It's been quite some time since I last updated this blog. I really do not know what caused the steam to run out...perhaps I got tired of being bitter, perhaps it was because a few months ago my country got consumed by floods, perhaps it is because the imaginary boyfriend has become real and we all know that once a boy sprouts into your life the easiest things to forgo are cyberspace and the gym (I confess I left both).
It was the 26th of September. The rain fall was unexpected. It hadn't been raining all week. And even as it fell on the mall's glass roof, I wasn't really worried. We (my friends and I) have just come from a sleepover and our only concern was breakfast. But then our families started calling with news of styrofoam being used as boats, roofs being washed away and people getting trapped in their houses. My own family couldn't get down from the second floor of our house. Our cars were now nothing more than floating scrap metal.
The escapist that I was, I decided to get a foot scrub. I had no intention of dwelling over the shambles my part of the world was going through. Selfish yes but we survive our lot in different was and this was mine. And as I sat there waiting for my turn to be pumiced and polished, my cellphone started ringing. The screen was flashing an unknown number. I decide to answer it. It's him. He was asking if I was okay.
Him here pertains to the 2-week boy. An entry I think has been devoted to him.
This blogspot was in part created to vomit verbal and emotional garbage caused by our relationship's demise. Logic dictated I be cold and civil to 2-week boy and nothing more.
But let me say now, that I am not much for logic.
Hello. Foot scrub.
And besides, when you're in danger of going the way of the Atlantis, I think it pays to be a tad more reckless than usual. This could be your last chance to be an idiot after all.
The supposed idiocy has so far been going well. He's charming and sweet and witty and funny and great. He loves pizza and burgers and Mexican food. He sleeps so soundly that rock concerts cannot awake him. He's adored by my foster brother. He kisses so gaddam well. He loves me. I love him.
So excuse me please if I forget to pop in this blog or if my belly has become unsightly.
I am enjoying the 2-week boy's company too much.
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