YVSON

Look back and toast : “To our lost youth”

They say time will ease all the pains, I doubt that. The pain of regret - the more time passes, the deeper it sinks in the loop of self-hatred. 

There’s a silver ring on my ring finger. It was a gift from Mack when we were seventeen. We were best friends even though - now I realized - I felt more than I should have towards him at the time.

I have no fear confronting my feelings. In grade 12, I told Daniel from the hockey team I was attracted to him, and in my first year study of business administration, I told Julien I adored him.

To me love is always bitter-sweet, a burden of thought, yet an embrace and acceptance of each other’s flaws, and it sublimates the bodies and minds into one - this is my understanding of love.

However, I have never been loved. And frankly, I have never loved anyone. perhaps because of that, my definition of love sounds too… idealistic? I simply couldn’t believe love can be extracted from a life of a twenty something year old person. At least I think time and experience couldn’t allow them.

I have never been jealous of my friends’ love life. Although, I am jealous of what they could look back in the future and toast: “To our lost youth.” - the sharing the sense of history of their prime.

I am afraid one day I will look back and couldn’t find memories of myself ever live for; regretting.

Adam touched her while he was looking at me as if he was trying to demonstrate something, showing me how to transfer the attractiveness of a woman to become the desire of men; how to be passionate about such creation.

I should start writing again.

Agrhh. I must say, its quite disappointed when I found out kaidan admired Shepard as a good friend at the dinner. Where is the gooddamn romance? I don’t wanna replay the whole thing again…

I want to embrace him and take a deep breath.

I told him and he knew, back then I adored him. And now I start to think whether if I have been abusing such awareness of him.

I want to promise him an adventurous summer, smile at him, smell his skin and maybe sleep with him. Sleep with a man.

I don’t like him but the idea of him.
That is my final excuse.

Delusion

In my final exam of International Marketing, I wrote:

“The freedom of choice is a delusion.”