Its the last night in my body..

After going through lectures in crisis stress management I am pretty much convinced that I am pretty much fucked up inside-out. Though it might not seem much to others, trivial even, I haven't been given the opportunity to "recover" from any of my "crisis". All I get when I try to open up is rejection. Case in point- 2 break ups in the span of 2 years. One is already a mother to be while the other...well...I have no idea about the other. I guess things a better for them this way.

Having parents which are virtually unsupportive of the things that I do doesn't help. Not that I am being petty but I suppose it is pretty much justifiable to say that I am truly disappointed that they have never attended a single match in my life before, especially when I am playing in the finals. It might not seem much to many but having your folks, the people you really want to impress, being there to support their child in what seems like the scariest moment of his life does provide a dynamic range of comfort to him. So far, I have only won 1 out of 3 finals. In 2001, they were too busy to be there. This was an exception to my brothers whom have so far quit on what they (being my parents) thought they were good at. Sure the now-fatass brother was a good runner. But it doesn't seem ridiculous that they actually attended him running a cross country race at McRitchie- intra-school style. As for the young brat who gets everything that he wants, they were simply there even for his training sessions for silat. For me, I have met stiff resistance in rugby. They even refused to buy me boots. After much pestering, I paid half the price for the pair of boots which lasted me for 3 good years. For someone who receives very little allowance as a teenager, that is in fact a feat. After that, it was just me getting what I need to service my passion.

Losing a match is a big deal- because it was the fucking finals! Yet, they never seem to care much even if I won. Being 14 and winning a medal means a lot to any kid. But to come home all smiles and receive just an "ok" after showing it off is devastating for any kid. At 18, i couldnt give a fuck about how they were to respond to my lost because they never did know that I lost the finals- they never even knew I was at a match. I had given up all hopes of them ever supporting me there. Even trials for the national team were met with stiff resistance. It got even stiffer when I chose national rugby over national silat because it was a "disappointing" decision that I have made.

So...long story short, basically everything is kept inside. But one fine day, all this steam is just going to burst and shoot through the heavens even stronger than when the people of pompeii suffered what is now know in history as the biggest fuck ups that any civilization has ever faced. Life after that is simply a series of rolling punches. 2 break ups because I was simply not supposed to show my resentment to anything is enough of an evidence.

because if you care enough about someone, you'd drop everything at the moment when they need someone the most