Me : What you talking about?
Zhong zhe : You.are really.not a people kind of person. Meaning, you don't communicate with people welly.
Me : Not i don't. Is they don't.
Zhong zhe : Haiz... stop thinking what i say is wrong.
Me : Oh okay.. fine, whatever you say is right, k?
Me : Can you seriously, for once.. not say things that can either hurt or anger people? ....
Zhong zhe : -.- If you want stubbon i want help also cannot help.
Me : I'm not being stubborn.
Zhong zhe : You say i hurt people?
Me : You go and see all you typed above.. almost all are negative things about me. *(i did not put)
Zhong zhe : You know? I am really sad that you don't understand and i really am angry right now. But, instead... i am slowly talking to you.
Zhong zhe : I try help you, you say i only say your bad things... and I am not really blunt. If you think i am then its your prob. If i am blunt you know what i will say stright in your face?
Me : Fine, thanks for your helping.
Zhong zhe : Lets not get there. You know what? You dont really understand people which is why i say you are not really a people person. If you think i said something BLUNT again, sorry.
Me : Eventually, i feel worst. Like that time we're on msn. The same feeling's back. So, i'm sorry i've ruined your night again. And so sorry that i even ruin MY night. Thanks for your helping and all.
Zhong zhe : I AM JUST STATING THE FACTS. TRY CHANGING THE RETARD BAD POINTS OF YOURSELF LA! I BLUNT? FINE LA. YOU GO ASK MY FRIENDS.
Me : I'm sorry for saying that!
Zhong zhe : Hais...
Me : Can? SORRY.
Zhong zhe : I dont need you say sorry la. You try changing yourself. It helps sometimes + i am sorry for being BLUNT.
It seemed long to her. The holidays had passed in a blur of heat and waiting. His absence haunted her. In town, she would catch glimpses of someone with a walk like his, and for a moment be certain that he was back. At night, she often dreamed of him, stifling nightmares of non-communication. Two or three times she struggled right out of these dreams and down the stairs to the kitchen, convinced she had heard the telephone ring. The nightmares eventually stopped but her waiting did not stop. She still jumped every time the telephone rang, or when she saw a familiar gray jacket in the street. "Do you know how long he has been gone now?", she asked. "It must be more than five weeks." the other replied. "It has been five weeks, two days and about eleven hours." she confirmed. At the sound of the door bell, she jumped. Something inside her lifted, and then dropped a little too far. As if her heart had unexpectedly missed a step on a stairway. She rushed to the door and dragged it open. She hoped it was him. But, it wasn't.