Y2kk Update: How long has it been now? Almost two months since I last heard from her?...

... wow... I don't know why really, but it's a strange feeling... knowing that it's actually over...

... I think...

She has an uncanny knack for somehow regaining contact with me the very day after I conclude that I'm never going to see her again...

... it's like she reads my mind... or this bloody hell website of mine...

... probably...

It's been almost two months since I last heard from her. There was that spat that we had between us, then her unexpected outburst of closeness for one week all of a sudden, and then nothing. Absolute silence since then, not even a single indication that she came back from her vacation alive. I was so tempted at the time to write her when she returned from her trip, it would've been the gentleman thing to do, I suppose. But I told myself that I had been the last one to write to her before her plane took off in the first place, and last year after she returned from Malaysia, she made sure to check up on me as soon as she landed. I enjoyed that feeling last year, until she gave me a spontaneous friend speech at least. I was hoping she'd show the same kind of concern and courtesy this year, but I suppose that was simply too much to hope for and ask. That was over a goddam month ago now...

So now what? For over a year now, I've wondered what it would feel like to finally be free of the woman from work, I've wondered if time would heal all wounds and unbind her spell. It's been almost two months now, and you'd think I would be over her by now, especially considering it was my choice as well to not e-mail her when she finally returned home from her trip. It's been two whole months, and yet still I feel the same way about her as I did before. She's still the first thought on my mind every single morning, and she's still the last vision I see before I go to bed. I still dream of her, albeit much more sparingly. But just the other night, I had dreamt that she was kicking my ass in Starcraft or some shit like that, ever so casually as if we had been boyfriend and girlfriend for years by that point. Seriously, what the fuck?...

It's been two fucking months, get bloody over it, I keep telling myself. And yet still, I don't know why, but everytime I see an attractive woman on the streets here in Spring and soon to be Summer, I actually feel guilty and think of the girl from work. Why the fuck is that? Every single Spring before I met this woman, I would walk around the streets of Toronto just eye-balling and dreaming over every single damn hottie I could spot with my eyes. And now here I am, trying to accomplish the same damn feeling, only to experience guilt and fucking remorse everytime I witness a woman who even remotely resembles the girl that I still have such strong feelings for. It's been two fucking bloody hell months, just get over it, I tell myself every single time. Why is it though, that I can never seem to get past that broca divide, whatever the hell that means?...

Seriously, I guess I need to know, what is the definition of love? I've had feelings for this girl at work for well over a year now, soon to be two years to be honest. At the beginning, she seemed to show some interest in me, but that died out only weeks after I felt we were starting to communicate and connect. Why hasn't it ever died out in me? Is it desperation, is it simply loneliness? I ask myself that every time I get those goddam memory spasms and spells that remind me of just how I felt for her in the goddam first place. Is any of it real? If two bloody hell months have passed and I still feel the same damn way, is it still a goddam infatuation? I haven't seen her since goddam January, and yet I still wish I could see her just one last time. Is it all an illusion still, or is it actually love? At this point, that's all I really want to know...

I keep telling myself that I shouldn't talk about her anymore, that speaking about her is what's keeping this false image and hope of her alive in my delusional heart. But the sad thing is, everytime there's a lull or a silence when I'm out with friends, something inside of me just begs to bring up the topic of the girl at work with them, simply because she's all I ever still think and dream about. And whenever I do lapse, whenever I do start mentioning her, even as an off-comment on the side? That's when I get the eyes-rolling, that's when I get my friends shaking their heads at me in bitter disgust. It's been six fucking months since I last had a decent conversation with her, and that was already after a year of having my pride and dignity ripped to shreds with her every word, they remind me. Why am I still hung up on her, they complain. Why am I still bothering them with the same old shit week after week, day after day?...

Nearly two months after she chose to ignore me or was just so busy that she's forgotten that I exist, I keep asking myself the same damn questions. What is it I see in her, and why is it that I just can't seem to let go? Is it mortality causing me to feel this way, that as I get older, I see a woman that once had some potential to see something in me, and because of that I refuse to see reality and let her fucking go? But why is it then that for every other one of my past crushes, I could not remember their faces even a week after I hadn't seen them. Yet for this one girl from work, this one woman that I can't fucking shut up about no matter how hard I try? Why is it that two months since I last heard from her at all and almost six months since I last fucking saw her in person, why is it that I can still see her visage and dream of her face as if I had just been with her one fucking hour ago? Why is she so different for me, why is it so hard to just let go?...

But does it really matter anymore? She's chosen to not respond to me, she's chosen to forget I even exist...

... almost two fucking months have passed since I last heard from her, afterall...

... two fucking bloody hell months of silence...

It's a strange feeling really, knowing that after all this time, it's over...

... that it's finally, actually over...

... I think...

Y2kk Update: Wow, after two fucking years, I finally got my actual promotion...

... and then was goddam demoted the very next day...

Okay, at least I got my 15K pay raise back in January. Despite everything else that I would prefer to complain about my company, at least they offered me the reasonable bucks to actually keep me there. It's just that, work has been really goddam slow for ages, especially since I was never put on the only actually important project in the entire company. I don't know if I would've wanted that kind of slave labour responsibility, but I do know that there's only so many days of twiddling your thumbs that a sane man can take after a long while...

So finally late last week, my manager actually pulled me to the side and told me that he was promoting me to become a manager just below him. While obviously I'd still be reporting to him over the long run, I'd now be in charge of the new project that we had planned together at the time. I'd get to act as development manager next to the product manager when it came to three n00bs in the office, two of them being co-ops, all under my technical wing. And hell, finally I'd even get to run the software architecture meetings from this point on. While obviously this all meant very little when you realize that my own manager would be looking over my shoulder every damn five minutes, it was still a welcome honour and prideful feeling to get this kind of responsibility and promotion. I had been waiting to sink my teeth into bossing mindless nuggets around for the past goddam year, and finally it was my chance to shine in terms of slave labour, or so I thought...

Because then came this past Monday. And what do you know, but my manager actually had promoted me to manager because he was resigning, and he wanted me to replace him. I personally never saw it coming, his departure from the company completely blindsided me. And I guess it really hit a sore spot with the big wigs at my company too, considering they were so pissed (probably thanks to the competitor that he was leaving us for...) that they threw him out of the office the very next day. With no need for him to stay the next two weeks of work, I no longer had anyone left in the office to protect me from the angry directors up above. And unfortunately for me, being the new manager on the block for the past couple of fucking days, things certainly didn't turn out good for business from my own point of view...

That's when I was called into a brief meeting, where apparently my new manager told me that I was too young and too unproven and all that other shit to become a manager of my own. I asked about the project I was supposed to run and architect, and apparently thanks to my old manager's departure, every single fucking idea or recommendation that he had put on paper before he left had just been rescinded. Which meant, the new project I was going to develop for was completely dead in the water and would never be saved, and I had absolutely no team members left to lead. So really, just one or two days into my new life as a goddam manager at my company, I was reduced back to being a goddam pawn of a code monkey. Except even worse, all my old projects were being shelved and cancelled as well, leaving me with absolutely nothing to do in the office but browse the fucking web for you know what (and no, not porn). WTF?...

It's been a frustrating week, to say the least, and I'm sure things will only get more pointless and futile from here on in. But whatever, I'm still getting paid, right? Like I said, my boost to 60K at the start of the year is the only reason I'm still at my current company (I also just got a 6K bonus, with hopefully a 3-5% raise coming in July). The greed for money is the only goddam reason why I'm still sitting on my ass every single day, as every single one of my programming skills simply withers away and dies in goddam atrophy torment. I've barely touched Java at this job of mine, I never got to play with C++ or C# .NET since I left my government one, and it's sad to say that the only "languages" I've gotten true experience at here have been XML, CSS and bloody hell Javascript. How the fuck can I find a proper developer job with just those focused on the goddam resume? WTF?...

So yes, after two fucking years at my company, I was finally goddam rewarded, all in fucking vain...

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

... 'twas just another day in the office space, that's all...

Y2kk Update: I'm 26 years in age. I shouldn't feel that old... should I?...

The other day earlier this week, I ran into my old crush, the one that I used to spend every morning with on the train ride to work. She and I, we've been friends for a long time and I suppose there was never any real chemistry between us. Still, it broke my heart a bit when she did seem to continue her arranged relationship with this man overseas. It turned into a marriage, one that I wasn't part of, and I guess the rest is history. She and I, guess we'll always be distant friends, and we'll always talk when we both meet up. It's just that, guess she was always the girl I thought that I could turn to in later years, like at the point of age that I am at now. She was my backup, so to speak, although she deserves more to be considered just that...

Well, I ran into her on the train ride home this past week, and beyond the usual pleasantries, I guess you two readers out there can say that I was surprised and shocked to the core with quite a revelation. I know I've only seen her once or twice previously in the past few months, but she never once told me that she was pregnant. For certain, the last time we met up, she had already just learned of her pregnancy apparently, but didn't want to tell me. Besides being a bit offended and feeling left out that she wouldn't trust me, I was absolutely ecstatic that she had conceived. It's a miracle to me everytime a child is born, and while I do admit that I never really thought it would happen with the man she eventually did marry or that it would happen this quickly in her married life, I honestly couldn't have been more happy for her...

I just wish I was happier with myself, you know? I mean, not only did she get married this year at the age of 24 or 25, but she got pregnant too. That's just a complete wow moment for me, and made me look back at the past 26 years of my life with a new perspective, I suppose. A mini-epiphany if you will, that I've done and accomplished nothing in my life that I had wanted to at this point. It's never really been about career goals or ambitions for me, but rather of love and comfort and goddam family. I dunno, I guess I expected that beyond making enough money to support a family, that I'd be preparing for one at the age of 26. It's now that I'm starting to feel my biological clock ticking like a time bomb, and it's now that I've been looking back at the past 26 years of my life and realizing I'm no closer to my goal of being happy than I ever was before...

It's not that I want to go out clubbing and start hitting on and dating every hot girl I meet. It's never been about getting the pretty girl for me, but rather someone I can trust and be with and hold me at night, and all that sort of bullshit like that. I'm just lonely and always have been, that's all, but I don't honestly think I would be able to stand for the dating life. If only I could find somebody that I cared for and who cared for me back, and if only we could skip right to the close-natured relationship instead of all the flirtations and goddam games, then that's exactly what I seem to want in my life. And when it came to the girl at my work last night, it felt to me like she wanted exactly the same. It just didn't work out, and I haven't heard from her in a while now. And seeing my old friend happy and married and getting ready to bring an actual child into the world, only made me dwell on all this goddam emo bullshit even more...

And even beyond pregnancies, you know what makes a person think even harder about his own happiness and mortality? Weddings, that's what. And lo and behold, naturally I had to attend a wedding last night, specifically that of my brother-in-law's brother getting married on May 24th of all dates. Now, the weather was amazing and the newly wed couple really did look happy and in love with one another, as the little impromptu dance they did as they entered the floor simply showed how in sync their thoughts and minds were that very day. But naturally, beyond just the smiles on their own two faces, it's seeing everyone else at the bloody hell wedding having either a date or a girlfriend or a bloody hell wife while I stand alone, that's what makes me miserable at the age of 26...

There was that one girl, that slim (and short) ray of hope there. The sister of the bride, I had met her at my sister's own wedding back in January, as the quiet girl in the corner with the huge glasses who shunned me off. If you two readers out there can't remember, I had actually gone over to her table when she was left there all alone, as I had recognized that she didn't bring a date or anything. She was as lonely and empty looking as I appeared that night, and at first she seemed to have had glanced over in my direction. But as I began talking with her over the usual pleasantries and introductions, it dawned on me that either this girl was so socially inept that she didn't know how to handle a guy she thought was cute, or that she simply had no interest in me or dating anyone or goddam both. She shoo'ed me away quickly with excuses of being tired and having to go to work early the next morning, and that was it. It was five minutes of failure for me, but I never forgot that moment, hoping to redeem myself the next time I saw her sitting there alone at a table...

Well, there she was again, except this time it was a podium instead of any regular table where I could even remotely approach her. Sitting next to the bride as the maid of honour, there was no way I could speak to her unless I wanted the entire building to recognize my failure and defeat a second time through. Literally the pussy had been set on a pedestal, as she walked up to say her speech to the bride and groom. Problem was, her fifty seconds of glory on stage was so short and so completely not an adequate speech for a wedding party, that nobody even knew that she had done her deed by the time she had left. As far as I knew at the table, I thought she had acted as a special MC for the night or some shit like that, providing a short comedy segue or segway between lulls and meals and nothing more, until I realized what she had said (with eye-rolling drum rolls included) was apparently her speech for the whole goddam night. WTF?...

Okay, so obviously she wasn't a great public speaker, which was ironic considering she apparently took drama as her major in university, but whatever, right? Maybe she's just still shy in front of complete strangers or rather family members she knows, or maybe she just sucks as a writer (considering at least her delivery of her sixty seconds of comedy fame was well executed through the mic). Either way, even though I sort of felt embarrassed for her when nobody even noticed she was up there on stage, I couldn't help but think about how cute she was. Her skin was smooth and beautiful, her hair was exceptionally well done for the night, and I always did like that extreme FOB look she had going with those oversized glasses of hers. It's what attracted me to her back in January, and I couldn't help but feel like giving it a second shot last night...

Her unbridled speech wasn't her only disappointment and embarrassment that night. I guess I should've guessed she'd be a dancer, considering her background in drama and all that stuff. I just expected her to be a good dancer though, you know? As soon as the floor opened up after the bride and groom took center stage, that's when the sister of the bride came down, joined her one girl-friend, and they started doing tiny little dance moves to the sound of music. Alright, so she wasn't a good dancer, but at least she had some balance, which is more than I can say for myself. I didn't have the guts to ask her to dance, I rather preferred to wait until she took a break before I would go over and try to talk, so I turned away only for a moment to retreat to the dessert table, only to hear a sudden collapse and everyone on the dance floor holding their hands over their mouths in exasperation and exclamation...

Now, I'm not 100% sure it was her, but I didn't see her anywhere else on the dance floor. There was only one spot she could be, and that was in the middle of the huddle of all the onlookers that were trying to help out the poor lass who had slipped on her high heels and went crashing to the wood. Wow, I felt so bad for her, if that was her down and writhing in agony in front of all her family and friends. A moment later, I saw her make her exit from the center of the group and start searching the ground for something she had apparently lost. I would've assumed it was a contact lens, except that she had her huge glasses on. I would've thought it was the heel of her shoe, except both of her feet still looked fine as far as I was concerned. What was she looking for? Maybe it had been her friend that slipped, I don't know. But she sure looked blushed and embarrassed when searching practically on all fours, although oddly and kinkily enough, I kind of found the whole ordeal cute...

By that point, I had been watching her up on stage the entire night and never saw any man approach her. Maybe they were all intimidated of being shot down in front of the whole crowd as I was, or maybe no man but me was ever interested in her in the first place. Either way, never once did I see her speaking with a boyfriend or anything like that, so when she finally decided to take a break from doing little tiny jives on the dance floor, that's when I took a deep breath and prepared to make my move. It didn't take any real courage or anything, I had already spoken to her before in January afterall. I had no plan of action or anything, I was actually willing to just talk with her blind and cold and see what would develop. If she wants to talk further or even force me to the dance floor, then great. If not, then it was no big loss or deal, right?...

I just wish I got the chance to actually see which of those two she would choose. Because just as I was getting up from the dessert table to make my way to her and her friend, that's when some random dweeb of an asshole cut in front of me, took her hand as she looked so confused, and then ran off out of the door, pulling her all the way to the parking lot for God knows what reason. Meanwhile, I was just standing there, dazed and confused as to what the fuck just happened. She had spent the entire night alone except for her girlfriend, she had even danced for half an hour all by herself without any man bothering to approach her. But as soon she takes a break, not only does some random idiot (who reminded me of me, actually) come up, but actually takes her hand and runs her out of the building when she couldn't even walk properly with those high heels of hers on? WTF?...

My cousin actually thinks I got fake-boyfriended, that as soon as someone saw some guy approaching her, that he would rescue her from the fires of hell and brimstone or some shit like that. I don't know if that's true or not, but I did see the both of them hanging out for the rest of the night, at the dessert table and even at the dance floor later on when I was about to leave the wedding. I don't know what the fuck had exactly happened, whether she was literally just whisked off her feet or whatnot, but I'm not the type of guy to intrude on a woman's personal space when there's already a fucking knight in shining armour and amour by her side. All might be fair in love and war, but I wasn't willing to put up a fight. I left quietly into the night, with absolutely nothing to show for from the wedding but yet another goddam sad and depressing tale to tell this download site of mine...

My sister and brother-in-law got married at the age of 29, but they had met when they were only 23 or 24. I'm now twenty-six years in age, and feeling like I'm so goddam close to goddam thirty. I know deep down in the logistics of my mind that it's alright to be single, that not every person is cut out to be a family man, that maybe I will finally meet someone at 30 or more and that's when I'm meant to be happy. But deep down in my heart, in the wretches of my gut, after seeing the girl I used to care about become pregnant, and after going to yet another wedding where I leave rejected and goddam empty handed and hearted? How the fuck can I not feel alone in the universe tonight, listening to goddam emo music while ranting on this website?...

I could always change my personality, I could always become an asshole. I could always tell myself, fuck the other boyfriend, make your move and if she doesn't take you, screw her and all her friends. I could try to put on that fake bravado of confidence that so many men have convinced themselves is the real them. Hell, maybe it is the real them, but it's never been the true me, deep down inside. Sure, the last thing I want to become is desperate. But being that type of asshole kind of person, it's just not who I want to be either, even after all my dismal failures and embarrassments with the girl at work that rival even that of the speech the maid of honour made last night...

Either way, I don't know what will happen from here on in, but I am feeling that biological clock. I am feeling old...

... now sure, I've always been lonely, I've always felt alone...

... but now, I suppose, now I'm afraid...

Y2kk Update: Uggh, I guess I really haven't done anything this past week but "relax", but I really don't like being this damn busy...

I've done a bunch of stuff with friends and family the past week or so. It's Victoria Day weekend afterall, and people actually have the free time to spend time with me unlike every other time of the year, apparently. And I'm not exactly complaining about that, it's just that I'm not good or used to bunching a whole crop of activities together in such a short period of time. I'm just tired and kind of still depressed from the emo events listed in my last download update, that's all...

Tuesday I went with my cousin downtown to the Dundas Square AMC Theatre in Toronto. We went to see a showing of Iron Man, which we almost missed the starting of thanks to some Ryerson idiot behind the counter who couldn't understand my free goddam MovieWatcher ticket or anything. As for the film itself, the first half of it was decent and I had fun throughout the most of it, but the ending villain and the whole final battle was just so cheesy and comic book (not to mention CG) cliche that I couldn't help but have a neutral opinion in the end rather than a positive one. I was a bit disappointed in the movie, but I guess getting home so late that night (past 11 pm on a workday) kind of affected my mood and feelings for the film as well. I was so fucking tired the next morning, but whatever, arriving home after 11 pm one night of the week ain't so bad, right?...

Of course, my tiredness got a bit cumulative from there. Thursday night I was over at my brother's place since he was having PC issues, which I promptly realized once I got there were not actual issues at all. I spent the evening at his place just watching the NBA Spurs and Hornets game instead, having an old moldy Pepsi in the process, as it was the first time I had actually visited him at the house he and his friends moved into late last year. I wish he offered me a ride home in his van though, considering he doesn't need to pay for gas or anything (his company does). I didn't want to pressure him to give me the half hour drive home, so I never bothered to ask. As a result, I didn't arrive back at Union Station until past 10 pm at night, and thanks to the usual goddam GO Train delay, I didn't manage to arrive back at my own house until almost 12:30 pm at night. Combine that with the Iron Man 11 pm stuff the Tuesday before, and I sure as hell felt brain dead the next morning at work...

Friday I did my usual stuff of going out with my old high school friend, to dinner and the driving range and stuff like that. It's just that, I had recently bought a new Xbox 360 co-op game from Blockbuster (from their 25% off previous played games sale), Army of Two, and he and I were both starved for a new fucking game to play after countless hours of goddam Gears of War and Halo. So yeah, even though I was so goddam tired, he and I stuck in front of the ol' 42" Sharp Aquos screen until almost 3 am in the fucking morning. That was a long and tiring gaming session to beat a puny and punitive five hour game, but whatever, it was mostly worth it. Afterall, it's not like I would be busy Saturday or anything, right?...

Apparently, not so. My cousin called me up the next afternoon, and he was feeling both bored and a bit down from a certain disappointment in his life, so he asked if he could come over to play video games and naturally I said yes. So it was just the two of us again, playing Nintendo Wii games like Mario Kart and Smash Bros Brawl, and I was completely fucking dead by the time he left my house past midnight or something to that effect. Well, my pride was also hurting badly from losing to him every single round in Smash Bros, but whatever. I had sleep deprivation and goddam tiredness to use as excuses, right?...

Then came yesterday, when I expected my brother to simply come over for lunch and dinner and that's about it. It wasn't until late in the morning that I was told that we were going to have a whole family gathering, a Victoria Day BBQ if you will. So besides partially taking over the grill, I kept the patrons entertained with rounds of Mario Kart Wii with the motion controllers along with movies and other stuff. Everyone left by only 11 or 12 pm at night, but even still, after everything that I had been through this past week with friends and family and all, I was so fucking drained and so fucking spent by the time I finally got to bed...

Thank God I didn't have anything to do today but chores and to hit the driving range and get some frustrations out, otherwise I don't know how I'd be able to stay alive for the rest of this week, especially with a family wedding to attend this coming Saturday and all. Hell, what am I going to do about that, to be honest? I'm too fucking tired and lazy to dry clean my suit or iron my shirt, but I'll get into the details of that wedding shit when the date finally comes...

So yeah, by my standards at least, I've been rather busy while relaxing this past Victoria Day week and weekend. It was fun for the most part, as Iron Man was a decently respectable film, I had good discussions with my cousin, it's always great to see my brother and sister back home, and I can't argue with five hour play sessions of Army of Two with a friend. I just hate feeling so damn tired and lifeless and goddam listless for the rest of the day though. I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of life where I actually do something that does not consist of "nothing" every night. And hell, it's not like I'm going to restaurants and clubbing every fucking evening until 2 am or some shit like that. I'm just spending time with family, usually on a goddam couch, and already I'm feeling so goddam fatigued and exhausted. WTF?...

My normal nights consist of me being pretty much at home alone with the parents, at age fucking 26 by this point. All I usually do is browse the net, catch a sports game on television, and phone or message a few friends online from time to time. That's about it, that's about how boring and "nothing"-like you can get in life. But meh, that's my life for now, and it seems to work for me. I admit though, sometimes I wish I had more than that quite honestly, like more quality time with my brother, or having a caring girlfriend who means the world to me. But if the past week has been just a small sample of how damn much I get drained and lost from doing just a few "fun" things within a few goddam days of each other? Then uggh, I really am as introverted as they come, now aren't I?...

Ha, we'll see then how the wedding this weekend goes for me...

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

Well, actually, guess this past week has been for me, as busy as it was...

... but I'm just lucky I had this holiday to rest and recover from it all...

So Happy Victoria Day to all those Canadians out there...

... and Happy Memorial Day to all those down south in the 'States...

Wish we had more three day weekends, suffice to say...

... maybe then I'd have more busy weeks, that's all...

Y2kk Update: Alright, time to finally vent and admit my goddam mistakes...

I mean seriously, what else is this website for? You'd think by now I would've learned my lesson and simply not write any personal stuff online, especially considering how insecure I feel about somebody reading all the shit I vent about them behind their backs. And yet, I just keep on writing, half for therapeutic reasons, and half simply because I'm afraid of truly forgetting what I've done and who I am in life. For some damn reason, I have always considered myself being goddam secure in my goddam insecureness. I also feel that for everything I do wrong, there's something I do right in there as well worth considering...

At the end of March, I finally started to wake up and realize that my friendship with the girl formerly at my work was going nowhere. I had confronted her about how distant we had become through e-mail, and asked her if she could respond back to me once or twice every other week. What I really hoped for, was that she'd start writing back to me as a friend, like once or twice a week, if I truly did mean anything to her even as a goddam friend. It's a matter of closeness really, as to how quickly you respond back to someone, hoping they return the favour in kind. But even after I told her about all this, even after I was completely direct, she simply chose to follow my guidelines to the very least she could, literally writing me only once every other week, no matter the circumstances and no matter how quickly I wrote to her back...

I was getting sick and fed up of being the nice guy here, pining over the girl. I mean, I've always realized that women do not want doormats, that "cocky and funny" and simply being "confident and assertive" should be enough to get the girl. Well, obviously I didn't achieve the outward extrovertness required to actually get the girl in this case, as she laughed in my face when I told her how I felt last June...

If she was any other woman and if she and I were in any other circumstance, I would've just cut all ties and communication with her then and there. I mean seriously, how the fuck can I ever recover from an incident like that that my face? And she never tried to make it better, she never tried to repair the damage, no matter how close I tried to get to her from that point on. She just kept on shrugging her shoulders, rolling her eyes, and dismissing my feelings as if they were a burden to her. And really, it's sad to realize this, but I was just an annoyance and hindrance to her after all these months in that regard. She's been through this so many times before, a nice guy being extra nice to her simply because he has a damn stupid crush. I can't really blame her for just seeing me as the next failed suitor in line, now can I?...

Either way, with contact from her only coming once every two weeks even after I confronted her about it, I felt like I had nothing to lose. You two readers out there know that I always seem to live in the past, that I keep on reliving the same goddam trials and tribulations of the mistakes I've made with some sort of goddam memory spasm bullshit now and again. There are just so many things that I've wanted to tell her in the past, and so many goddam feelings I've wanted to release. I remember complaining to her about the whole "Best Buy" ordeal last July, and the "Going Away Card" incident that happened shortly before she left our company at the time. As much as I still shake my head at how badly she beat me down in both of those scenarios, at least I knew in my heart that being direct with her at the time was the best thing to do to save my own sanity and conscience. I wanted that same feeling for almost everything I was holding deep down inside at her, so without really thinking about the goddam ramifications of it all, I wrote her a couple of goddam honest e-mails out of the blue...

I tried to word my paragraphs as neutrally as possible. I meant every word I said more as an apology than an accusation, but I guess my repressed and lingering anger still managed to shine through. I told her in my e-mails about three 'minor' incidents that had happened between us, and all I wanted was to get an honest explanation as to what she meant during each of those times...

The first memory I just had to get off my chest was when she came over to my desk for morning stand-up at work, and then vehemently demanded to me to "say something, say anything", though about what I still may never know. She was just so angry with me that day, she could barely look in my direction without this fire burning in her eyes. So I simply asked her in my e-mail, what did she want me to say that morning, what did she want to talk to me about that day?...

The second memory I vented out to her about was from the time when she was leaving the company, and she claimed that "I lie", with such a disappointed look on her face and in her eyes. I'll never forget that moment, simply because it broke my heart that it seemed to me like I had honestly broken hers. So I asked in my e-mails, what did she honestly feel that I had lied to her about in the past? What did she want me to be more direct and honest about when we were together before?...

The third memory on my mind that I just had to get out was the most recent incident when we met up in the underground pathway, and I was simply too hurt to talk since she hadn't contacted me for weeks by that point. I finally had the courage to write to her that I was also upset at the time that she did not remember or ask anything about my sister's wedding, even though I had sent her e-mails about it prior with the date of the event itself. When I wrote to her about all this, I meant it far more as an apology than a questionnaire. I felt horrible for holding all these repressed thoughts within myself, and I was just hoping that she would understand why I was could barely talk to her that day, that's all...

But besides these three 'minor' events, there was one final thing I just had to get off my chest to her, one final memory that was eating me up inside that I just had to get out. For months and months, since goddam August of last year to be honest, I've never been able to forget the fact that I had asked this girl out to a lunch for the first time in weeks, and she couldn't help but invite a third party of a wheel at the very last second without consulting me. This was the incident at the Red Tea restaurant, where I was subjected and rejected and humiliated into being nothing but the outsider in the conversation between the both of them...

The way I reacted that day, and the way that she didn't even seem to care about what she had done, it truly did lead to most of the problems that would separate her and I for the rest of the following months we shared together. The very week after, she apologized in person for not talking to me much the past few days, and yet she never really bothered to speak with me again for months after the fact. I revealed all this to her, about how I still remember that very day and that I still remember her apology out of the blue. I just had to know, I just had to understand, why did she apologize, and what did she truly apologize for?...

Now, I know, I know. You two readers out there probably already figured out the outcome of these goddam emo-mails of mine to her. No self-respecting man should ever drudge up old painful stories from months in the past and use them against the person that they supposedly care about, right? I know, I know, I acted like a whiny woman in my e-mails, holding things against her for so long, and then blowing up when she absolutely least expects it. And yes, I realize how oversensitive I was in those situations, how overdramatic I made every moment we shared, and how truly overly-jealous I was every single second she turned to and talked to another fucking man. Still, I figured that since she and I were barely on talking terms at the time, what did I have to lose, right? Even if she ignored me, even if she never wrote me back, it'd still show me who she really is, how she really felt, and I hopefully would become goddam indifferent to it all. That's what I was hoping for perhaps, at least...

Well, she did write me back, much to my surprise to be honest. She wrote a long letter, and long e-mail in return that honestly shook me to the bone more than I ever thought was possible. Looking back, I honestly don't know why her words affected me so much. I mean, if it's just a silly little crush on her, why did I feel so damn scared and alone? But that night, that night that I read her e-mail in return, I couldn't sleep, I honestly couldn't sleep. My friend from the States was over at the time and I was dead tired that night, but after reading her mail, I honestly couldn't fall asleep until five am in the fucking morning. I was just so frightened, I was just so goddam remorseful, and I was just so fucking embarrassed at all I had said and was told in return. I just couldn't believe I admitted everything I had written to the woman who responded back like she did...

When I wrote my e-mails, like I said before, I was obviously still angry about a lot of these moments from our past, but I meant everything I said more as an apology than anything else. I was sorry that I held these things from her, and I was trying to prove to her (and prove to myself, to be honest) that I could be direct and honest with her from this point on. I wanted to prove to her that things could change, I guess, as this was really my last chance to speak with her if things did not improve. She had told me to "say something, say anything" all those months ago. And while I realize that it's foolish and dumbass for a man to follow-up on her words after all those silent weeks had already passed, I just couldn't help myself. I thought I had nothing to lose, but apparently I still fucking did...

She had told me long ago to "say something", and she was so angry while telling me that, as if I had hurt her somewhere dear so fucking badly. But now, in her e-mail in return, she claimed she doesn't even remember the incident, and that it obviously wasn't important if she didn't. She was just trying to be nice by telling me to forget about it, but even after her comments, not asking her about it at the time has become one of the biggest regrets in my life. Now I suppose I'll never know what she truly meant back then and what she was holding inside that morning, and now I'll for certain forever regret not having the guts to ask her what was wrong that day...

As for the "you lie" part? That's where she started sounding angry herself in her e-mail, calling me "oversensitive" and insecure and all the usual stuff that she's insulted me with in the past. The thing is, she never even bothered to comment on the lies that I had told her and possibly hurt her with in the past, even though I was essentially asking for forgiveness for those. Instead, she made a cutting comment that every time she asked me in the past if I was okay and I claimed that I was, I was lying since obviously I was never actually fine. Now, I can't argue with that logic because yes, that does constitute as lying. It's just that, I wish she actually did address the issue I had asked at hand (unless that was the only truth on her mind), rather than just using it against me to attack me back now...

For the underground pathway meeting bit, all I got were more attacks from her, claiming I had no guts and confidence to tell her what was bothering me at the time. I can't argue with that, now can I? I may have been trying not to incite a confrontation at the time, especially over something as worthless to her as remembering my sister's wedding. But if I really didn't want to accuse her of ignorance and negligence back then, then why would I bring it up now months later when I should've just dropped the issue long ago? I'm not saying she wasn't right in pretty much everything she wrote back to me in her long e-mail, it's just that I wish she did it in a way that considered the way I felt...

I keep on trying to convince myself that I meant those e-mails that I sent to her as an apology. I just wanted to get things off my chest to her, let her know the truth, and to be able to know how she truly would react to the way I felt about things. I wanted to know exactly who she is deep down inside, and it guess it really did scare me when I honestly did learn the truth. I won't bother getting into the details of what she said about the incident at the Red Tea restaurant or about her apology the week after, although from her wording, I could really painfully tell that I had annoyed and aggravated her so much with the words that I had sent her first. Before I had fatefully pressed that "send" button in my outbox, I had dreams and hopes that instead of hating me in return or simply showing her usual blind indifference, that she would realize that while I'm being pathetically insecure all over again, that I am trying to make a difference in terms of honesty, that I am trying to apologize in my own way. But I was a fool for believing that, I now honestly don't know what I was thinking...

I never meant to attack her with my comments, I never actually meant to accuse her for things. But she took it that way, and I can't really blame her for that, now can I? She told me in my e-mail that she can read between the lines, that she can see how I'm emotionally manipulating her, and that she doesn't owe me an explanation whatsoever. And to be honest, thinking back to what I wrote to her, I now really do see her point that I did sound like I was trying to hurt her, that I was trying to make her feel guilty. But when I wrote what I did, that was never my intention, though all because I don't intend to hurt someone, doesn't excuse me from the guilt that I still deserve. I obviously annoyed her badly with the e-mails that I sent out to her, and she even hinted in her e-mails that maybe this was the end of our friendship...

I was just so terrified and embarrassed after receiving her response, you know? I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think, I could barely even breathe. I had one of those epiphany moments later that night, the kind of which you feel like you're floating out of your body, realize just how woefully pathetic you truly are, and then scream "HA HA" at yourself as you face palm your own forehead. What on earth made me honestly believe that she would be forgiving to the whiny ass e-mail I sent to her? I suppose I was dreaming that if she really did have a latent crush on me, if we shared any sort of connection, that she would realize that I'm in pain instead of just increasing the embarrassment further. That simply was not the case in the end, however. I sent her those e-mails to see what kind of woman she truly is. Now I suppose she truly knows just what kind of man I am, and now I guess I do understand why she claimed long ago that she and I were not right for each other...

I'm not an utterly idealistic "nice guy" or anything. I've proven time and time again that I have my own asshole qualities, and I'm realistic enough to notice in my other geek friends' relationships that you can't let the girl walk over you like a doormat, that you can't worship them high on a pedestal as if you "only want to make them happy". At the same time though, it's only natural for a man of good nature to suddenly be even more kind and gentle and thoughtful to a woman whom he has feelings for. I don't blame myself for actually believing that this so-called girl of my dreams would reciprocate the same feelings I felt so damn strongly for her, as it's only human nature for a 'nice guy' to dare to dream. And I guess, that's why in the end, I don't regret writing her those two emo-mails, and I guess that's why I can't blame her for writing what she wrote back in return either. I am who I am, and she is who she is. Her response, it was a big wake-up call for me really. I still do care about her, but it was simply the final nail in the coffin for realizing that she truly does not feel the same way about me at all...

So what now? Where do I go from here? My birthday was April 20th, the day before hers, and I never got an e-mail from her whatsoever. I sent a birthday wish to her the following morning anyhew, barely got a three worded response back, and then I simply didn't care anymore. If she can't even remember the birth date of a "friend" the very day before her own, and if she doesn't even give a damn about that very same friend taking the time to remember her own birthday (even after the e-mail she had sent back a few weeks before)? Then what am I doing, bothering to try to win her hand and smile and sympathies? It was just another wake-up call, that's all. It was yet another further embarrassment, how I was putting her up on a pedestal and dreaming of a woman who was never actually real in the first place. My feelings for her didn't die or anything, but my perspective on her definitely started to narrow into something real. She simply is not the kind of woman I can deal with, not if she never finds moments and dates like goddam birthdays as important as I do...

And that was it, that was the end of it. I honestly thought that would be the last time I would hear from her. I mean, what else had to be said? I laid my cards on the table, I exposed to her literally everything I was and hoped for, and I put my goddam pride on the line to try to prove to her that I honestly do care. And what I did get in return, while perfectly honest and direct (and I thank her for that), it was simply not the response I was hoping for from a person that actually cares about my feelings. I appreciate the fact that she was so open and blunt. In a sense, that was her own way of showing that she cared. She just didn't care in the way I had hoped after all this time. If she ever wanted me, she would've taken me long ago when I felt the feelings were once there. There was nothing in it for me now, I didn't even think she could be my friend if she couldn't remember my own goddam birthday. So that was it, that was the end of it. I had heard and learned everything I needed to, and I was finally ready to move on. I honestly thought that would the last time I would ever hear from her again...

But she's always full of surprises, isn't she? And yeah, I admit, I was definitely caught off guard last week at the start of May, when all of a sudden and out of the blue, she started e-mailing me every single day of the week. I didn't and still don't understand why she would do such a thing. Perhaps she was just trying to make me docile and plant me under her thumb yet again, although I did get from her first e-mails a sense of remorse and guilt in her wordings. As much as she claims to be honest and direct, there's also a side of her that absolutely hates to be the bad guy. I don't think she has any feelings for me, I think she's just trying to accomplish what I did with my e-mails and simply satisfy her conscience. Still, it was nice to hear from her every single day again like we used to when I thought we were close. But I seriously doubt she will keep this up. Right now, I just can't trust her in that regard, and I don't know how long or how many letters from her it will take to win back that trust...

I still care for her. Even after that e-mail and all the silence, I still care for her far too much. She's still on my mind every morning and every night, but I know none of it is actually real. I still think of her every time I get turned on by another woman, which is sad enough to say let alone goddam live. I was surprised when I got her first e-mail last week, and was honestly quite happy by the third. But it's all a fleeting and sinking feeling, not knowing whether she's trying to make me feel better, or just concentrating on how she feels internally for her own self. Objectively, she's a great woman and there are still so many things I admire and adore about her. We both value the concepts of honesty and openness, but we just express it in such different ways that I don't know what I really want anymore. She told me long ago that we two weren't right for each other, and she told me in her response l that perhaps we shouldn't even talk to each other anymore. I don't know if I want to go down that path just quite yet, but that already was the way things were heading when I first sent her those two e-mails of mine...

And yeah, I know, I know, still thinking about all this e-mail emo bullshit is the wrong fucking way to ever get a girl. I know the story, I know the drill, "cocky and confident and funny" is what always gets the ladies riled up, especially if you're half an asshole to get your point across. Maybe one day, whether I want to be that person or not, I will become that bitter and jaded man. But for now, still in the present day, I am confident in my complete lack of self-confidence. I am who I am, and I am proud that no matter how pathetic I may sound to myself and the outside world, I still do what in my heart I truly do feel is right. I can't blame her for responding to my e-mails like she did, I can't hate her for my own unrealistic expectations and dreams. Whether she will continue to write me and we will continue to be friends, I don't know. I just know that it was for the best in the long run to get all these feelings out like we did, even after all these months later than we should have...

It's been a month and a half since I got her e-mail, it's been a month and a half since I couldn't sleep until five in the morning. And yeah, in retrospect, as goddam pathetic as I must sound to you two readers out there for writing to her what I did, I honestly do think that venting to her and only her really did help. I still think of those memories and situations from time to time that I had mentioned and written about, but they no longer make me cringe, they no longer haunt me and make me suffer the way they once did. I now know how the girl from my work truly did feel about those moments, and now I truly do know how she really does feel about me. The feeling of guesswork and uncertainty is finally gone, and yes, I suppose in the end, it was worth it all to get all this off my chest to the one person who I felt at the time that I could actually trust...

I don't know if this is finally the end of the story between the both of us. But in the end, I guess it no longer matters. Unless she and I both drastically change, then I suppose it really is true, that she and I will never be right for each other. Neither as friends, nor as anything more like I had once so often and so naively goddam dreamed...

It doesn't mean I don't care about her still. It doesn't mean I'll start denying my long-standing and ever lingering goddam feelings...

... but at the least, it does feel a bit better to finally have everything I harboured against her off my chest...

... it's good to know finally how she reacts and how she truly feels...

This is the very sense of relief that I wish I had felt last June, when I first told her my feelings...

... and finally, in the here and now, after all these months later?...

... well, she didn't laugh at me, but I guess I did...

... all good things...

Y2kk Update: Wow, am I ever fucking goddam sick...

Like I wrote in my last update, my brother and sister came over for my birthday, both sick as fuck in the stomach and throat. I was happy at the time, they sacrificed their health to be with me for my birthday, so that I wouldn't feel abandoned and alone like I do every single fucking year...

Problem is, I got infected by them and infected real bad. To be honest, I don't know when was the last time I've been this sick. I'm still a complete wuss in terms of physical activity, but I actually do sit-ups and push-ups and some blips of jogging from time to time, thinking that will actually improve my health somewhat. And maybe it has, as while I've been sick often during the past year or so, it's rarely ever been severe. But after this fucking fever I still fucking have, I best be getting that goddam flu shot that I refused to take for the past couple of years. I don't really have anything against the flu shot to be honest, I'm just too lazy to wait in a doctor's office for the goddam needle. I never felt like I needed it before, but if it could've helped me with this goddam sickness I have now, then I better get on with every fucking preventive measure I can get...

Normally when I'm sick, I end up coughing only when I'm on my two feet, usually with a horrid dry cough that keeps me drinking as much water as possible. But what has made this flu I've had so damn devastating this time around, is the simple fact that I keep on goddam coughing when I try to fucking sleep. Normally whenever I lay down when ill, that's the only time I can breathe properly and relax. Not this time however, as starting from Thursday night after my return from the Raptors game, every fucking time I lay my head down to rest, I start coughing up a storm and can barely keep my eyes closed without tears starting to stream down my face. It's ridiculous how little sleep I've gotten over the past fucking week. WTF?...

Thursday I had about three or four hours of slumber through my fever, and Friday I probably only got a goddam couple of hours of actual deep sleep in throughout the night. Saturday was the worst, as I couldn't even really sleep at all that evening whatsoever. Every single time I did doze off, I'd cough and literally wake up five minutes later. Sure, at first I felt "rested" since I dozed off at least a hundred times, but without the chance for any deep REM slumber, I literally felt dead on my knees by the time Sunday afternoon came rolling about...

I've tried so many home remedies during this time, or at least my father has shoved as many as he can think of down my throat. He's obsessed with Chinese herbal medicines, and he gets so angry at both himself and at me whenever they turn out to be lies that don't fucking work. He thinks that any random shit that he hears delivers miracles should cure me instantly, but that's just not how it works, especially when most of his herbal crap just makes me cough out harder and longer than before. He's gotten frustrated because apparently, by not believing in his goddam voodoo magical pills, I'm keeping myself sick while wasting all his money on medicines that really do work, or at least they do in his own mind. How is that I'm on two fucking hours of sleep here, and I'm getting blamed for not doing my job at getting better by my father? WTF?...

There are a few things that have helped to keep my cough under some sort of control. I tried sleeping upright one night, and that worked for maybe an hour or two, only for me to violently cough sometime later and bang my head hard and painfully against the wooden board on my bed. I better remember to try it on a recliner next time I do that, but I don't think I will attempt to sleep upright again unless I'm desperate. I didn't get any actual good sleep that way afterall, but at least it was a start. It helped to keep all the goddam mucus from building in my throat right away, for a brief moment in time at least...

The things that have helped me? Well, breathing steam from a humidifier helps to calm me down and relax my muscles, but like sleeping upright, it's only a matter of time until my body coughs and wakes me up violently all over again. The real way I actually did manage to get some goddam sleep, was a three pronged mix of a cup of orange juice first (which helps with both a wet and dry cough, in my experience), followed by a nice hot serving of honey lemon tea (the honey is especially useful for soothing the throat), and if required after all the relaxation attempts I could try, I always finally managed to fall asleep when I had a Cherry Halls in my throat...

I didn't think it'd work at first, a bunch of drinks that would keep me pissing up at night, along with essentially a piece of candy that I can choke on while it's melting in my mouth. But by keeping the Halls outside my teeth on the skirts of my gum, while obviously that couldn't have been healthy for my dental plan in the end, it kept my throat soft and manageable until I could finally and comfortably get to goddam sleep. It was the only thing that worked, and thank God I found something that did give me six or so hours of proper rest at night...

Of course, in the meantime, my father is completely upset at me for ruining his image of Chinese medicine by taking all these bastard remedies from the West, or at least that's what they are in his eyes. He can't stand that I claim Orange Juice helps soothe the throat when dried orange peels no longer do the trick for me. He shakes his head at the blasphemist thought of lemon honey tea actually working wonders for relaxation, even though he himself pours tons of honey into the herbal tea mixes that he loves to shove down my throat. And as for the Halls, he thinks that by taking that stuff, I'm ruining my body's delicate balance and immune system. Maybe it is, I dunno, but it's the only damn thing keeping me sane and asleep during the long restless night, so I don't fucking give a shit. This has been the worst fucking flu I've had in ages, and I'm just happy if I can get any fucking rest at all...

And of course, you two readers out there know that throughout the thick and thin of it all, while I'm coughing and hacking away at all the goddam phlegm in my throat, that I've also been goddam depressed over you know fucking who. Being dead in both bed and on my two goddam feet, I've had a lot of time to think to myself, and there's only one fucking person that keeps popping in and out of my goddam delirious mind. I wish I didn't think of her, I wish she wasn't the first and last person I thought of every single fucking day. The image I have of her in my mind, it's not even real, it's not even of the real her who flat out rejected me and laughed in my face almost a fucking year ago. But I can't help but keep her in mind during this fragile time, as it was one year ago from this day that I was going out on what I thought were dates with her. It was one year ago that I thought I had a chance at having my first ever girlfriend, of being happy for once that I found someone that I can care about and be with. One year down the road, instead of her, all I have is this goddam flu. How the fuck depressing is that?...

It's been hell for me this past fucking month. Whether I can't sleep from the fever, I can't get to sleep from my cough, or if I stay up awake and restless all night because I'm thinking and reeling from you know fucking who, the month of my birthday has exacted a terrible toll on my goddam soul. But finally it's over, the month is finally over, and hopefully this fucking flu of mine will be over soon too...

In the meantime, everything still seems to remind me of her and only her...

... especially how right now, I feel like such total fucking shit...

The more things change, the more things stay the same...

... just like last year, I'm still just as goddam alone...

A year ago, I had hope, false fucking hope. Thinking back, it makes me sick to the stomach...

... and now, I'm just plain fucking sick...

I just want it to be over. Maybe soon, it will be over...

... I'm just so tired... tired and so goddam restless...