I can't. I won't.

penfriend: what's going on??

me: family stuff stress stuff

overwhelmed with "obligations" is all

but it's like... i'm too nice of a person to not feel guilty about not doing certain things. it's a mess of its own. but i do need to be selfish sometimes. i do need to learn how and when to say no.

because this feeling? i hate this feeling. and ray montagne is making me cry.

because times like these all i want to do is be with the one person i've convinced myself is "home". only i can't ..because the universe just isn't pointing me towards him anymore.

sorry. i'm venting. i just...it's pounding.

Sent at 11:04 PM on Thursday

I feel like throwing up. My stomach's churning. I can't breathe deeply. And every song? Every song I hear on Pandora's infamous "Joe Purdy Radio" is killing me. I don't know why. I'm not even really listening to the words. It's just, it's just right. And it's self-torture. But I can't stop. It's been too long since I've felt like this. And sometimes, you just really fucking have to feel like this. And I'm not going to quote a movie or a song or another person to explain to you how I feel. Because then I'll feel unoriginal. Because then I wouldn't be telling you from where I stand, from what I think, from how I feel.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm tired. Of letting people step all over me. And I do it with so much heart, it makes me sick to my stomach when it's not reciprocated. And it's not just with love, it's not always about love. It's decency. It's respect. It's appreciation. If I ever so willingly work really hard to get an incredibly delicious meat lasagna on your plate, you don't throw canned ravioli unto mine. Not that there's anything wrong with canned ravioli besides the fact that it's canned and probably has twice as much sodium, it's the act of it. What does that show me? I already am aware of the fact that we don't share appreciate verbally, and when it is shown, it's done in such a fabricated way that part of me, is more concerned about how rare it happens than the fabrication. I don't feel appreciated. I've been stomped on. It's unfair. But the thing is? I brought this all unto myself. I'm the one who took on all the responsibilities. I'm the one who put all this weight on my shoulders. No one asked me to. But I do it to avoid the thought of you guilt-tripping us when it isn't done. I do it because I know that I'm the one who feels guilty enough to actually do something about it, before anyone else does. But I'm tired. I do enough. I do a lot. I can't do it all. I don't want to do what you do. Regardless of the obligation of being the eldest daughter of a Filipino family, it's different here. I have to focus on a career here. We ALL have to work here. I throw the garbage out, I lift things, I go grocery-shopping, I do things that are considered "masculine." I can't do it all. I won't. It's forcing me into an odious state. I don't want to be here.