It’s quite late at night and the people who are within my vicinity are also within the reach of the Sandman. I figured writing a confession session right now because
1.) I originally wanted to submit two of these entries a month, but I always end up getting behind schedule and
2.) I have bothersome thoughts crowding my brain.

I’m currently on a school trip. My roommates are sleeping, but you know me. I can’t sleep as easily as they do. Although I should be doing homework, I lack both the intelligence and brain power for any school-related assignments. My journals don’t require me to act smart, no, not at all. When it comes to my readers and I, I only care about being honest and freeing myself from my own protective cage once in a while.

Because that’s what this is. That’s what journal writing is for me: an escape.

I might sound hypocritical at some points throughout this entry. I also might sound a tad conceited and absolutely full of myself. I am not a naturally modest being, but if you meet me in reality, seldom will I brag. However, I’m not innocent and I don’t want to fake being so either. Here goes another confession session~!

The first time I was confessed to, I was in grade two and it was an indirect confession. A kid by the name of Oliver came up to me and told me, “Calvin likes you.” Being a child, I liked him back. I didn’t know those things ended.

Grade seven was when I had my next special person(s).

What happened until grade seven, you might ask? Well, a lot, to be honest. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you readers this, but I was a mean kid.

I don’t remember specific years and only vaguely recall the faces of those I’m going to mention. I won’t reveal any names for privacy’s sake.

A lot of people confessed to me in the past. Back then, I didn’t have any accounts on social networking sites. Everything that was said to me was said to my face. Likewise, everything I said, I said to whoever’s face. Conversation used to always be on a personal level. Confessions, then, used to be a huge deal.

A huge deal, yes, but I only realize that now. Back then, I didn’t know how much courage it took for a person to confess. I didn’t know there were fears accompanying the confession. I didn’t know a person liking another person was regarded on various levels of sincerity, either.

I can’t list you those who have confessed to me in the past. There were many, to be honest, too many to count. Back then, I didn’t know how hard it was for someone to catch their “crush’s” attention. I guess I stood out in the crowd. I suppose people like black sheep.

Every time, from grade two to grade seven, that someone confessed their feelings to me, I would shrug it off. I was young and inexperienced. I was ignorant. I have my regrets, dear readers, but that’s for another entry.

I thought it was normal being liked by so many guys. Honestly, it became part of my lifestyle. I didn’t know what it meant for guys to like me, but somehow, hearing a confession directed towards you is among the most rewarding feelings there are. It means that someone somewhere noticed something special, something they found amiable, in a regular being like you.

You see, I lived off of this affection. I never returned any of it because I believed I would end up with Calvin. He was my first; I thought he’d be my last. I thought love was perfect, but it is truly the most flawed concept I know of.

Him: “I like you.”
Me: “Thank you.”


Him: “I like you.”
Me: *ignores completely*

In grade seven, I gave up on Calvin and the hole in my heart was immediately filled with others. I hate myself for being so... “easy.”

Guys, it’s all about timing. It’s easier to capture someone’s heart when their heart is free to be caught. You can’t just steal a fish biting on someone else’s fishing hook. An idle heart is the easiest heart.

However, things were different in junior high (grades seven to nine). I had Facebook and people relied heavily on the instant messaging feature to tell me anything.

I remember enjoying staying up late with anyone I stayed up with. It made the dark hours less lonely, you know?

But confessions were so... dull. I mean, I was of an age where I can detect favourable qualities in other people. On the internet, however, we are hardly people. We’re only photos, videos, and words. There’s no warmth, no shy appearance, nothing! When boys tried to confess over the web, it lacked substance! I fell for those who caught my idle heart, but still~!

I remember hearing “Lucia, I think all the boys have liked you at least once.” It’s a lie, dear readers. I hate it and I like it. I’m a terrible being.

See, boys like girls. I am, usually, a girl. Boys are, usually, boys. It works, right? Except one girl cannot have multiple male admirers. A boy likes a girl and the girl likes the boy. It’s a very personal experience. To be liked by so many people, I can get drunk on popularity. To be liked by so many people, I lose face and become annoyingly well-known. As a person of secrets, I did like being hidden.

Anyhow, I’m slowly shifting from my topic here.

Like I said, liking and being liked is a very personal experience for me. When I like someone, and I know I like them, I tell them. Why? Because guys can’t read my mind and I don’t expect them to. It takes courage, yes, but it’s worth it if it’s honest.

I like guys who think similarly in the sense that they’ll confess to me when they realize they like me. I don’t want to be told by fifty people that some guy likes me. That, for me, is definitely one of the biggest turnoffs.

What I hate even more is when people hint to other people that I like them. Truth be told, you won’t be able to tell when I like someone. I’m very careful when I’m doing anything regarding my special someone: thinking, talking, working with. I do this because when I like someone, only that person has the right to know.

That’s why I hate a few things. I hate when other people tell me that someone likes me because that makes the whole experience less of a personal matter and more of a public scandal. I hate when people spread rumours about who I like because more often than not, it’s incredibly false. I hate when confessions are indirect or done through a different face.

You would not believe how many guys I know have expressed their feelings to me through their friends. I hate that with a passion.

What I hate most, though, is when nothing is known at all. For me, I will confess to the person I like. I won’t rush the confession because after I like someone, it takes me an elongated period of time before I notice. However, I can’t say the same for other people.

Guys, if you like a girl, wait a bit and tell her. Don’t keep her waiting, don’t be quick to change your heart, and don’t be too shy. I dislike when guys either never tell me they like me, or tell me when it’s too late for me to reciprocate any of their feelings.

I will make assumptions. You probably make assumptions, too.

But that’s just the thing. They’re assumptions. They aren’t facts and you shouldn’t treat them so! It bugs me the most when people put faith in assumptions.

I don’t like hearing people tease me about who they believe my special someone is. I feel like it makes me an insincere being. I mean, I’m shy when it comes to confessing, but I will confess when I’m ready. I don’t need nor want someone else to confess in place of me. That truly is terrible!

What do you guys think? I personally don’t like being on either end. Having rumours spread regarding my love affairs is bleh, but having to make assumptions about others liking me based off of what I hear is also bleh!

Assumptions, dear readers, that is what I don’t like. I dislike assumptions being made about me, and I dislike instinctively assuming things about other people, especially when it comes to matters pertaining to fondness.

I also don’t trust hearing indirect confessions. A few times, I had a friend of some guy come up to me and tell me that so and so likes me. Well, you know what? Despite my first love starting that way, it doesn’t faze me anymore! In fact, it makes me feel like whoever it is that likes me isn’t brave enough to say it to my face.

If I think like that, I can’t help but feel others think similarly. When my friends tease me about boys and such, I get a tad pissed off on the inside. I don’t express my discontent, but I do harbour it. Friends, if you ever read this, never talk about my affairs. If you do, make sure I never hear word of it.

I haven’t a clue where I’m going with this entry, but yeah. Assumptions are... *shakes head in disapproval*

I’m currently back in my hometown. I wrote this entry on different days so my mind is more scattered than usual. Basically, today’s entry is about how I dislike unclear or implied statements.

I’m... going to go do homework now. What an odd way to end and entry! Goodness, how strange. How incredibly peculiar it feels.

While I try to sort of my life, have a go at guessing the title and artist of this song:
Let's just say - I loathe it all
Ev'ry little trait, however small
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl
With simple utter loathing

How fitting a song it is, haha. Anyhow, I bid thee a temporary farewell and I’ll hopefully see you around next time~! yum_puddi