My Modern Old Asylum

I dont wanna consider myself a martyr. These past days, everytime I go home, all I pretty do is to eat my pride and stretch my patience. Every opportunity to do some chore, I grab it. Every little mess, I clean it up. I just dont wanna hear anything from OJ.

OJ is my new housemate now. He is extremely egocentric. A kind of person who is too proud of himself. Overflowing arrogance. Abyssic insecurity.

He is one of those bitter fellas, like my ex... the monster.

One night he bursted with tears. He admitted that he likes me since we've had this sentimental conversation one evening about our childhood misfortunes. He was a battered kid, and so I was. He told me he was too stupid to fall for me. I was so apathetic that I did not even appreciate all he did for our apartment. He murmured that all those things are for me and not for himself. All, with a total of P25,000, more or less.

Now, I'm suffering with his vehemence.

What is wrong with me? Why it always ends this way? There is always cynicism. Im tired of this animosity.

Someday I know, these things will be over. My hopes are the only ones driving me survive. Every morning as I wake up, I keep on believing that things will gonna be ok. That, no matter how poignant the relationship is, there are still positives left in this apartment that I could enjoy, and just focus on those good ones. Like an asylum, it is where your crazy folks are captive. No enough illumination, no scenes of company, and all you hear are your echoes. It is cold and it is dark. But, until when can I take these? I hope my patience is good enough until I could leave without bad traces. Like Sybil captive from the dark cell, and fused into one sane personality. Well, did I just imply extreme patience and insane perseverance?

"Nah... I hope I'm not sounding martyr. "

"Well, right. Whatever."