<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4201493653587395291</id><updated>2011-10-06T08:02:34.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DearDiary</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>FT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4201493653587395291.post-763745557107752279</id><published>2011-10-06T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T08:02:34.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four</title><content type='html'>Dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;We talked a little today. He said "old one don't go new won't come", and I asked if his new one's referring to his colleague. His reply "maybe, who knows". My heart shattered at that point of time. But I told myself "What more do you want! Be happy you are his friend! Be happy you&amp;nbsp;are still part of his&amp;nbsp;life as a friend!"&amp;nbsp;Honestly, I'm contented. I just want to be at the sideline and watch him be happy should anyone good comes along for him. I don't want to have him and lose him, so the safest&amp;nbsp;way is to be a friend.&lt;em&gt; To B:&amp;nbsp;I love you.&amp;nbsp;You may not believe it but it is the truth. I didn't realise it until I wished only the best for you. I stopped hoping you would fall for me, instead pray for the right girl to appear for you.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xoxo&lt;br /&gt;FT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4201493653587395291-763745557107752279?l=ddeardiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/feeds/763745557107752279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/10/four.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/763745557107752279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/763745557107752279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/10/four.html' title='Four'/><author><name>FT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4201493653587395291.post-4138570857570942659</id><published>2011-09-25T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T01:06:49.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three</title><content type='html'>Dear diary,I'm feeling so awful. I keep eating and eating and eating because that's the only way I'll hate myself for being a glutton, for being so fat and not think about the multiple stabs in my heart. It helps me to control my tears.. His every word is like a dart aimed right at the bull's eye. I couldn't hate myself more than this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xoxo&lt;br /&gt;FT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4201493653587395291-4138570857570942659?l=ddeardiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4138570857570942659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/4138570857570942659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/4138570857570942659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/three.html' title='Three'/><author><name>FT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4201493653587395291.post-8300319628816712274</id><published>2011-09-21T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T08:41:16.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two</title><content type='html'>Dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's killing me so badly!&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;I told myself not to cry! So even when I feel like bursting into tears, I swallowed every drop of sadness down.&lt;em&gt; 就只能热泪盈眶，鼻酸然后装作很开心。&lt;/em&gt;Today, I can't help it&amp;nbsp;and tweeted lots of "happy" tweets and some angry feelings. Deep down, I just want him to know how I feel and if he do care a little, I'd be damn happy. I guess it doesn't matter a bit to him. He has someone in mind and it's not me. Sad huh. Having major mood swings these few days. One moment, I'll be busy at work, keeping myself occupied, smile at my cute friends who try to cheer me up with funny jokes then the next moment, I'll be cupping my head and have lots of crazy shit running through my head. Of course, it's related to him. That's what I hate the most! I dislike getting affected by everything about him when I know&lt;strong&gt; I am not a shit to him&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't know if I love him or I'm just sore that I got rejected or I'm not good enough for him to fall for me. I guess a little of every possibility. Actually looking forward to work tmr because I have lots undone on my desk. This is what I'm doing everyday; finding ways to escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. A coincidence: completed first and second posts at 11:39PM sharp :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xoxo&lt;br /&gt;FT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4201493653587395291-8300319628816712274?l=ddeardiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8300319628816712274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/8300319628816712274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/8300319628816712274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/two.html' title='Two'/><author><name>FT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4201493653587395291.post-1601434953336641539</id><published>2011-09-18T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T08:39:38.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One</title><content type='html'>Dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;I deleted that whole convo; from the start when I made my feelings known, misunderstood that it's a mutual feeling only that he did not dare express it till when the truth comes to light and proved my woman's intuition wrong. Deleting process did not hurt at all, looking at the cursor loading for few seconds, all those msges appeared even more clearly in my mind. I remember everything he said, the hard copy did not matter though sometimes, I like to load the oldest msges and smile at the things he once said. I know, he does not fancy me a bit so I'm actually making a fool out of myself by trying to strike up a convo with him, saying things which does not sound like me just to clear the awkward atmosphere and probably, hoping to chat for a longer time. Recently, he totally stopped replying and left&amp;nbsp;me hanging there waiting for a reply. The first time it happened, I waited for 2 days and decided to stop bothering him till he responded to my tweet then I dared to talk to him again.&amp;nbsp;On sat, he left me waiting for a reply for 3 hrs. Thick skinned, I punched in another line of text. No reply. That night, I did an action in my most sober state, delete that whole convo. For someone who does not give a shit about me, even when I act like this, it probably won't bother him. Now I understand the feelings of people who wait for my text the whole day and hesitate to send another. I guess I'm fine, just feel I failed badly in life; got rejected and still&amp;nbsp;kept on bothering him. The first confession I made was to dt. I got rejected, waited for 5yrs till he got himself a gf lately. The second confession I made was to b. Got rejected too. Seems like I should not pursue what I like afterall. Today, I shall promise myself not to post anything emo or my feelings related to b on twitter anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xoxo&lt;br /&gt;FT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4201493653587395291-1601434953336641539?l=ddeardiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1601434953336641539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/1601434953336641539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4201493653587395291/posts/default/1601434953336641539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ddeardiary.blogspot.com/2011/09/one.html' title='One'/><author><name>FT</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
