I suppose it is my fault.

Right. Let's get on with this, shall we?

I will get straight to today's topic: Hope.

Hope. What is it? By MY definition, it is the presence of a certain faith that things are going to be alright.

It hurts not talking to her. It hurts talking to her.

Such dilemma.

Well, thanks to my ever faithful self, I present to you a solution. Blame it on yourself.

Torture yourself, so that the other person do not feel the same.

Now, before I get to the part where I break down and start flinging words, I will give you Hope. She is not totally lost. Delusional? Let it be so because it stops the pain. I'll take anything to stop the pain short of worshipping other deities, or killing myself. Drugs? I wish I could get ahold of some cough medicine so that I can actually sleep soundly for a night.

To you girls and mothers out there. I present to you a modal of a person:

- 24 years old
- Independent
- Has a permanent job
- Smart
- Hardworking
- Responsible
- Spiritual

Wow. Much handsome. Such victory. Much want.

Well, guess what, mothers? You can have him as your son-in-law, and maybe get a few grandchildren with perfect hair, body and personality just like their father.

I suppose I have myself to blame. I did not exercise, I did not take care of my body, I sleep late, I'm always playing games, I'm lazy and I'm not that responsible sometimes.

Here's the catch. You do not know this guy yet, but he SEEMS to be a nice guy. Well, if this guy is not a nice guy, I don't know who is.

So, you (mother) go up to him and say, "Will you see my daughter?"

He said, "Why not?"

And off they go to the parent's home and voila, nice to meet you, nice to meet you too, here she is, smiley smiley.

Ah. Seems perfect. It's like true love. Based on mother's instincts too. Wow.

They got to know each other, the guy likes the girl, the girl likes the guy. Soon after, wedding day.

They got happily married, have children, smile all the time. Happily ever after.

Wish it could've been that easy. I mean, who wouldn't want it to be that easy, right?

So, consider another case:

- 20 years old
- Dependent on his parents for money, shelter and food.
- Student. Not that great either.
- Average. Sometimes a little bit lower.
- Lazy ass.
- Not so responsible.
- Not so spiritual.

Nope. One look at this guy, and you know he's going nowhere. Not even out of the parent's house. I mean, COME ON look at that eyebrows eeww, and that crooked mouth OH GOD, and that smell... what is that smell? Is he wearing his pants lower than his waist? Who in blazes do that?

This guy does.

But wait up. First judgements aside, when you open your eyes... you can actually see that his eyebrows are not that bushy. Only most of the time it looks bushy, because he's always thinking... thinking about something... thinking on how to make the best of his day.

Wait up again. You ask him... "Why are you depending on your parents?" The guy looks up and answered, "Because they don't let me work... They want me to study." Oh. Would you look at that.

Wait a minute... that smell... You look to the side and you saw someone had puked over the side road and it smells so bad. Then you look a the guy... he smells faintly of deodorant. Oh. Okay.

Wait wait wait... when you look closer... his mouth is crooked because he's always frowning. And that scar on his nose... the doctor apparently pulled the skin above his lips up to patch the tear. Poor guy. Must've fallen off the stairs or something.

I'm not one to say who I am. I'm the worst judge anyone can ever be, trust me. Call me Hakim all you want, but I'm the worst judge in the world.

I once had a friend. His name was Amirul Adli. One day we had a fight. I hit him on the head; I pulled his head down and punch him right there at the back of the head. I was so angry at the time, I didn't know what happened until after it happened.

I wanted to ask forgiveness from him but I know we are not going to be friends anymore. I was fat, he was thin. I was slow, he was FAST. He's good at math but he's not so good in english. We were nigh inseperable.

I couldn't go on to that tuition anymore. Everytime I do, I remember him and I felt like a weight had pressed me down on my back. I couldn't gulp saliva and I couldn't breath. After the fight, he went out of the room and entered the other one that was empty. After a while, I went after him and I said I was sorry. I held out a hand, he slapped it and he cried like I've never seen anyone cried before.

 We went back home in silence. I cried in the shower back home, thinking back on how I started it first. It was me who punched him first, even though he was my only friend at that time.

He transferred school. I stayed.
We crossed paths once or twice. I smiled at him and he smiled at me. We never went more than that.

I think that was the first clear rejection I've ever had. And it was my fault.

Ever since then, I was afraid of my anger. I was afraid of what I will become if I let go of my feelings. It dawned on me that I'm a big man, small head, big hands. People see me as if I'm a giant. I was afraid of what I have grown into.

If you see me down the road, say hi to me, hold out a hand. I will say hi back to you and shake that hand. But after that, you decide.

I also found out that I'm sentimental. And sensitive.

Good night, i love you and bye.