I need to get one thing straight with you before you read this-- We aren't friends. I write because I need to, you read because if I feel like you're missing, like no one's reading, I probably won't write anymore.
God knows I'll go insane if I stop.
I just can't have you believing some false pre-tense that we may be similar. We aren't, and I don't want us to be. I don't want to have connections. That's not who I am, that's not how I'm comfortable. It's not how I function.
I have to write down the things that have been happening lately, because well, it's been a constant shit show. First, there was the guy at the cafe, then the guy who showed up inside my house at 2 am, and now I feel like... I'm feeling.
I don't FEEL things.
I haven't felt since the accident, and I don't prefer to. Ever since then, I've changed. I just try to make it through each and every day, breaking routine would be weird, but here it is. It's happening, and it's messing me up.
It's like there's two of me-- Who I am now, and someone else who's crying out inside of me. But I don't want to be her. She hurts, and I am indifferent. She's not somebody I want to be.
A Maybank and A Cameron? It's almost like a modern Romeo and Juliet. It's forbidden for them to be together. Could be the end of the world.
The stolen glances, the hidden feelings, the unspoken words, the secret meetings and the obvious hatred towards each other followed by constant conflicts and some hidden past that threatened them but there are always invisible strings tied and pulling them together no matter how hard the tides trying to pull and part them away from each other.