Being in this situation, feeling like hitting the rock bottom, and wanting to crawl back to where I was before I met him, I just felt the urge to do something stupid. I just want to be stupid once without anybody will judge what I do.
I want to just throw myself again to a serial dating, and using the term that was found by a friend of mine: going for a sexual rampage to make myself better. At least for the meaningless 30 minutes of ooh and aah, I would feel wanted. But no.
If that goddamn little wooden boy pinocchio had that jimminy cricket nagging about what he’s doing. I have ten people poking my conscience. Dammit this might be the first time I feel sorry for having conscience.
One of a friend offered me his help, asking if he could be my rebound guy. Yes I did accept his offer, for a day, and then I decided not to continue using him. And you know why? Yes because of that goddamn conscience, that’s why.
I just think, whatever I do, I want to do it for the right reason. I know some people who does thing for the wrong reason, and it kills them. It makes them miserable. I don’t want to be one of them. It’s like my life isn’t miserable enough?
But, this breakup? I don’t think I did it for the right reason. That’s why I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for what happened, and I can’t deal with it very well. I never knew his reason, and it’s killing me.