I am sorry, I wrote it in my blog. I'm sorry. My blog is the only place I express my heart out. I am sorry. I have nobody to hear my stories. I don't wish to see the world any more.

I am sorry people. I didn't mean to be sombong. I didn't mean any thing. I am broken. I am sorry if I hurt everyone. I will just walk out of everyone's life. tc . Bye

Nothing Last Forever, I'm Sorry I can't be Perfect.

So, I am gonna tell you what I wrote in my diary. What I felt. So, you wanna know my answer?How am I suppose to answer to that question? How? It's like you are trading your heart. I have no idea what should my answer be. I know you're fed-up with me. It's ok, It's alright. You said you understand my feelings? How well do you understand me?You never know how much I miss you. You never did. You're busy? I'm busy too, with schools, tuitions, sports, music and etc. You're studying? I am too. It's okay you text me at 10.30pm or what, but can't you ever inform me that you're busy? Is that a big request? Is that so hard? You always make me wait, wait and wait like an  idiot.  I wouldn't mind if you are busy but you never inform me. You always ask, why do I off my hp? I don't want false hope. Each time, my hp beeps I always hope it was you, but it wasn't. It was paalhan, daddy, vish or some other people. The only reason I reply Paalhan msgs is because he is the only person I could share my probs with. If I was to ever tell you, you'll be sleepy already. So I share everything with Paalhan. From, my school, to teachers, to friends, to enemies even about my family all I tell to him. Sometimes I wish it was you who cheer me up.But it was Paalhan. When I talk bout him to you, you hate it.  You have many probs?Can't you share it with me?  Perhaps you think I would never understand your problems. I should have open my hand-phone around 3pm. I shouldn't have blog about the Perfect bf if I was to know your msg would be amazing. You know what, Roshy was correct, I will only make you suffer. I'm letting you go. You deserve some other girls. Don't have to feel guilty. It's my fault.  Tc.