So here’s my story..
As a kid, I never feel loved. Dad was very hard on us, both me and my brother. I remember one night I made him really angry. He yelled at me and made me cry. I guess he was pissed because I was crying so hard, so he decided to lock me up in the bathroom. I was just a kid, around 4 years of age. Dad turned the lights off and yelled for the last time, before he walked away from the door. I cried, shouted, and banged the door with both of my hands. After what felt like a century, Mum finally opened the bathroom door.
I remember whenever I did something to annoy Dad, he wouldn’t think twice to hit me with something. His fancy belt that he wore everyday to work, the wooden duster from the bathroom. Anything.
When I was in seventh grade, I liked someone. A lot. He was tall, smart, and cute.. for a seventh grader, but I was this nerdy-looking, awkward thirteen year old girl. We were friends, before he knew I had feelings for him. When he found out I liked him, he decided to stop talking to me. He said to his friends that I wasn’t good enough for him.
So I tried to change myself. Tried to change the way I dress, the way I talk, the way I look. Tried to study harder, so that he’ll like me.
…but nothing changed. He still didn’t like me. That’s when everything started.
I decided I wanted him to see that I didn’t feel a thing for him anymore. So what I did was, I pretended to like someone, tried to get close to him, and once he liked me, I left him. Why did I do that? Simple, I wanted to feel loved. Even though I knew it was fake, a sham, I didn’t care. Guys liking me made me feel better about myself.
But it didn’t work.. I still had feelings for the guy that I liked back in seventh grade. Took me three years to finally get over him. But I wasn’t done with playing with guys’ feelings. This continued on to high school..
At home, it wasn’t pleasant as well. Mum was always bugging me about school and she wouldn’t let me go out. She wouldn’t let me hang out with my friends during the weekends, except for going to birthday parties. Even if she let me went out, she would call me once every hour to check when I was going to go home. It was embarrassing and I hated my mum for that.
When I was in eighth grade, I decided to stop trying too hard for schoolwork. There seemed to be no point; if I got bad marks, Mum would get angry. If I got good marks, she would still be angry, demanded me to get better marks. I hated being at home.
I knew this guy from school. We’ve known each other since middle school, but we were never in the same class. He was, still is, a bass player. We did a lot of projects together in high school. I guess it was because of all the times we spent together, to get to know each other, we fell in love. I’ve never felt that much about a guy before.
But life happened. After graduation, we both moved to go to uni. I went down under, he went all the way north to America. We spent a year with 19 hours time difference. He was caught up in his new life, new friends, new uni, and other stuff. He learnt to live without me. I wasn’t important anymore.
My thoughts were, if you love someone, even if you are busy, you’d make time for them, right? I would be so happy if he’d just spared a minute to say ‘Good Night’. Or ‘I love you’. But I guess he was too busy, too tired.
And now?
Same thing. Everyone’s just too busy, too tired to care. Too worn out to listen, to swamped to ask ‘How’s your day been?’ or just say a simple ‘Good Night, I love you.’ I tried being patient, I tried caring. Because yes, do to others what you want others to do to you. It doesn’t work. Lately I find myself thinking you know what Niki, no one cares. Even if I disappear, no one would notice anyway. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to care, how hard you show people you love them, they would just find ways to attack you so you’ll feel that what you do is wrong. So why bother.
Sometimes I feel it’s better for me to not exist at all. To just go away to a different place, where no one knows me. There’s no difference anyway.
My craving is love.
