Eat My Thoughts

Hello, sad and lonely world which is at the same time so full of life.
Unfortunately, I don't think I'm slipping into a coma, so I guess I'm being emotionless again.
I know I haven't updated my blog for quite some time, but that's just me, I guess.
I suppose there is plenty to talk about, and I'll get on to that later.
For now, I'm just gonna write down how I feel. Well, a blog is still a form of a diary, so I guess this counts as... therapy?
So yeah, Christmas is almost coming, and I SHOULD feel happy. It's probably my favourite holiday of the entire year.
But this Christmas.. I can't help but think.. Why am I not happy?
Maybe I'm just too afraid. Too afraid to talk to that one person.
Constantly running away, in order to escape a painful rejection, knowing that maybe how I perceived that person was just.. a dream. A form of imagination. A listless wish.
Forever on my Christmas list, but so, so out of reach.
And whenever I muster up the courage, I ask myself: Is it worth it? What kind of reaction would I get? What if it causes more pain? More pain than I could ever bear, knowing that I thought I had something special.
And what if that "special something" was just another figment of my imagination, however real it may have seemed?
A few weeks ago, these thoughts didn't even bother to surface. I was perfectly happy, thinking "this was it".
And then I made the decision to come clean, tell the truth. And all I get so far is coldness.
I don't want to make assumptions. But for once, couldn't you try talking to me? Instead of me constantly trying to talk to you. Crying silengly, but you would never know.
Everything you do, everything you say, I actually notice to the point it's almost as if I can never get to you. Instead I'm just hanging off the cliff, hanging on to you, waiting for you to pull me up and save me.
But you don't.
Wow. This IS therapy.
So OK. I have decided.
I'm gonna go talk to you. And if I get a response, it's a good thing right?
And if I don't? Maybe someone's kooky way of trying to tell me that it's not time yet.

Yours with a cherry on top,
Qi Cheng.