I've never had anyone who desired me romantically. Ever since I knew what crushes were, I've had countless crushes on different boys. They didn't even have to be particularly good-looking -- I've had crushes on boys who had simply said 'hi' to me or just be a kind person. In primary school, I feel like I switched crushes every few days. Of course, children get crushes all the time. The thing is that I've never been on the receiving end of one -- from back then until now. I've always thought that it was because I didn't fit the beauty standard in Malaysia -- fair-skinned, large doe eyes, a petite figure. I was tan, with smaller eyes, and I was self conscious about my crooked teeth. The friends I made growing up all seemed to fit the beauty standard in some way. I always thought that in every friend group I was in, I would be the ugliest and therefore be able to make my friends look prettier. My best friend growing up seemed to have interested boys a...
sometimes i wonder if my parents regret having me. i think if they read this they would feel very hurt. but i can't help but wonder - was i worth all the pain and distress i caused them growing up? all the self inflicted problems i dug myself into, the times i drove my mother to tears until she couldn't help but just call my grandpa and cry. at one point in my life, i was a very difficult child. starting from that point in my life, i distanced myself from my family, thinking that they were all ashamed of me and that they knew what i put my mother through and disdained me for it. i still remember the time i refused to get out of the car to go to my aunt and uncle's house. my cousin had to step out and coax me outside, while my childish self was brewing with self-hatred and shame and guilt, thinking, why are you being kind? i don't deserve this. leave me alone. my cousin somehow managed to coax me out. i had hung my head in shame as my aunt and uncle conversed with my par...
you're alone and cold in your bedroom, the fan whirring as fast as it could go as it usually did. there's three tabs open in your laptop, one playing music that you've never heard before in a language you don't understand, but the melody is quite nice so you don't bother changing it. in the kitchen, someone tinkers with glassware and fills a cup with water. your eyes flutter, torn between staying awake and succumbing to sleep. the song changes to another song, the artist's voice raw and emotional as they pour their all into their art. you listen mindlessly, and before you know there's darkness. the dinner table is empty. your family is asleep, retired to their respective rooms with the late hour, but you're restless and anxious for something to happen. your reflection is dull and unclear in the scratched marble of the table, and your hands draw meaningless symbols as you lose yourself in your thoughts. when you lock eyes with a girl across the street, w...
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