Mom and lawyer called me this morning excitedly claiming that they have some good news. So apparently the immigration guy called to tell them that he has reviewed the lawyer's proposal for my case and would like to have another interview with me.

Yet, I did not feel a tinge of joy. Well, the hope bury deep within my inner soul did give an awakening stir. But how would I know the second interview is not pregnant with disappointment and rejection once again? If the emotions I experienced that day recurred, I doubt I can fight them off again. It was too overwhelming. I need a break.

People often say, "Don't give up hope." But they do not understand that waiting for hope to come is such a painful torture because any instant hope will be lost and you will be ripped apart into pieces. But it's alright...you pick up the pieces, pat your head and tell yourself to move forward. Tomorrow will always be a better day. But how much disappointment can a person endure with the repetitious losing of hope? When the limit is reached, the man would be thrown into the very dark unawakening pit. This is what I fear. But I know my turn is not here yet. By choice or not, it's just not my turn yet.

When I was informed of Yanni's hospitalization, I was swept by a wave of shamefulness. Why am I been carried away by such a thing in my life? And I look at my Dear whom despite of his current situation, never fails to listen to me.

I am such a whiny weakling.