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Friday, 11 December 2009

My Heart Will Go On

"Wake up and smell the break-up. Fix my heart, put on my make-up, another mess I didn't plan."
I Heart - Taylor Swift

It may sound damn ridiculous, naive, immature, stupid an childish, but as I said before that people can have relationships and feelings for inanimate objects.

I'm 17. In a matter of days I'll be 18. Many people say that I should have outgrown balloons a long time ago, but I beg to differ. As you all would pretty clearly know that I am a pretty severe case of ligyrophobia, meaning that I am afraid f sudden loud noises such as firecrackers, doors slamming and in this case, balloons popping. I lived 12 years without a balloon in my life, and if there was one, it would be scaring the living daylight out of me.

Prior to SPM, I had a dilemma and a really terrible emotional mess-up. My world was falling apart in front of my eyes, and I had nothing. No one would have time for me because I would be up at three in the morning sulking and beating myself up over nonsense. I used to hug balloons at night. I couldn't afford a big stuffed toy or one of those cuddly bean bags, so balloons pretty much did the job. It became very therapeutic and helped me sleep on some nights. Imagine your teddy bear (for those of you who sleep with one, not that there's anything wrong with it) between you and your bolster, that's where my balloon sits. Nice and snug. A few have popped while I was asleep before, but Igot over it eventually.

So I fished around my hurricane-struck table and opened my old stationery drawer, where I stashed a 22" Latex Heart-shaped balloon I bought a few months back from Party Gadget in Times Square. It was awful pretty, and awful expensive at the same time. It took RM 20 out of my wallet, but it was way way worth it.

I blew it up slowly and tried to get a good heart shape that wasn't too tight till I couldn't hug it. It came nice and slowly until I thought it was enough and tied it. After bouncing it against the wall I thought of taking a picture of it in my pink pyjamas, so I did.



I never felt better in my life. Cuddling it to sleep really put a smile on my face and really helped me get over my worries.

Then just 2 weeks later came the infamous SPM.

My giant heart didn't complain a bit. She stood by me to give me the motivation I needed and to put a smile on my face when all I had was a frown. She grew a little smaller over the weeks but I managed to untie her once and blow her a little bit bigger. She was there for me through the three-in-the-morning sadness and the times when I couldn't wake any of my friends up. She made me smile like a kid who just got a big present.

As the days went by, she grew smaller and smaller bit-by-bit, but the hugs kept her alive and well. One day she had a hole when another balloon popped next to her. I patched it up with cellophane tape and she was good. She lasted me till...well, today.

When balloons get stuck to each other, removing them is always hard, and this time, it didn't succeed. Most of the time, they can be separated. But sometimes, one, if not both balloons pop.

But I know one thing's for sure - that she's in a better place now. She's an outstanding balloon, for she made someone's life a better one.

So this goes out to all balloon lovers around the world. I think almost half of you may know how I feel, and for those of you who can get attached to inanimate objects like me. I know what it is like to have lost something that was  precious to you, especially if someone else wrecked it. Really. This is somewhere where we can all relate to.

I feel so so much better now. Thanks for reading. God Bless you.

Love,
D.A.niel

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