“I don’t need you.”
I wish I could say that bluntly.
But I didn’t. Because I knew what would happen if I did.
I thought I’m heartless already.
I thought I’m cruel enough to break anybody’s heart, no matter who that person is.
But when I hear your voice, it just breaks my heart. Just when I thought I’m about to tell you that–to tell you the cruel thing,
“I don’t need you,” it pains me so much already.
You are always different.
You will never be one of those ordinary people.
You will always stand out.
I used to be proud of that. So much.
But now I hate it so much that the hatred consumes my heart.
I’ve been asking God whether He meant to make our life as a cruel joke.
He never answer.
Or maybe I’m just too deaf to hear His answer.
Because you and me–we are completely different.
Like water and fire.
Yet He keeps setting us up together.
Like He’s been trying to see whether water and fire can stand side by side,
and when He fails, He tries again and again,
and He will never stop until He succeed.
But He doesn’t know, does He?
He doesn’t know how much that hurts.
It hurts so much.