When The Defeatist Finally Crumbles…

Ten years ago, I cried. I cried because I finally ran out of excuses to tell my friends and classmates regarding the whereabouts of my father, or why I haven’t seen him since I was six years old. It was on that day that I realized that I was one of them, those kids who came from broken families. After that, I told myself to get a grip, and move on. But I guess deep down, I never could, and I’ve been broken ever since.

I hated the feelings associated with crying, and honestly, I still do. There’s never a human act that shows so much weakness as that of crying. It’s the ultimate sign of defeat. It’s really quite pitiful.

Today, after ten long years of dry and silent weeping, I cried once more. I cried because I realized that there’s a huge difference between an advice and an opinion. An opinion is clinical, cutthroat, and with judgment. But an advice is different. You seek it out from people you trust, from your friends, from family, basically from people who care. Or at least people who you think cared. The point is, it’s meant to be supportive,  and encouraging, and uplifting. It should never make you feel like crap. It’s bad enough that you already feel so pathetic about your life, but for your own friends to think that you’re a loser too is just the pits. It’s sad and it just plain hurts. I guess for some people, a little faith is sometimes too much to ask…


~ by iamnotfrodo on October 27, 2007.

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