This posting was written for myself, though I don't think I would ever read it again. Whatever, just for a record of the terrible me. I didn't like to reveal my personal life—even if I ever had one, so to this posting, this would read very abstract. I might be the only one who would understand. I don't think you will be interested in reading this.

In a few months, it will have been five years. I couldn’t recall the exact date, I probably could find out if I really wanted. Almost five years ago, I made a decision before midterm exams, I didn’t regret that after all. I didn’t achieve the original goal, in fact, I doubt I had started to go on that way. I failed myself in just a half year, I realized that long after. For the last three years, I hadn’t done anything. I knew the problems, I saw the problems. I am just not willing to correct myself.

I rather talked about my family, I didn’t know if I still have. I was the only one still stand at same place like five years ago, maybe more than five years. I couldn’t be sure, I must stop for quite long time. They might have been moving on, I didn’t. They might have let go, I couldn’t. It’s my fault, I just need to admit to them, I couldn’t.

Before that time, my voice was always listened since my mid-teenage. I believe if I ever speak again, it’s still listened. But I haven’t for more than four years. They did value me a lot, I failed them.

Around two years ago, I shockingly realized how far I had be away the original plan. The life I had expected to have, it’s not there with me. All I had was the premature thoughts, I didn’t grow up. I like looking at photos on Flickr or somewhere I could see or read people’s life. I began thinking if I possibly could get like those life? I answered myself: not in this life. Because there was some crucial change of myself, which was related to born feature, I wouldn’t never possible to have what I wanted.

The last two months, I read a lot of stories. More I read, more I knew how wrong I was, but I still didn’t try to apologize. Three persons. He supported me in silence, I couldn’t remember if I had thanked him. She was subtly relying on me. The dog, the snuggling that night, the crying in book store. The last time I couldn’t remember the time, a year ago I guessed, clamping my arm but I crudely pulled her hand away, she tried twice. We had been close but not anymore for ten or thirteen years. Last week, she was eating cookies or something alone as I saw her back. It’s my fault I believed, she should have been with someone. It’s my fault I knew, no one could ever hear from me. The last one, my buddy, the cat, sorry for not playing with you anymore. Our only conversation was like “Meow...,” then I gave him some food while saying nothing to him. Wait, that was even counted as a conversation.

Two weeks ago, hundreds buried because of the typhoon which was happened where only a hundred mile from here. I felt ‘nothing!’ I couldn’t feel grief or sadness, just nothing. I didn’t care. How awful I became. Doing nothing is worser than those who hold knifes in hands. That’s what I did for the last five years.

Stupid, selfish me.