Emotionally, I'm closer to being a wreck than being normal. I only had some semblance of normalcy for 70 odd minutes watching Real Madrid attempt to play top-class football and having Roma show them how to.

I'm tired. Both physically and emotionally. I can't sleep. No prizes for guessing why. Life has to go on in the end but I'm refusing to think too much about the current situation because it's beyond my comprehension.

Love can be so cruel sometimes. I mean really, just someone explain to me what I've done wrong this time? Why is it that we can't be on the same page at all?

Guess I'll do what most guys do. Pour myself into my work. Get fantastic grades, get a good job, become a great lawyer and make partner before I turn what? 35? 40? Prior to that eventuating, or, before that happens, I'll probably be a lot more emotionally settled.

I don't blame her sometimes for this kinda crap. The distance can really take its toll. It amplifies any negatives and makes the guys over there seem so much more attractive. Guess that's the price you pay for chasing ambition.

I'm so torn now. Torn between holding on and fighting or letting go.

我恨我爱你