The shoot-to-kill order hasn't worked

Happy birthday, Ian. You treated us to doughnuts again? Well, my mind was on something else.

I was looking at one of those chain romantic posts on Friendster (from, finally I remember, Jeri) that tell you how romantic you are and you should repost the message within two minutes if you want the answer to number eleven to fall in love with you.

Actually, I don't believe in these things. I didn't even choose an answer for number eleven.

Obviously, I haven't gotten over it. Ian invited me and a lot of others - Jason, Sudoy and Huey - and I didn't expect Jaja to show up. And Kevin and Icka. And Martin's gang. And Lau and Cuyeg.

I presume you know the next line.

I don't really know. Maybe when I was saying it was okay it was actually half of it, because I wasn't getting that distracted. I talked to a freaking lot of people, and I ended up even talking to her a few times. All along I thought it was going to go good. Then something happened.

For the first time I'm actually lost for words.

I don't know - maybe it's because I'm overwhelmed by the past few days, with the frantic mood of the freshman elections, or the many things we had to work with, or me not getting enough sleep. But I won't try to blame it on anything. The past few days I feel ineffective as a blockmate. Whatever I try to do I feel a little bit of opposition. Not to mention my own concepts of what should not be done.

Now I see myself saying, "Henrik, don't react anymore. They're not listening to you." Maybe the fact that I'm getting too comfortable with my blockmates (wait, my friends) isn't helping, because I'm actually forgetting to check myself once in a while. For a time I'm as impulsive as my childish self.

My blockmates in English class must know my litany every single class: I'm not having a good morning. For some reason, I enter the classroom enthusiastically, but before class begins I've got nothing to do but slump on my desk, thinking, you shouldn't have paid attention - you shouldn't have looked at her. But for me who always looks at something that catches my attention - a door opening, for example - how could I prevent it?

However much I try to make my days better, a little thing would just ruin it.

But this isn't what I really want to heppen. Honestly, I don't even want to write these things down - what if she sees it? I would be going around in guilt because my words have created another enemy. You know the power of words. Sometimes it just affects you a lot.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. A few conversations after I admitted to myself everything I tried to suppress, I felt better. But now, I admit to myself, I'm too scared of rejection to at least attempt to greet her a good morning.

Every good morning I give - regardless of the receipient - always seem to go nowhere. Most especially with this one.

This isn't right. Everything I said - it isn't supposed to be here. Even if I feel really happy inside whenever she responds, I don't want to recognize the fact that it has reached this point. Because it isn't correct - it is immoral (to snatch a word from Anthropology class).

Just when I thought it was over, this happened. Heck, why you do have to do this to me? To show me everything I do not have?

I refuse to think that is the case. If it is, I would have become ballistic.

So, happy birthday again, Ian. I think you'd understand why, despite all your good intentions, I didn't enjoy the treat much. I think you know the position I'm in - although a little different - we just want to become friends with them, but something's holding us back.

That would be uncertainty. And, in my case, my pride, my reputation, and the fact that I'm not good with women.

And your responses...

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