Carelessness.

Nut thought something bad happened to me. I'm okay, just that I haven't been in the mood to write in here. I wish happier things can happen but things aren't really happening the way I hope for. About an hour ago, I broke a bowl. It fell from my hands and broke into smithereens. Mom's feet had two cuts which bled and she yelled at me. I was secretly relieved that there were the pieces all over the floor and she couldn't move to hit me. There's always this phobia of being hit by her like in the past. It's a fear which catches your breath hard and you feel that you are planted firmly to the ground, too shocked to move.

Even so, I started to cry. My tears just fell and fell. I was sorry and I said I was sorry but what was broken was broken. What bled still bled. My only consolation was that we cleared up the pieces together and her wounds stopped bleeding after some time. I was just too tired to say more. Yes, I'm a good-for-nothing when it comes to clearing up broken pieces but I tried.

As I cried, I felt really tired. Here I was after work, mopping up broken pieces of a bowl, getting scolded by mom, wishing there was someone I could talk to and that someone would understand. But at that moment, I could think of no one but someone.

Someone used to care and understood. Everyday, we would share our lives with each other.

"How was your day?", "Hi!", "=)", that someone would say.

Even if it wasn't that great, it turned out to be wonderful after all. After all, someone made me feel that someone truly cared about how I was doing and no matter how shitty the day went, I looked forward to our conversations day after day.

It's a pity that good things never last. People move on, few friendships stay strong, what more could I expect? As much as I willed it to last, I never caught up with the speed at which it was ending. We stopped talking altogether because of some factors I never got to know fully. There were many questions floating in my mind but up till now, I never really got any answer. What more can I do but try harder to sweep up the broken pieces?

It was a short but precious experience of sharing part of my life with someone who genuinely cared about how I felt emotionally.

When will I meet someone like someone again?