and a goddam mask of an act for her as well, but with her I find I can be nothing but goddam completely honest with myself. I can't be any other way but how I feel...

I hate what I'm doing, and I hate what I've become. But really, as much as I so fear losing her for good, in reality she's proven to me throughout the course of this week just how little care she really has for me in all the ways that matter. I understand that she showed fear and sadness in her barren and stale watery eyes on Friday afternoon, but if anything, those were stares of just guilt and self-pity and nothing more. She fully knows this is her fault, not that I can blame her for how she feels or lack thereof. Either way though, while I'm being an immature and insecure asshole in the way I'm reacting to everything that's happened between the both of us, it's only natural and only human to be acting the way that I am right now. She knows this, and hell, I'm sure she's seen it all before. I can't be allowed to confuse guilt and compassion for genuine concern and feeling, not ever again, that's all...

I was fucking sick all fucking week long. My hands, even as I'm typing this, are still trembling from goddam temperature. I have an excuse for being so cold and callous towards her, considering my brain was nothing but a goddam headcase of a trainwreck all week long. But what the fuck is her excuse? When she was sick with allergies, I sacrificed my lunch to be by her side the entire way through, just to show her how much I cared. I consoled her, tried my best to make her feel better, and even suffered a bit of a backlash as a result from her complete lack of feelings. I tried to connect with her, to do anything I could humanly do to soothe her pain. And even if it failed, at the very least, it's the goddam thought and feelings that should count...

And goddammit, I can't help but feel that is one of the true definitions and determinations of love. It's when you want to be with someone so damn badly, it's when you sympathize and empathize with how they're feeling so damn much, that you willing choose to be by their side the whole way through and risk getting sick yourself, all in some irrational attempt to try to make them feel even one fucking bit better about their day. That to me, is one of the true symbols and definitions of real care and concern, yet not once did she seem to reciprocate the same damn signs of compassion I tried in vein to give to her all those weeks ago...

It's about wanting to be with someone so damn much, that you choose to be there for them, to try to make them happy, even if it hurts yourself in the process. It's about the choice of sacrifice, really...

But even with a goddam fever sending shivers down my spine, she did nothing but spite and ignore me all fucking week long, as if I was some grotesque human being she wanted nothing to do with except as a goddam source of paltry and plebian entertainment. She and I have such fucking different definitions of friends; she chooses to label anyone she meets who turns out to be a source of stories and interest, as a goddam "friend". Assholes she can keep at a distant arms length, that is. But I, on the other hand, need a bond of real concern and trust in order to ever really give a shit about a person as a friend. I need a true give and take relationship; it's about the other person trusting me as much as I give my trust to them. And I feel none of that with her, no longer at least. I seriously wonder if I ever have...

I have feelings for her, I really do. But I just can't fucking trust her, not if she never gives a shit about me...

All she had to do this week was send me a fucking e-mail. Just one fucking e-mail in response to the letter I sent her...

Is that too much to ask for?...

Really, honestly, is that too fucking much to ask?...

... but fuck, the cold truth is...

... apparently so...