Since I can't blog this in my official blog for fear that his parents would hire a killer for me, I will rant here.

I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday. We've been together for 8 months or so. We are what I call Valentine couple. We liked each other but I didn't love him in the beginning. I thought is something that you can develop, grow and then have. I was right.

But it wasn't enough.

I made many claims about his immaturity and his childishness and they are all true. But what I hated the most is that he would guilt me into trying to understand his situation, his whinning and all his excuses. I accepted them, valid ones and crappy immature ones. But I can't anymore. So I broke it off via Plurk and the next day I changed my status in facebook after lunch.

What I didn't know is that he had been saying the truth about the not being able to breath part. And that he collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. A man actually posted a reply to the private plurk and said that they had rushed him to the hospital.

His father (who is an e-mail "friend") send me a message that my ex was taken to the emergency room and had to go through MRI procedure. He has asthma, I get the whole hyperventilating thing but an MIR procedure meant they are checking if he lost oxygen in his brain, right?

I am used to shocking news. My ex ex said he had two kids not one and is married. I survived it. My heart hurt for a long time but I survived it. I it up, cried then I went on with my life with even more positive energy to find a new love.

I didn't get hospitalized. I didn't stop breathing. I didn't stop making something to make the pain go away. I didn't sulk and just want to die.

I will not get back together with him and I am sure they would never let me get back together with him. And he should not want to get back together with me.

Why should he? I'd probably kill him next time. Because although I do care about him. I love myself more.

If I would have to be an old maid for the rest of my life as a punishment from God. Bring it. But I would not make someone who loves me more miserable by sharing a life with him when I can't stand his weak and feeble spirit.

This must be survivor's guilt but I am sure he'll get over me.

Or die trying.