Ateng

That’s who this one is for. My sister. That’s what I call her. It’s not her name. Tagalog for sister. Get it?

Well I love her. I live with her. Which makes some of the days difficult.

I was having a conversation with my brother in law about Cain and Able. And we strayed as usual to other situations in the Bible. I like to discuss it. Even if I haven’t finished the book. My sister was sitting there finishing her noodles or pork or other foods, and said something that siezed my breath.

"You’re getting too deep. Don’t try to sound smart, Katie. Boys don’t like that, you’ll never get a boyfriend that way."

I immediatly felt the cut from her. Why would she (she just walked up the stairs, I must pause a moment) stab at me in such a way.

So maybe to her knowledge( I tell her nothing about my love life, or currently lack there of)I have no love interest. It may seem to her that I’m allergic to the oppisite sex, other than on the friendship level. In this new city none of my new friends are female. I don’t know why that is.

She insulted me. In a way that I never have been before. I said to her, in response.

"Well maybe I just won’t ever open my mouth again. Forgive me for being opinionated. Is that how I’m supposed to be to men? Dumb?"

She left the table. What would you say?

It doesn’t prove her point. It doesn’t justify her statement by any means if I’m currently in a realtionship. I’m just picky. I like sober men now. No offense to the barely breaths out there. But give me a break. Aren’t I more entertaining when you’re NOT intoxicated? You’ll remember more of me.

Which brings me to my next subject. Of giving up. I’ve given up. On what’s his face. Because I don’t fancy calling him more than two times a week. And feeling like he doesn’t remember me anyways. He didn’t say it. But it’s basically a fact. I mean. He was drunk. So what if he jumped the gun first. I followed. I was the fool. And I’m not going to do this again. Be open to a down fall like this again. This is the point in plumit where the fall doesn’t feel blissful anymore. This is the point in the drop where I can see the dirt ten feet in front of me, instead of that net he promised me. He should have promised me a net, and an ambulence on stand by. Really now. I honestly didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Nothing hurts me. And now I’m going to make a promise to myself that I’m sure I’ll break pretty soon.

I, Katie, promise to never open my arms this wide, to never close my eyes as tight, to never expose my heart in such record time, never, never, ever, ever, again.

Don’t lie to me.