Transmission to future visitors

I figured it would probably be a good idea to say that I no longer live here. In fact, I've been blogging from Whispers of a Barefoot Medical Student for almost four years now. You're welcome to visit me there!

I had a fight

My ex and I had a fight tonight (and trust me, this is not like the usual ex-stories people tell).

It's an interesting dynamic because of the nature of our campus and the campus activities here. I am editor-in-chief of our campus newspaper, and he trained me in the job.

Our break-up in February was very bad and for a long time he treated me terribly. The past few months we've been friends, and it has been good. But this week he is angry with me for something. I haven't done anything wrong - somebody asked me a question and I answered. He seems to think that I smeared his name.

We had words tonight. He was treating me like a dog, and I couldn't pretend it's okay this time. So at some point I told him, "Get out of my office and get stuffed."

He left immediately and me, being stupid as I am, felt bad. So I went after him and said I'm sorry. He carried on walking. I SMS'd him.

ME:

Okay, you didn't have to hear me out. I'm sorry, I know that was uncalled for. But I am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking.

HIM:

YOU NEVER THINK! PERIOD!

I cried. I am afraid. He has a lot of influence on campus, and I am running for our student representative council at the moment. I am prepared for the possibility of losing the elections - but I want it to be fair. I have witnessed him seeing to it that staff at the university don't get re-hired; as a personal vendetta.

I still feel bad. It is taking all my resolve not to go to his room and apologise again.

What sucks is that he has treated me like total crap several times, and he has hardly ever apologised. It doesn't seem to bother him when he hurts me. I was a confident, successful young lady. And he has managed, over the past year, to break down every grain of confidence I have. He managed to make me believe that I was worthless. And yet here I am, worried that I hurt the man who claims to be untouchable.

On blogging and House

I recently watched House Season 6, Episode 15 (I thought it was 14, but the giant web tells me it’s 15).

It is the episode where the team must diagnose Frankie, the blogger lady. It set me thinking on blogging and privacy and the reasons why I’m possibly not as good a blogger as I am a writer.*

At the beginning, Frankie’s husband is upset that she’s blogged their arguments.

"I want to be a big part of your life, but I don’t want to be a part of their lives!"

I think I respect the people in my life too much to just write about them. Surely they wouldn’t always like being mentioned in something which they cannot control. That’s why in the past I’ve used nom-de-plumes or initials only; and eventually just stopped trying to identify them to my [possible] readers.

Taub and House have an interesting banter.

CHASE: I don’t get putting my whole life online.

That’s what my ouma and parents say too.

TAUB: It’s not that crazy. Privacy is basically a modern invention. Towns used to be too small for anybody to keep any secrets.

I come from a similar set-up. I didn’t always enjoy it.

HOUSE: And knowing too much about each other is exactly why people leave small towns and move to the city.

And now I’m in a huge city and I .want people to know about my life. God, I can’t figure out what I want.

TAUB: And a lot of people choose to stay because in return for zero privacy you get community, connection.

HOUSE: Connections are for airports. For peole we have over 300 TV channels.

Irrelevant, but funny.

Or maybe it is relevant. Maybe those of us who blog are the ones who dislike that we live in an era of decreased human connection. So we use the very tool that has, to a large extent, caused that to remedy our problem.

I am too afraid to mention my name on this blog and too afraid to advertise the link because I am afraid my family will find it. I have secrets which I don’t want them to know. Like the fact that I haven’t studied at all for my very important Urogenital System test tomorrow.

And despite my efforts to hide it from them, I still do not blog about what I really want to, in fear that they do find it.

House says,

"If they don't kill you, secrets keep you warm and fuzzy."

* As it stands, does Blogspot have an app to tell you the hits you have? Wordpress does but I do prefer Blogger.

For an uncle who left us 2010-07-10

I always knew that one day Pappa would call and he would use that tone of voice and say,
“Pappa het slegte nuus vandag.”*
And somebody would be gone.

I was jabbering on about my rash. My stupid goddamn rash that had me worried that I was dying. He was quiet. I think I heard him sniff and maybe I knew that something was the matter and so I carried on jabbering until he had to interrupt me.

So many thoughts can be thought in a second.
Inasplitsecond.

Is it my puppy; did she run in front of a car?
It can’t be Mamma or one of the kids because then Dad wouldn’t be able to break the news.
And I saw Ouma just the other day and she was healthy. Please don’t let it be her.
Give me strength.

Not once did I think it might be you.

It serves as a stark reminder that none of us thought to call you, to remind you that we love you.

I wish you didn’t have to be in that dark place. I know what it is like to want to leave and I wish I could have helped you. If but I knew.

You were there when I was christened. You had a keen interest in my music, my karate, my academics. You treated me as though I were a prodigy.
You were convinced that I would be a great doctor.
You said you would stay alive long enough for me to operate on you!!!
I don’t understand.

Just the other day we joked about how you always had your GPS set on some foreign language.
You had a knack for languages, I’m sure.
You were a brilliant musician. A gifted photographer.
I wish I knew you better.

You helped me to buy a camera just the other day.
Two months ago, that’s when I last saw you.
I never replied to the last SMS I sent you. I wish I had known.

The guilt-trip is no use, I know.
But, oh, I know that there have been times that a friendly SMS has lifted a cold blade harmlessly from marble skin.
And while it may not have helped... what if it had?

I don’t even know if I have a photo with you, but for the one when I was three months old and dedicated to the church.

I wanted to show you the photos from my trip. I wanted to let you photograph me, like you always said you wanted to. I wanted to make music for you again like I had when I was younger.

It doesn’t feel like you have left. I cannot imagine that you are no longer here. Perhaps it is a dream. Perhaps it never happened. Out here, without my family, I feel nothing.

Many who love you are angry with you.
They point to people dying of cancer, people who wish to live, and they ask how you could take the decision into your own hands.
What they do not know is that you too suffered a cancer; a cancer that ate at your soul until you did not feel alive. Until the only feeling you knew was pain.

But though I remember how you must have felt...
I still do not understand.

[* "I have bad news today"]

Rediscovery

I forgot about this blog. It's been more than a year since I posted anything here.
University has been tougher than I ever anticipated and the academic aspect is only the beginning. I've completely failed to adjust here and I seem to have lost all creativity.
It is 01:21 here and I should sleep, since my friends and I are going shopping, via the train tomorrow. I will write again soon though. Like, tomorrow, if all goes well.
Also, something is wrong with me.
2 week history of lymphadenopathy and today I woke up with a maculopapular rash. No haemorrhaging though and it's more palpable than visible. I don't feel sick at all, but it does bother me.

New Friend

When we met at orientation, I hated you. I deemed you bossy, bitchy, irritating... only to discover later that it is because you have the same strong, dominant personality as I do.

I cannot get involved with you - do you understand that?

You remind me of a friend I once had. It's uncanny how much you are like her. Both swimmers (though you are the better one), both achievers in cultural and academic activities as well. The two of you have the same mannerisms, the same way of speaking, the same loud, outgoing personality.

Both supposedly insecure inside, but both super confident and intimidating on the outside.

Yet it is also uncanny how alike you and I are. We have been through so much of the same. We have the same relationship-life at the moment. The same sense of ambition and DRIVE. We enjoy the same activities, people, events, music, thoughts.

But I cannot get involved with you - do you understand that?

I know that we would be great friends. I know how well we would get along.

But I have these hooks that need to be attached to people, this neediness to make me feel good enough... and you have these holes in your life, and I will attach myself to you, and you might not be wanting that.

You do not realise it, but you are the stronger of the two of us. I can see myself lying to you, just to seem worthy to you, just to prove that I have been through enough pain and suffering to merit your acceptance.

I can see myself feeling inferior to you, I can see myself forgetting what I have achieved and done and what I am worth.

I can see our friendship being unhealthy, because I have been this way before. You see, that friend I had once, she really was so much like you. And I know, I know that the same thing that happened between me and her, is likely to happen betweeen us. Because, really, both of us are so needy.

And I am unsure that 7 years of healing has been enough to prepare me for another deep friendship, I am unsure if I have matured enough to be different, this time.

First Day in Cape Town

So today was the big day... This Eaglet spread her wings and started a solo flight.

I'd been packing for days, it's been very emotionally draining... and saying goodbye was heart wrenching. Pappa cried, Mamma cried, my sister and brother cried... and Chris was there too to see me off, and he cried too. We all cried. He kissed me in front of my family, which wa the first time ever. It was a nice kiss though, not an all-over-the-floor-PDA-kiss.

I cried. I cried a lot during the 90-minute flight, eating the chocolate Chris bought me. The ladies next to me didn't say anything, maybe it's good. Maybe they didn't notice.

I think a lot now. Did I make the right choice? Will I enjoy the Western Cape? Is Stellenbosch where I belong?

It was a pretty good day though, apart from the accute sadness. The people i'm spending the night with are good friends of Pappa's and the food is great too.

And they took me to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens! You don't understand how beautiful it is... I'll have to post pictures soon! It's not something you can describe... realizing that this country has so many wow plant species! And it's a lovely place to have a romantic picnic, or to just relax and clean your mind.

I think... I think i will enjoy it here.
But I do miss my family and love so very much.

Rant on State Inefficiency

Today I went to the very centre of the city.

I spent four hours on foot, dodging bad taxi drivers and trying to maintain a 360° view so as to prevent becoming a snatch and run victim. I also spent those 4 hours being one of only two white South Africans in, say, a 1km radius.

Now, I know I've been living in South Africa my whole life, but... I was scared. Scared because I could see the shapes of revolvers in some men's pockets. Scared because I didn't like the way the young boys tried rubbing up on me. Scared because, I guess, I wasn't quite used to the kind of streets I was now traipsing through.

I think I started getting used to it though.

What I couldn't get used to, though, was the complete inefficiency.

It took the lady at the court half an hour to make a photocopy of someone's ID in the room next door. Home affairs, Social Service Agencies and the courthouse: they all have ridiculously long queues, buildings that are in such a state that they should be deemed inhabitable and employees who have close to no clue what they are doing.

And they seem to take tea breaks every half-hour.

I understand fully that with our economy, things are not always available as they should be, and people don't always have the education they should have. Fine.

But is it that difficult to send a clerk or any other employee to a course to teach them to look at people when they talk to you? BECAUSE I CAN'T HEAR YOU WHEN YOU ARE TALKING TO THE FLOOR!

At home affairs, the lady taking my details almost declared me MALE! Which must mean she was obviously paying no attention to my decisively female voice or the fact that I was wearing pretty earrings and a shiny hairband and makeup for pete's sake. It's not that difficult.

And at social services nobody had any idea what we were talking to and when we asked someone if his name was so-and-so, he gave us an ugly look, said, "yes, so?" and walked on.

Yes, verrrry professional.

Now, dear government, if I am expected to go on a course with my domestic helper so that we can understand each other's language better, why can you not send your employees on courses to make them more efficient.

It's not rocket science!

After today I am fed up and just about hopeless. I am actually surprised that anything gets done in this country.

Because even if I one day figured out a way of solving some of our country's problems, there would probably be too much beaurocracy and inefficiency to put it in place.

No More Matric

I got my Matric results yesterday!

English Home Language: 91%
Afrikaans First Additional Language: 95%
Mathematics: 92%
Life Orientation: 93%
Physics: 80%
Life Sciences: 92%
History: 81%

I am happy with most of those, except History, for which I'm going to get a remark. I generally average 94 for History and my whole school managed to get low marks for that - and it was a great exam, so you must know.

I'm thinking about getting a remark for Physics, but it was a really difficult exam and I'm really thankful to still have an A.

Well, now that is over.

An experience with (a form of) plagiarism

A random search of Google revealed a piece of writing I had written for Youth Yournalism International / The Tattoo earlier this year. It was an opinion piece on the USA Presidential Elections and its effect on South Africa and th African Content.

Youth Journalism International is a non-profit organisation that gives voice to aspiring young writers and journalists. The pieces we write for them remain under their copyright and the editors did inform us in writing that they may give other bodies permission to use our writing.

However, something gave me the inkling that if this site had indeed asked for permission from YJI, they would have informed me. Correspondence brought to light that the site (which, for now, I shall not mention) had indeed not been in contact with YJI. At least they stated my name and affilliation - apparently much worse has happened.

It causes for some concern regarding the electronic media. How many writers will randomly search their name to see if anybody is publishing their work without permission? And who is to say that people will put the author's name - that they do not perhaps pass it off as their own work? Must we then search random phrases in our pieces? What about people who copy only a paragraph?

What about websites that require a membership fee to view material? This will then not show up on a search engine.

I guess plagiarism happens in paper and in electronic media, but truth be told, the internet just makes it that much easier.

Musings on oneself

About a year ago, I had this wonderous moment of epiphany. It was as though my eyes opened and I finally saw what I had been, what I went through and what I had become.

And it made sense.

It was wonderful. It was amazing to realize that life had not been pointless, that troubles - although not ordained by a higher power, but allowed; and so used towards a greater plan - truly had obeyed the ancient clichè and made me a better person.

Now I come to a point where I wonder if it really was, because somehwere among the rush and the tears and the achievements of 2008, I seem to have lost myself again. A part of me yearns for a torturous couple of years to mould me back into the person I was, the person admired by so many, the person worthy of life.

I recall walking along a mountain path with him a little over a year ago. I recall telling him that some people aren't made for relationships. That it "cramps their style". That I think I am better off alone.

I fought to be right. I felt I had proved my point. Now I just wish I was wrong.

More than anything, I want to find myself more, I want to find answers to these conundra.

I sense a goodbye and I don't like it

Last night:
I was crying all of last night and ended up chatting to one of my good friends on my phone’s IM till about 2am, when I finally fell asleep. It seems that I want a break up now. It seems I finally understand… and it’s horrible because one part of my life wants to stay with Chris, but a tiny part thinks and almost knows that we need to break up.

Quick intro:
For those of you not familiar with the story: we met mid-2004 and a week later he contacted me again. At our first “date” he admitted he liked me. So we started a kind of cycle – we’d become close friends, we’d date, it would be good, then I’d break up with him and he’d be really hurt. Given about a month or three, the same sequence would repeat itself.

Over the years, despite the break ups and the obvious different feelings, we became pretty good friends. Best friends just about, except he treated me way better than I treated him. He said he loved me, and his behaviour proved it. Except I didn’t believe in love (sometimes I still doubt its existence) and I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I think I enjoyed being the heartbreaker for a change.

Finding myself in loneliness:
The three and a half years of being single was good for me. I got to really know myself, what I stood for, what I wanted, what I deserved. I dealt with my past and I started to see what a great guy Chris is. And I’m not sure when this happened, but I came to realize that… I love him. I think it took me six months to admit it to myself.

What you don’t know:
In the three and a half years of being chased, Chris did have other girlfriends. Mainly, I think, because I told him to stop moping. Except, we fooled around and acted a lot like we were dating even when he was in relationships. He cheated on them with me, never with any other girl. And I was the one pushing for it.

Officially:
Beginning 2008 we started dating. And I say that for lack of a better word. And it was wonderful.

Trouble in paradise:
The wheel turns. I started thinking, if he cheated on them, who’s to say he won’t cheat on me? Once a cheater, always a cheater? And yet I was the common factor all those times was me, and according to him he had who he had dreamed of all those years and why would he mess it up now? And in the past year and a half he has done nothing to betray my trust (I have my ways of finding out when guys lie or betray) and yet I find myself not trusting him.

When love isn’t enough:
When we had our break in June this year, one of the things he kept saying when I asked him how he could say it’s over and I love you in the same sentence, was, “sometimes love isn’t enough”. For the longest time I couldn’t forgive him for that. But now? I’m starting to realize what he meant.

Our fights are generally about stupid things. And if he thinks one of my questions are stupid, he won’t answer it even if it won’t make a difference. And I won’t let go. And we’re both so freaking stubborn. And he treats me so well most times, and spoils me, and spends time with me, but times come that I feel emotionally neglected. As though we just can’t give each other what we need right now.

Maybe now just isn’t the right time:
At our last fight, I told him, “maybe you were wrong. Maybe we aren’t meant for each other. Maybe we are both with the completely wrong person. Maybe you made a mistake.” And he said, “Maybe now just isn’t the right time in our lives.”

My attitude this year:
Basically I’ve said, if we break up now, it’s over forever. There’s no such things as realizing a few years from now that he made the biggest mistake of his life. There’s no such thing as wanting me back after a while. But now I’m beginning to think I’m wrong.

So the problem:
I’m going off 1000km (i don't know how many miles... PLENTY) next year to university. This year has been great, having him. But it’s also been awesomely tough. The doubt, the fights. And I’m just beginning to think: maybe we do need time apart. Time to say “no” to people who ask us out, not because we have to (in order not to cheat) but because we realize that they are not what we want or deserve. Time to think about what we want from a relationship and what we want to give. Time for me to think about whether I’m willing to trust him (or another guy) and what I expect of a guy. Time for him to think about how he wants to treat his girl. Time to mature, to be willing to sacrifice and compromise. Time to grow, I guess.

What to do:
I want to maybe have a heart to heart with him. Possibly 2nd or 3rd January. One that isn’t preceded by a fight, so chances of both of us being calm and logical are greater. I am not going to force a break up with him, but I’m going to tell him that I’m struggling to hold on. Mention the possibility of a break up. And decide together. Make agreements. I don’t know, it’s difficult to put it on paper, but hopefully you get the idea.

I don’t know…:
I don’t know if this is a good idea. And I don’t know if I can go through with it. That is what made me cry last night and I’ve been in an irritable and downright horrible mood all day (either the emotional upset, the lack of sleep, PMS or all three). I love him and I have no doubt that he loves me. And I can’t imagine a life without him. I can’t imagine telling my family, because he fits in so perfectly with us.
Little secret: all those years that I gave him bat and treated him badly, when I secretly thought or dreamt of my future kids, I always pictured him as their dad. I used to hate it, because I couldn’t help it.

The Swiss Ophthalmologist and his Teddy

He was once known as the best ophthalologist in South Africa. He has humour, he has wit, he also has immense wisdom.

He tells us of a difficult childhood. A poor family with five children in Switzerland.

A mother who would always give some soup to the needy, no matter how much she had to dilute it with water. As long as everybody got something.

His father with his faithful watchdog, working as a guard.

And this brilliant little boy whose intelligence wowed his teachers. Teachers who told his parents it would be a sin not to let this boy continue with his schooling straight through to tertiary education.

He took a job and his father took two, just to get him the very best education.

And look at him now. Wealthy. Intelligent. Well-known. STRONG.
Battling cancer and muscular dystrophy, an ex-wife and ungreatful children.

One story from his childhood still makes me cry. He had one toy, just one. A teddybear that was his best friend. He was a little boy of about eight during World War 2 and his teacher told the class about all the little boys and girls whose homes and toys had been destroyed by the bombings. They were going to have a toy collection for these poor little boys and girls and all the children were to bring at least one toy as donation to school during the next week.

This little boy went home and looked at his favourite, loved little companion. And he took the teddy to his teacher the next day and he cried, he cried so much, but he gave it up, and the teacher said not to worry, he is doing a good thing. And for the rest of that week, his teddy-friend sat on Teacher's desk and watched him, and the little boy felt such loneliness.

Could that teacher not see that this boy was poor to, and needed a toy - his ONLY toy? Could she not secretly give it back to him? Did she perhaps at least notice the amazing sacrifice he was making?

I wish I could go back in time and hug that little boy and give him his teddy back.

Because of all the stories the doctor has told us... this is the only one that still makes him cry when he tells it.

Christmas musings

I do not long for a White Christmas. I have learned to love our warm, beautiful African Christmas. We try to stay away from the snowy, wintery decorations purely by the policy of enjoying the place one is in, rather than pretending to be elsewhere.

I still think a snowy Christmas would be fun one day and I hope to experience it one day.

There is a familiar feeling with me this Christmas, as always. When I decorate the Christmas tree with my kid borther and -sister and shop with the parents I can't help thinking that maybe next year we won't have the privilege to be together again. We do not know who may have passed on this time next year, we do not know if there will be a new sadness, a new longing.

It enables one to enjoy and experience as much as possible of this time of togetherness, but it also fills my heart with fear and despair. If I knew where I stood with regards to death and so on, perhaps it would be easier... but not knowing and the thought of leaving behind so much pain - as well as the thought of experiencing the pain of loss) affects me more this time of the year than any other season or month.

Confession time: I only fully realized that tomorrow is the 24th already. [My family opens presents on Christmas Eve and has a big lunch and get-together on Christmas day] The kids have been counting down the days, and this year, that anticipation hasn't really been there for me. That could be mere preoccupation - exams ending late, keeping the house tidy and the parents happy, my relationship problems and anticipation for next year.

Truth be told, I have enjoyed buying presents. I have spent more than ever before and truly, I have loved it. I think it is more fun to give than to receive and I hope that EVERY person will experience this during some point of their life. Maybe it's because it makes me feel worth it, and I think I am the kind of "Manuel" that Paulo Coelho writes about in Manuel is an important and necessary man from Like the Flowing River - the kind of person who thrives on knowing that he/she is serving society and doing something worthwile. I am yet to decide whether this is a good or a bad thing.

When I was younger, Christmas-time had a smell. Not really the wrapping paper, or the food... but I always knew when Christmas was around the corner because that smell (perhaps it was more a feeling, a "Christmas spirit") was always there. I remember the sadness that first year that I couldn't smell Christmas.

People talk about "not feeling the Christmas spirit". I think that is because that spirit is based on our emotions and our personal experiences, and as that changes, so do the things we feel and experience.

I am at the beginning of a new phase in my life and to top that off, I have a boyfriend at Christmas for the first time ever (I always managed to lose them before Christmas in previous years) and I am a lot more independent (and more stressed) than ever before. And so that is why the "Christmas siprit" to which I have become accustomed to in the past four years, seems distinctly missing this year. What I need to learn now, is that my perception of Christmas spirit is just different now.

Many people have a problem with Christmas as Christ was, by all calculations, probably born in March and not in December. I think the fact that we have Christmas is good enough... to love each other and to reflect.

Epiphanies

For much of my life, I have dreamed of the kind of guy who would make me truly happy. The kind of guy "I deserve".

But now I am learning that that is one big lie, because I have found a guy who vowed to be good and I am even more unhappy.

He is a good person. At least, I think he is. But he cannot fulfil my expectations. In fact, I don't think any guy can fulfil them. And the more I expect, the more he hurts me, the more we fight and the more my mind and soul are tortured.

I think I am beginning to realize that I need to find happiness within myself, because it seems that no person can do it for me.

But how do I find happiness within myself when I measure myself by the people in my life? From where does one extract happiness if it is not from people, not from achievements and not from events?

Is happiness merely abstract, merely the absence of sadness and fear - just as dark is only the absence of light and cold is only the absence of heat?

Do I find happiness in faith? In God? That would be wonderful, were it not for my doubtfulness.
Who is to say that a Muslim does not extract the same joy from his faith as I used to get from mine?

I am so tired of waiting around to hear from CRM. He oly contacts me when he has nothing else to do. I swim, I read, I try to keep myself busy, but he is on my mind the whole time. I keep running to my phone to see if there is something from him. Everytime there's a car in the driveway, I rush out to see if maybe, just once, he is surprising me with a visit. I am crying now because I don't seem to mean as much to him as he means to me.

WHY, GOD, WHY WON'T HE BE NICE TO ME?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?

I am trying to think of our relationship positively, apparently that actually affects the other person's behaviour too.

I also think I might have lower grade depression, which is apparently the most frequently undiagnosed mental disorder. I read an article about it in an old 'O' magazine and it sounds just like me.

But then again, that could just be me and my relationship issues.

Why it's over

I deserve a guy who can't wait to see me. A guy that wants to see me as much as possible. Aguy who will sacrifice a rugby game or a few extra litres of petrol to see me. And he won't even consider it a sacrifice.

I deserve a guy who thinks twice, maybe even three times before getting angry. A guy who thinks that maybe I didn't mean bad, that MAYBE he is interpreting incorrectly.

I deserve a guy who treats me with dignity even if he IS angry with me. A guy who will not hurt me on purpose.

I deserve a guy that listens to me, even if he does not enjoy what I am saying. A guy who does not slam the phone in my ear. A guy who listens to my fears and soothes them. A guy who wants to make me happy - not because he is on a leash, but because he loves me too much to see me sad.

I deserve a guy who cares.

I deserve a guy who is willing to work on problems rather than pretending they do not exist.

I deserve a guy that will fight not to lose me no matter how angry he is with me, no matter how tired he is.

I realize no guy is perfect, but I deserve the guy that at least wants to be all these things, and tries.

I have given you almost a year to be that guy, because you told me you could be. But you have not. You say that you love me, but love is not enough if you do not treat me with dignity or respect, if you are not willing to talk and compromise. I refuse to be the kind of girl who clings to a destructive relationship in the name of love one minute longer.

And that is why it is over.

Update

I've been on camp since Monday - but it was horrible and for the first time in my life I left a camp before the end. I think it has something to do with my gradual loss of faith... everybody was so on fire for God and to me it just seemed so... I don't know.

CRM and I fought. He's seeing that stupid child this weekend and my trust and his anger and and and... it was horrible. He slapped me... I hit and punched and scratched him first... I tried to break up with him but I couldn't.

I've cried so much. I wish I could see him cry, or care, or something...

I don't know if we'll last forever and with every day that goes by I know I will hurt even more if we break up... but I can't.

Oh lord.

I can't.

I need clarity. I need care, tenderness, love in action and not just in words.

Oh lord.

Please.

Things I hate about you

• I would give up everything for you, but you are not willing to make sacrifices for me.
• I would rather spend time with you than with friends, but you prefer your friends.
• When I am upset you are the only person I want to talk to... when you are upset I am the one person you do not want to see.
• You "punish" me by ignoring me as soon as I say or do something that you don't like.
• If you want to be alone I must let you be regardless of what I want, but if I need something from you and you're not in the mood, you will refuse.
• You won't watch or do something that I'll enjoy just to spend time with me.
• You used to be sensitive and caring, you used to want to make me happy... now you don't seem to care.
• When she was sad you drove all the way to cheer her up, but when I am down you get irritated with me.
• If you're in a bad mood you take it out on me.
• You lie and hide stuff.
• No matter how hard I try, it's never good enough.
• You're always sorry but you always hurt me again.
• I have to do everything your way.
• I'm not allowed to threaten you but you always threaten me.
• I love you more.
• I miss you more.
• You won't talk and you won't erase this doubt from my mind.
• You wanted me more when you couldn't have me.
• You're not the boy you told me you were.
• You don't seem upset when our relationship is on the verge of ending.
• I wish I could act like you
• ...but I am afraid that it won't even bother you.

It hurts

CRM and I fought. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. AND today.

It hurts. You don't know how much I have cried.
I tried to break up with him... but I know that even though life is hell with him, it will be even worse without him. And he didn't even seem to be hurt by the fact that I want to break up. I asked him to give me a reason not to break up... and he flatly refused.

Then today he was feeling down and snapped at me for no reason and when I told him not to, he flipped and told me to fuck off because he doesn't want to talk to me anymore.

Today was supposed to be our eleven months... I don't think he even knows.
And I'm not going to mention it to him because he might fight. Again.
I made such a change to my behaviour yesterday and it still wasn't good enough.

I'm so tired of crying! I'm so tired of his SHIT!

Why don't I break up with him?
Because I love him. Because I think I know the real him.

Because I am too scared of realizing that breaking up won't bother him???

To top it off, the parents are also being mean... I am learning to shut up, it goes by quicker that way. ALthough it maybe hurts more.

CNM is here to be a friend, I am glad. We're studying together and she held me and let me cry earlier when I needed it.

I am ready to leave for university now, I am ready now to start a new life.

But I am so sad about CRM... I miss how we used to be.

And now I'm crying again.

If we had thanksgiving

In South Africa we don't celebrate thanksgiving, although Americans living here do, so I have experienced one thanksgiving dinner.

So, since anytime is a good time to be thankful and I don't think I am thankful nearly enough, here is what I am thankful for:

• My family - perhaps that sounds clichèd, but I have lived in mortal fear of losing on of them to death and that has helped me to appreciate them so much more. I appreciate that I have them, because I know that so many people grieve for the loss of theirs daily.
• Love - it took me a long time to start believing in it again and even longer to recognize the feeling. It has not been easy this year, we fought so much and sometimes it was downright ugly. But somehow this year would not have been the same without him and I do love him like I know he loves me.
• School - the beautiful Victorian building, the technology, the shelter of the Matric Quad, the safety within those walls. I know I belong and I shall miss it dearly. And the things I learnt, of course - because I know that every thing has meant something to me.
• Teachers - not for the knowledge they taught me, but the insight. The care and the interest, the things they taught me about myself.
• My house, clean running water, electricity, shoes, clothes and food - because more than 80% of the country doesn't have that.
• My brain - it has put me in places that many envy and has helped me cope in many situations. And it helped me be Dux.
• Books - they keep me company when nobody else will and are a great procrastination tool.
• iPod - because it's mine, gosh!
• Debating, the debating juniors and debating trips - because it destroys ignorance and develops people and shows me a side of myself I sometimes forget. And because it is possible the funnest thing to do!

Being accepted to study Medicine at Stellenbosch-Tygerberg

Not getting everything I wanted

• Being granted another day of life every morning
• Friends - I don't see them much, but the times we have spent together have been a blessing
• Grade 8s - they made my year wonderful and filled me with purpose.
• Chocolate
• Mxit, Facebook and Google - 'nuff said.
• God - because, despite my struggles and doubt, I do believe he still looks out for me