I am not sure how to classify a day like this.

I started typing and ended up abusing the backspace more often than I should. It is a day I am no good with talking much, and maybe my space here spares me a little liberty to do so, so I can finally, stop my shaking hands with all those things bottled up.

Endlessly running around while high on cough syrup, pacing every single mall whilst trying to get things going. Somehow the adrenalin kept me going, and I didn’t stop.

When I had to force an end to it when the shops closed, all I felt was just utter emptiness and plenty of fatigue.

This, is how it feels like, fatigue, and exhaustion.

All the rushing, all the walking.. it was refreshing, and my mind wasn’t thinking much else.

And then, I started feeling like an awkward figure standing in a place where I don’t fit in.

And the occasionally shopping spree I allowed myself to indulge. It should have been a productive and happy day. Yes, new shoes, new dresses, and a new planner for me to put my aims and goals into writing. So what?

I enjoyed the pretty girls’ company, and I had a glimpse of what are to come. I was excited.

I turned down a dinner invitation cos… I simply didn’t feel up to it. I could have sat elsewhere and break down and cry, yet all I did was venturing to the nearest foodcourt for my first meal of the day.

I didn’t want to explain myself, cos I am just.. afraid.

I walked to the door of the eatery, and I turned my back and walked away, it was easier.

And then, accusations were thrown at me. All I wanted to do, was to return home and hide. I need my rest. I need my space. I need to be away. I need to be at some place where my stress doesn’t bite.

So. I didn’t bother with answering my phone.

The irony.

Everything that happened, bit. Bit too harshly, cruelly, and ruthlessly.

I bit down my tongue for all that I could have, and wanted to say. But it wasn’t a night like this. The moon and ride were too pretty.

Trouble I am, the joke was brought up once too often. Oh yes baby, you have no idea.

I bit my lips in the car ride back so I wouldn’t succumb to tears with what he said. But I know I shouldn’t explain. Some things, are better left the way it is.

Somehow I wanted to say I hope the ride wouldn’t end, yet I thought the better of it.

I couldn’t wait to escape to my safe haven, and then I heard the dark figure before I saw him coming up behind unexpectedly.

Well done. Just what I needed. I couldn’t be bothered. The more I wanted to run. But something told me not to. The friend who was offering my comfort, and a ride back, was still there.

Just before the doors closed, my instinct dragged my already exhausted body out, and marched up.

It was plenty of shoving, pushing, and I saw the rage in his eyes clearly. I didn’t know I had spare energy within me to grab someone’s shirt till I felt my nails in my flesh.

I didn’t know I have that side of me in me.

Who are you to do that to my friend?

Who are you to insult my friend?

And who are you?

I took all the might in me and assertively etched the words out, “I. DON’T. EVER. WANT. TO. SEE. YOU. AGAIN.”

That sentence, repeated in my mind over and over again throughout the night. And the “stay away for a week, give me some peace, please” plea apparently didn’t work.

Don’t tell me you reacted certain way cos I didn’t say something. I said it too many times, but you didn’t listen.

If only you listen, not hear.

I couldn’t speak later. I called for help. I only kept shivering as I coldly muttered, “Don’t come near me.”

Cold. Shivering. I didn’t stop that throughout the night, even till now. I am still crying for help internally. My fingers still trembling with…. rage, or is that disappointment?

I won’t cry. I can’t cry. Cos I am cold. I am supposed to be cold.

I am sorry I allowed it to happen.

I am sorry I could only imagine the hurt on your face as you inched away, away from the spot where people tend to inch out of my life.

I am sorry I could only watch in utter horror the scary eyes, and couldn’t find the words to say.

I am sorry I could only be cold, as I see you on bended knees. Why? Why did I feel absolutely nothing?

“If it is a game you are playing, I am at the losing end.”

No games, darling. No games. Not with you, not with him, nor him. I hate to be manipulated by games.

Honestly, I am physically, mentally, and emotionally empty now. Cos it had ebbed away, drained away, bit by bit.

Everyone played a part, and I am sorry I am just trying to protect myself, cos saying how my intention was to protect you guys from the start from “Trouble” may seem too fake, too hypocritical.

Each other, is just a convenient target, cos it all started, and all it was, was me.

Sorry I lacked the energy and patience in me to pick up the call earlier this evening.

And sorry that, now, I simply lack the courage to do so.

And sorry I was that close of finding my old self back, and now she is going away again.

And sorry, I am going away.

From all of you.