The End Of You And Me | BOOK 1 (Completed) & 2 (Currently Writing)

TEOYAM | 06. Disconnected

I hate promises. People never really keep them anyway. One way or another, everyone has broken a promise they made.

I'm no different.

I'm not going to say that I have kept every promise I have made in my life because that is a lie and I don't lie. I'm bad at everything else, but if there's one good thing about me, it would be the fact that I never lie. There was once a time when I made promises I can't keep too.

Just like that time I promised my mum that I will behave at Andrew Vanderbilt's 13th birthday. I didn't keep that. For one, I spiked the drinks and got everyone drunk. That same night, I lost my virginity at a game of drunk seven minutes in heaven with the birthday boy himself. Seven minutes turned into about thirty minutes so we had to shift to another game because our turn apparently took too long. I was only twelve then.

There was also that time on my sixteenth birthday when I flashed a cop to get out of jail time for over speeding and DUI. Mostly, for DUI. I didn't land myself in jail, fortunately. Sadly, however, that incident didn't make the cut for my episode on MTV's My Sweet Sixteen. I think it had something to do with my actions being too wild for MTV. Can you believe that? I'm actually too wild for the channel that invented the Jersey Shore and Jackass, they had to cut out some (okay, a lot of) scenes just for it to be safe for public viewing on the television.

Maybe I'm at fault, but I'm not completely the one at fault. See, growing up in a world where people who only earn millions are viewed by many as middle class, a world where people will do absolutely everything to get ahead of everyone they know in the social hierarchy, you learn that promises should never be taken seriously. You'd be completely foolish to believe it when someone makes you a promise. But of course, once upon a time, I was a foolish little girl who had hopes and dreams too. I used to see the good in people, and I learned the hard way that you shouldn't have so much hope for people or humanity. The worst part was, I learned from the people who were closest to me.

When I was only twelve, my brother, Vince, started studying at a boarding school in England. It was his personal choice. My brother and I share a very close relationship. Unlike other siblings who fight all the time, Vince was my best friend. He was the Tony to my Effy. Everyone else can disappear, but as long as we have each other, we can live. That was how it always was. When he first got drunk and had a really really bad hangover (he was puking everywhere. What a wimp, I know), I was the one who covered for him so mum and dad won't fry his butt. When I lost my virginity, he was the first to hear about it. I literally texted him right after. We were just that close.

He promised me that he will come home every year and that he will be there on my thirteenth birthday. He wasn't. He didn't even call until a week later, apologizing, saying that I will understand his reasons for not coming home. I did understand, but it didn't make the situation any better. He had the chance to escape this hell hole and he took it. I would've done the same if I didn't care so much about the people at home. He was only fifteen then. He visited New York eventually when he was eighteen. It was for fashion week. Yeah, my brother is a big time model now. He became the face of Armani Exchange at seventeen and that was the start of his very successful modeling career. Did I see him that time he came back? I did. Did we talk? Not so much. We ate dinner at Nobu then parted ways. I didn't text him take care when you go back to London or bid him goodbye. I didn't even ask how his life was.

I guess I didn't want to hear any promises coming from him-- or anyone, for that matter. I didn't want to hope on something that will never happen anyway. Whether it was a promise people made to themselves or someone else, it doesn't make much of a difference. Point remains, promises are meant to be broken.

However, that fact has never stopped me from hoping that that person who made me a promise will keep their promise and prove me wrong-- very much like everyone else who has been made a promise by someone. We all hope, whether we want to admit it or not, that one day someone will come our way and prove our beliefs wrong and be the reason why we stop being so cynical about life. We sugarcoat things and call it "being realistic" because I guess that's easier than admitting the truth to ourselves. The truth is we really are just bitter and negative about things because we are hurting inside. We think we are entitled to act upon the pain we feel because all our lives people have been giving us reasons not to believe in others anymore. We refuse to accept this reality because we don't like being vulnerable. We don't like letting people have the upper hand, especially when it comes to our emotions. And that's okay. Or at least that's what we tell ourselves.