2009-09-24 - 5:05 a.m.
I think I kind of twisted my left arm the wrong way while rinsing so many clothes yesterday afternoon. It still hurts, but somehow - I don't mind the pain.
It's still manageable. Gigi once said that - unlike her - I'm more physically fit and strong. I don't get sick easily like her, and I can still show up at work with a climbing fever and still function pretty well. (Not good, I know, but here - most of my people don't take flu seriously until somebody dies from it. H1N1? Yes, that's what I'm talking about.)
Mom suggested that I get a haircut. Good idea. She said I always looked old, serious and sad with longer hair. I look much better with shorter hair, despite my boyish-looking face.:P
When she said that, I knew she wasn't just talking about my hair. It's hard to conceal things from her these days, especially when you're this mentally exhausted. (And even when you claim to be emotionally numb, the strain in your expression is palpable - and you hate it.) But don't get me wrong, we're hardly like the kind of mother-daughter when you can cry on your mother's lap when somebody breaks your heart. It's her and my sister, not me. I've always been more like her strange, tortured artist she's been trying to understand the best way she knows how. I'm more like my brother. It's always been that way.
Tiger's finally found someone else, which has been expected. Somehow, I'm not that surprised anymore. Having known him for five years and more, I can truly understand him. I know that's what he really needs.:) It's okay.
Then what about me?
Well, I'm still alive, am I not? After all, I'm also still his best friend. All I know is that I don't want him to worry about me anymore. He has every right in this world to be happy.
I'll be fine. Don't worry.
The Author
