This is not my 100th post.
It is the previous post.
And I only realized that after I hit the Publish button.
You published your 100th post.
“Writing is a struggle against silence.” – Carlos Fuentes
“The world always seems brighter when you’ve just made something that wasn’t there before.” – Neil Gaiman
Somehow, arriving at this benchmark makes me relates these two.
The coward in me is still not confident about her English, let alone publishing something. But the confident me is sure about continuing this journey.
Good luck, me!
I found out that to hurt someone we love is so easy. We don’t have to hurt them with words. We don’t have to hurt them by rejecting them. We just have to self-destruct.
I found out that when someone I love self-destruct, it is much more painful and unbearable than when that person hurt me directly with words. Because when someone self-destruct, they usually don’t realize. Logically, people don’t self-destruct. Only unreasonable people self-destruct – when clouded by overwhelming emotions.
How queer love makes human react. When we get hurt by someone we love, we can bear it. When someone we love hurts him/herself, we find it unbearable.
They have been best friends for a long time, longer than they care to count. They are confidantes to each other.
She is not in good terms with her father. Always having to follow her father’s rules, she dreads to get out of his way. But she couldn’t because it is a promise that she had made. She had promised to stay.
She always tells stories about she and her father. He would listen attentively. Sometimes, offering suggestion when she asks for it.
One day, it just dawned on her. Something peculiar yet never came to her mind before. So she asks, “Why do you never speak about yours?”
He smiles and says, “Oh… He’s fine. But he’s rarely around.”
She runs out of words to say.
He clears his throat and continues, “You know… At least yours are always around.”