Final Semester 2019

So it's the first week of my final semester as a degree TESL student. I'll be soon swamped with assignments and deadlines and meetings with my supervisor about my AE, or otherwise known as thesis or FYP (final year project). Granted, I hope I will be able to finish it on time and graduate on time without problems. 
Aaaaaand I just jinxed myself. 
Great.

We're going on a great start, y'all.

My new renthouse is situated on level four this semester, though luckily I got somewhere within the same apartment compound and the same block so I don't have to re-familiarize myself with the environment. But the whole level four thing is really huge because my legs are still cramping and I'm out of breath like an asthmatic person by the time I reach my house. 
No joke, I actually cried a little thinking when I had to lug all of my shit when I moved in. Without the help of the contractor -he came over to have me sign tenant contract and shit, I would've probably suffered a whole lot more than I had to. 

As for the time being, I have yet to get any roommates and I'm taking advantage of that for all it's worth. Some people will be coming in soon, I heard, so I'm treasuring what little time I have of being alone in this small, cramped room for now because God knows my room is built with the capacity of max one person but having two bunkbeds shoved into it with four lockers are not helping. I can imagine it'll be not unlike a sardine can.
Oh, well. 

At least I learned from my past mistake and made sure this house has wifi in it this time.
Lessons were learned, my friends.

Other than that, updates on trivial things, such as my emotional turmoil at having dunked myself in a new relationship on the first day of the new semester. I say dunked, because 40% of me is still largely paranoid and wary as all hell after my ex. And to top it off, the other person is a musician and someone who ultimately goes with his gut. 
Generally, I don't get along with this type of people because I believe that emotions are fickle and they change at the drop of a hat, so for me to believe someone who told me they'd fly across the globe (how far is Italy from Malaysia?) for a coffee date after just a month talking is nigh impossible. 
I entertain him, for the most part, because it's neither my money nor my place to tell him the effort is wasteful, but it's like how someone would entertain a painting hanging in the gallery, I guess. 

Besides, whether or not he comes to ask me out in person doesn't change that I enjoy talking with him for the most part. He's straightforward, but not in the blunt way I do. I appreciate someone who doesn't bumble around in the bushes waiting for me to step on a landmine. He reminds me a little of Aizawa, actually. Just a little.
The most important part is, I'm going into this not in the way I would've usually done with my relationships, which is all-or-nothing. This time, I'm going into it 60-40 because nobody could calculate the amount of pain and damage done from my ex. 

I can't go through that ever again. I won't.

It has to be that middle ground where I am happy to be, but if it crashes, I will be okay.
I can't go around parading the fact that I'd given them my entire heart and soul just for it to be given back to me. Returned to sender. It can never be like that anymore.

Lesson learned.