trifle

My professor was discussing about psychology of peace and predictably my mind was busy wandering and MOPING into another world. However, the topic started to make sense with my present situation and my own ears brought me to listen to what she was saying, and her words stabbed me hard, right in my chest.

“Why was it easy, when we were kids to say sorry? And now that we are adults, parang dyahe na.”

Why the words killed me was not because I found it hard to say sorry, but it occurred to me that I was not growing up. In my little world, where no one understands me, where no one knows who I really am, where I am overwhelmed by my own insecurity and driven by feelings of inadequacy, I would always find myself in a corner mouthing SORRY.

If the next paragraph has something to do with my sentiments above, I am not sure.
Every thing that I LOVE doing – every big thing that happens to me – turns out to be a disappointment. Why misery has been coming and going is because everytime I find something that sets me afire, something that thrills me, would later turn out to be the reason of despair.

And I am starting to be afraid. Just afraid.
I am losing everything. More often than not, i lose those (that, who) have built a special place in my heart.