1. she'll die before she kills me
   
2. I'll kill her to prevent any suicidal attempts
   or
3. I'll kill myself to stop me from killing her

It may seem too psychotic, but the scarier part is that all options have been weighed by me, with the 3rd one being the most feasible and acceptable. My reasoning behind the choice? It's a bigger sin to kill another person than to take your own life. Of course the statement is debatable. But I refuse to argue. So SUE me.
And so I arrive at my present crisis. It's so unfair that my suicide plans has to be postponed just so my family can wallow in their pain. What about my pain? What about all the hurt that's tearing up inside of my worn-out soul?
Of course I'm being selfish. It's become a favorite past-time of mine these past couple of months, aside from crying my eyes out. I found that it's the easiest way of dealing with it - Life that is.

Every once in a while I revert to my old self and become like any ordinary girl. Emotions which have long departed me, pay a visit to tug at my anaesthesized heart; passing through all the barricades and walls I've put up to keep intruders away. And seeing as how my heart has forgone it's essential function, my reactions on these certain days are intensified and I feel very much vulnerable.
Today was such a day and jealousy was the one who stopped by to catch up.

Seeing Jason again, after almost half a year, was refreshing in every sense of the word. I've always loved how he's cheerful and pleasant, even on rainy days. He's the type of person to be the life of any party.
I could literally feel myself lighting up every time he came over. And I most certainly loved how I cannot help but reflect the smile he has upon in his face.
It's quite hard to put to words, but I'm almost certain that I was in love with him then -- maybe even now. It was in the air? It was as if I could feel my affection for him, hold it in my hands to cherish for ever.

His hair had grown a few inches when I first met him and he dyed it a brownish-blonde color. He looked very hot and very attractive, I almost didn't recognize him. It was his smile that familiriazed me and made me feel at home. *My apologies. I always ramble when I talk about him.*

The fact that he was with a girl was the main reason that I didn't recognize him. It was so selfish of me to think that he would be waiting for me. Why would he? Why should he? Who was I to him? Right?
And what hurts the most is I cannot hate the girl because I know that she is a beautiful person, inside and out. Plus they looked good *I cannot fathom happy* together.

I only wish that I can put this all behind me somehow. I've always known that we would never work out. No matter how hard we try, we would never be. I've known it from the start. But it's just too damn hard to let go.

He was almost Mr. Right. He was almost the one for me. Maybe if not on this life, I could only hope for the next.

Jason, I love you so much it hurts.

...It's good to drink from time to time. Drinking [alcohol] helps heal the wounds we have inside of us.

I wasn't sure if she was kidding or not, but what she said reminded me of an old schoolmate.
I was out drinking with some girlfriends and I don't entirely remember why the hell we were talking about cancer. This was way way back in highschool.

GF#1: Did you know that too much alcohol can cause cancer.
ME: Yeah. Liver problems run in my family.
HALF-BRAIN GF#2 (interrupting me): Really? Even if I only apply it on my hands?
ME & GF#1: Are you drunk?

And now, I'm freezing my butt off, typing with puffy eyes, while my world slowly spins out of axis... hoping that all the alcohol I've consumed will quickly heal my wounded heart.