.

Why do I say sorry as a habit, in each mistake during mix doubles, why do I feel so stressed and pressured even tho no one gave me that feeling, why do I hate myself when no one's blaming me. Why do I feel so funny when they praised me when I know how bad I've done.

When your whole life you've only been receiving critics. You forgot how to face appreciation. Even a thank you feels weird.

Because I wasn't good enough. I'd improve so fucking much if I have consistency. I'd win matches for them if I didn't had such terrible habits of being nervous and ruining everything.

Don't say that I did well, I know what I am, I know how I did. The first time in my life, someone said my net was good. My net was good during multishuttle, but it wasn't good when I'm having hell of second day, it wasn't good when I'm nervous as hell, it wasn't good when I'm being myself, dreamy and slow.

March intake(the girls)came in, stomata and I sat closer with them than the rest of the class which sticked together. I like being with them, but I prefer a better view of the whiteboard during lecture. Stalker has a seat with the bananas now, so he wouldn't disturb us anymore. Even tho, stomata and I switch seats all the time, alternately, with the seats beside completely empty. The girls are nice, they're not expectedly hard to talk to just because they're pretty.

Today stomata ditched me without informing, I was actually alone. Channel, the prettiest in class, sat next to me. Ah she's actually fking adorable. As in, how she act, not just the appearance. Another prettiest in class too, she looked cool, but she's actually very funny lol.

It's been a long time since I've actually made new friends. I've avoided it for him. Now, I'm not gonna lose opportunity for connections, but tbh I'm not interested in guys anymore. Even if it's badminton, even if I'm going for badminton, I'd like to improve myself. Get to know one or two seniors from other courses, but just that.

I'm moving on but I'm not completely moving on. She asked if I'm going to pierce more. If we never got together, I'd have two or three more piercings. But it's a change of plan, cuz I'm waiting. I'm waiting for him to come back even tho I know that he's not coming back. I'm reserving a space for him for all those awesome movies but I doubt he'd still ask me out. I look at his photos to make myself feel better when the day sucks like fuck, maybe cry a little then get back to the textbook. I torture myself a little whenever I miss him too much and I know I should stop. I scold myself for smiling when he talks to me adorable. I'm moving on because I didn't die daily for us. I'm not moving on because I'm trying to live my life while watering a dead flower hoping for miracles.

Miracles do happen, but things like that don't. We aren't getting back together. Not now, not in the future. But it's no use telling myself that.

Even if it broke, I'd still attempt to fix it. I'll keep it deep down somewhere I forget, but I'll think about it every day and night. No matter what, no matter how, I will not throw it away. At the same, I am living my life.

That is good enough.