Under the bridge is me home.

I think to myself: Screw Valentines. Screw couples walking all over the place, flashing smiles to each other, holding roses on one hand and the other on another’s. Screw couple platters and set for 2’s in restaurants; teddy bears packed with chocolates and pink hearts on display shelves. Screw February 14.

I don’t know which one is worst. Loosing a boyfriend, or never having one. Somehow I think the latter would do me better now, for loosing someone isn’t only about loosing, it’s about the consequences that affects you like a trail of scent, covering the very air you breathe in. And then let’s not forget the break-up pounds I’ve put on, my jeans screaming omg another size up! Hurray to the new record of size 10! Maybe I can continue this waistline expanding thing and before you know it I can get Levi’s jeans for only 10 dollars! They only have size 12 and 14 for those.

And then I go and get another cupcake. Gobble down the last piece of green tea chiffon. Nowadays I want to cup my hands on both ears and run out of the room when mom talks to me. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t like talking to her, but since recently all she ever talks about are serious matters. Like my overseas insurance health card, or how I should manage my finance, how much I spend on this and that each month and how much is the excess, or how troublesome it is now that I have to sleep under the bridge for 2 weeks when I get back to Melbourne, and she has to elaborate in detail every kind of pain coming my way, as if I did not already know. Maybe I don’t, but her reminding me of how bad the situation is certainly doesn’t help much but add on to my mountain of panic. I want to dive into the pool, flushing out all the must-dos and problems out of my life. They’re like the contents inside Pandora’s Box, but I do not remember uncapping the lid. Change address, connect phone line, buy furniture, manage bank account, attend uni, cook, make new friends and keep old ones, ADDAPT… I have been doing this for one year (except the friends part) I don’t know why the thought of having to do it again nauseate me. I love Melbourne, if only everything that has to do with it doesn’t seem like it want to put me under depression.

And then I’m back to ground zero. Wondering why happiness has never come easy for me like it had with others. Independence is something I've gained from it, the pursuit of happiness wtf. I can be happy while watching movie alone, is that independence or miserable? But I was happy the last time I did it wor, which is right after the break-up. I know, I’m cuckoo.

I’m beginning to think that I am undergoing some sort of depression. Every time someone calls me out I give them the automatic response of “I’m not free, maybe next time” and then crawl under the sheets with a book and some snacks. It’s like I’ve developed some sort of phobia going out. And then I occasionally loose patience during group outings, thinking why my friends can’t be more UNDERSTANDING and getting mad because no one seems to understand me, later on I rethink and wish I had been quieter and my face didn’t look like someone who just killed. Ha! I’m becoming an expert in sabotaging my own life.

I just saw something funny. Chin Fei’s MSN nickname: Valentines Day is also known as Single Awareness day. Okay I’m going to stop on that Valentines Day crap. See? Why can’t I be like him, cheerful and bubbly all the time, as if nothing in the world can put me down as long as I laugh it off?

Okay I’m going to change my MSN nickname: Under the bridge is my home. Take that!