Saturday, September 7, 2013

Mine ...

You would always be on your phone, sometimes for you wouldn't even concentrate on what we are talking about. You said I don't understand, slowly as time pass, you began to stay till late in your office, at first I would wait for you, we will always go our for supper and have our little time spend together, but as time pass, you would always tell me that you are very tired.. We have lesser time spend together.. It's partly my fault to always go out drink with my friend, as time pass, when u ended work, you start going out with your friends for drinking session, your colleague.. You wouldn't come with me, it's very tiring for you I know, I appreciate your afford, but where do I stand for most of the time,you would be with your friend first then me... I felt so heartbroken, at first you told me "I thought you will understand, why won't understand my job". 
How to I understand? Maybe it's me that always don't try to understand your job load and stress . I'm always drunk when you look for me, u feel so angry and sad too. But do you know that most of the time when I'm drunk till like this and we quarrel, is that you wasn't with me from the start, you always came from somewhere else then to me.. Maybe it's something good or sad.. Yesterday I felt so heartbroken .. or maybe this whole week... if you can understand .. I can ony feel that we are drifting apart, I feel that you don't really love me so much.. 
On a rainy night, I can only send you to your friend, you look at your phone the last time and told me "it's going to 12am , I need to go up le , reach home msg me." You rush to your good pal and friends...your eye didn't even turn to look at me... It started raining hard on me...Inside of me it's just like the rain..
I know that you are going out, I just try my luck... It's your freedom that I try not to intervene with... But .......
I can suddenly remember this feeling... Or should I ... :( I'm really :'( 
Or it's just my complaint. Maybe I'm too much ..
I still loves you smelly.

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