Wood

I emphasis. Wood, my love. You're not ruining my life. You did not fucked up my spm year. You did not screw up my progresses in music. You did not do anything that made whatever in me go down. I don't know how I was like. I was directionless, aimless. I did not work hard, so I thought the only thing I could do was music. But I was wrong. I realized that after your appeared. You gave me that kind of motivation to work harder. And because of that, I realized... I'm more than that. I can do so much better but I just didn't maximize my effort. Because of you I feel like I have the ability to choose, to do what I want, because I can.

Sure, maybe, you always said I was dumb, I was terrible. Yeah you were right. I was dumb. But then I don't know what you did.

My results improved. I could math. I could cope. My violin progressed faster than my sister, just practicing hard for a day. I did practice. Yeah. Training myself to be disciplined, I could get things done. Using the listing method, I feel like... I can do so many things in a day!

Do you get that feeling? No of course you don't. These days I've been telling myself. You think you ruined my life, so I should score in my class. I should get the top. I should work as hard as I could and get fucking awesome results. I wanna surprise you, wood. I wanna show you, this is what I can do. I wanna blow your mind, (my mind), and everyone else's mind. I want to experience success. That's all I want. I can do that in art, I can do that when I play badminton with a bunch of girls. But I want to do that in a group of hardworking people. I want to be proud of myself, to be confident, that's all..

I've changed. Maybe sometimes I throw mini tantrums. But I tried my best to fix those, I'll always be trying. I'm trying to have you back. Improving the studying attitude, improving results, improving whatever I do in life, and making myself look prettier, just to have more of your attention. Do you know that?

Please stay with me, would you? I'm sorry for scolding you, in some of the drafts. But you were so mean, you tried to make me hate you. I tried to make me hate you too! But draft after draft, I still miss your touch, your voice, your heartbeat. I miss you all the time, the best times however you try. You will never make me hate you. And I will stop making myself hate you too. Okay? Sometimes, I was really... tired.

Haiz.