T for "Twelve Days"

It's been twelve days. I mean, only twelve days? It feels like a month for me already.

Dear readers, you have my apology in advance. When I started this blog, I swore I would not make this journal depressing, like posting empty-out-my-mind entries. And, believe it or not, I tried. But today, please forgive me to scatter what is in my mind.

Knowing that you are single is better than doubting if your relationship with your supposed-to-be boyfriend still exists. But it's always awfully hurtful whether you put an end or he does so. It was shocking, but I'm surviving, and my life is carried on as nothing has happened. At first, I thought I had tried well to maintain the bond, and it happened only because he had become tired of this remote situation. But as time passed, I started to realize that it was also my fault of not being a patient and compassionate person whom he would find valuable enough to keep beside. What I fear most is that I doubt myself if I really understand the meaning of breaking up. That means, the next time he sees me (by any chance), I will be just a friend, and he won't even give me a hug. And if he's with another girl with his arm around her waist, I have no right to be jealous (ugly word!). Probably in his mind, I have a huge "DONE" label on my forehead.

....Yes, I'm being sarcastic to myself. I wish those were lies.
You know what? This "I want to go back to Canada, but I can't" thing ruins everything. How can I deal with this??

Sigh... I'll read.