I think my trip to Spain won't materialise after all. It's my fault for procrastinating the booking of the tickets, and now it's full, not only that, even if I reverse my itinerary, head down to Spain via Rome and Venice, it's not gonna be possible because the flight to Rome is full as well! And now I'm so angry with myself for spoiling my own holiday. Sigh. Should have booked the tickets earlier, instead of trying to work out the best plan to tour Barcelona and Venice. So what if I have my itinerary set up? I have no tickets there.

Oh I wanna cry. But before that, I wanna kick myself in the ass.

Sigh.

Then there's this crazy change of flights that I'm trying to do, and probably in the end I won't be changing the flight after all. I don't know what it is about Paris that I love, but I really adore that city. Yeah, the French might be snobbish in some people's view, but well, I adore the quaint little towns and the hidden shops.

(Oh, that goes for my love for Venice as well, WHICH I won't get to see this year. And no, the flight to Paris is full as well due to the holiday season and so I can't go Paris during my leave toO~!)

Sorta made a friend on board, and well, as she shared her story I figured I could relate somehow, though most of the time I don't understand why she had to do certain things she did. And I thought about my previous relationship, and how I managed to make that step to move out of the rut that I was stuck in. Certain things she said reminded me of the past though. And I wonder if love drives people to extremes, to places that they'd never ever thought they would go to. And if love hurts, why love at all? Yes, pain is addictive, and it's the only thing that reminds us that we're still alive... but how much pain can one go through before it's over?

You painstakingly love someone, give your all for him or her, to find out that probably it was all pretty much one-sided. And then you hang on, hoping that things will change, yet when they don't, you continue hanging on, just because you've put in so much effort you can't bear to lose it, the mere thought of having to start over again, getting to know someone else all over again tires you out. So slowly you become more and more unhappy, less and less satisfied.

Vicious cycle, this love thing. It eats you from inside out.

...

No cute Spanish guys nor charming Italian men this year.

argh.