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15 September 2016 @ 10:58 pm
Sep '16 half-month  
I won't take back my words from a number of days ago that my boyfriend, at that moment, was a better listener than my mum. But I, as much as I am to be a caring girlfriend, can't be helped but be bothered by his decision to not meet this Saturday instead. He has his reasons, albeit weak ones in my eyes. I have not seen him since the kitchen incident, and it is a disappointment not to be given the time to let me sink in and see him and in turn let the incident sink furhter as well.

I am still not comfortable with my mum, I am still disappointed, despite her doing many actions since she came back, most of them after my aunt and her friend left. She came back to eat together, and others. It's even touching to receive the card that she sent in Vietnam, unfortunately it arrived only now. The timing is bad, really. It would have been much consoling and feeling-appropriate if I had gotten this a while ago. Perhaps I wouldn't have felt so bad and so sorry for myself.

I feel a gap with every one of the people that I have told the kitchen incident about, of which based on many circumstances, none have fully given me, or be able to provide me the support, level of understanding, and expression of empathy to get over it.

I silence myself. I have not had a hug with mum since the standard one at the airport. I am aware of how much time I am spending with myself, but I do not want to pander to being with my mum more as well because of the emotioal gap that I still have with her. She mesages but I don't reply - there's no point in responding fyis anyway, the plans have already been made.

I still feel like crying, but it is no longer solely about the overwhelming sense of fear and helplessness from the kitchen incident. It's about the follow-up, what happens with my expectations. It's from the hits of disappointment that time, listening and the kind of concern I want is not given to me by whom I deem the closest. Excluding today and yesterday, I have been tearing at night for two to three days straight, they were uncontrollable. Now that work has started and consumed me again, I am not sure if my heavy workload is masking my emotions, or that I am slowly putting my emotions down, or that I'm just getting used to the system.

I do not park my emotions in a shelter; I'll take it with me no matter how heavy they are, if I need to.