At what point do you stop talking about anything?
When you don't have much to say, or when your thoughts become so personal, you rather keep it private lest it be read by other people and the outcome is many hurt parties. I learnt from journalism class that there's many sides and many angles to a story, and because this blog is my own, I've ignored journalistic conventions and go with my own side, and my own angle.
But there's the constant worry that one day someone will read what I wrote and get hurt.
Also, I could blame Facebook, its more than sufficient to post status messages, and photos on there, and blogging becomes an effort because you're doing things twice. A person have to draft a blog on her mind, arrange sentences and so on, whatever it takes to write a piece that's publish-worthy. Anyway.
This time, I'd say my silence is from the fear of hurting people, of announcing to the world my every move and action, and the self-absorption that so plagues us Internet-folks who embraced the "me, myself and I-itis" of the Internet.
The last week since I've been back, I've been very conscious of ranting to Tim, sometimes half-angry, half-sad, more than often slightly teary too, about the friendship I mentioned on my last blog. Seemed like the situation is the same, one can say we've reached a stalemate, as worst things happened and no discussing ensued.
Tis so easy to just say "I care, I care", but its the actions that mattered in the end. Things had changed, through her choices and my actions, and this time it felt like it's too late.
It's too late, too much damage done to patch things up. There's a big thorn in my heart. I've always knew when a fight's just a fight and things will be okay in due time, but this time it felt final. Like as if it's a break-up and this really is it. I cannot imagine things going back to how it was, and that it's already too late.
I don't think I care anymore. My love and respect fizzled out. It's really sad, it's really final and brutal, but it's just too late.