Being wistful.

XL said I am pensive. P said I am dysphoric. Buddies think I am melancholic.

I dun think I am perpectually sad...but I alit more sombre these days. Maybe becoz I chose to refrain from overly-displays of exuberance to hide and protect my chain of thoughts, I ended up looking bothered and distant.

But I am definitely hoping, even though albeit hesitantly, of better things to come.

Experiences from disappointments and over-fetched expectations have taught me to desire with a tinge of vacillation. You can never be too sure and I dun wanna be too optimisstic, for the aftermath of an unacquitted anticipation could be too immerse to take. I chose to look at a cup half-empty, so that I can appreciate the cup half-full. By injecting slight pessimism into my daily life, I am more tolerable with setbacks, and less complacent of good fortunes.

I told P that everyone has a story to tell, has a past that reminds, which make us apprehensive towards what the future beholds. I was affected by my past which moulded me into the man I am today, but I dun dwell on it. I learnt and I move on. Whatever bad that had happened didn't kill me and I relish the chance to fight another day. Neither will I harp on those events and think that the world owns me a living. Some have it better, some have it worse, it's the brutal truth of Life. I might not make mine better than them, but I can make mine better for myself. And I will be thankful when/if that happens, or juz simply shrug my shoulders if it does not. C'est la vie.

If being wistful subdued my emotional displays, I would rather be misunderstood as sorrowful. FOr I know when Happiness hits me, the smile on my face is as genuine as can be.