Sunday, May 27, 2007
I've been having this thought on my mind (not-so) recently. I am responsible for my own well-being. Such a simple thing, yet it took me so long to figure it out. I am responsible for everything I feel and think. So I should not let what others do (intentional or not) affect me. Because what others do, they do it with their own well-being in mind, and not mine. So it's up to me to realise that there's no point getting hurt over what other people say/do because they don't realise how it affects me.
Perhaps the point of it all is that I'd wish that maybe someone out there really cared, like really cared about what I think and not ask after me for the sake of asking. And maybe I should just stop thinking that I'm always the victim. Because in interacting with other people, their ideas must come first. Their feelings must come first. My role is to accomodate and to listen and to encourage, but never to rant. It's alright though. I'm more than used to it. Just that I hate the disappointment everytime I think that someone who really cares has finally appeared, only to realise that once again, I'm so very wrong. And with each time it happens, I just despise myself even more for allowing that moment of weakness which results in simply, regret.
The easiest way for me to cope with life is to simply, smile. It's not an inward expression, but rather, a superficial gesture which will not cause anyone to be suspicious. Smiling allows others to think that everything is well with me. It suggests to people that I have nothing to worry about, and thus, they have no obligation to do so for me either. Besides, smiling comes easily to me most of the time. Expecting anyone to look beyond the face is an absolutely ridiculous thing to do, since I can't do that for others either. It's being realistic. Expect others to do lesser than what I would do for them.
Ah well, that's life. Life of one me who is inapt at caring enough for others so that others might incidentally reciprocate. But it's fine. It's my life. My feelings. My problem. Not yours.
Perhaps the point of it all is that I'd wish that maybe someone out there really cared, like really cared about what I think and not ask after me for the sake of asking. And maybe I should just stop thinking that I'm always the victim. Because in interacting with other people, their ideas must come first. Their feelings must come first. My role is to accomodate and to listen and to encourage, but never to rant. It's alright though. I'm more than used to it. Just that I hate the disappointment everytime I think that someone who really cares has finally appeared, only to realise that once again, I'm so very wrong. And with each time it happens, I just despise myself even more for allowing that moment of weakness which results in simply, regret.
The easiest way for me to cope with life is to simply, smile. It's not an inward expression, but rather, a superficial gesture which will not cause anyone to be suspicious. Smiling allows others to think that everything is well with me. It suggests to people that I have nothing to worry about, and thus, they have no obligation to do so for me either. Besides, smiling comes easily to me most of the time. Expecting anyone to look beyond the face is an absolutely ridiculous thing to do, since I can't do that for others either. It's being realistic. Expect others to do lesser than what I would do for them.
Ah well, that's life. Life of one me who is inapt at caring enough for others so that others might incidentally reciprocate. But it's fine. It's my life. My feelings. My problem. Not yours.
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