The family and I watched the fight last night. The pride of the Philippines Manny Pacquiao vs Golden Boy Oscar De La Hoya.

Pacquiao is unstoppable. He took out many mexican fighters (Diaz, Moralez, Barerra, and others) prior to De La Hoya.

Pacquiao was dominating in the 7th and 8th rounds and almost knocked De La Hoya down.

After the 8th, De La Hoya gave up and Pacquiao won by a technical knock out (TKO).

De La Hoya was a fighting pride of all his hispanic and other supporters but when he gave up this fight, I think he lost respect from his fans.

Although a smart decision to end a fight he can not win, a fighter with such a reputation and much earned respect, giving up was a major disappointment.

"The true identity of a man, what separates him from all others, is that defining moment when giving up seems like the last resort. When there is no other option left, he pushes for glory, respect, and honor. This is what seperates him from all others, and this is what he will be remembered by" (Derick M. Rombaoa, 2008).

I'm so sad again, miserable, and depressed. She does not understand. I am only this way because of her, because of giving up feelings and needs so she can be happy. She gives nothing in return and I have nothing left to give. I need comfort, understanding, and companionship. She bitches about how I sound and that I'm sad. The only way to have a descent conversation or even day is to force myself not to sound sad, to pretend i am not unhappy. If I don't, she gets mad. Why cant she just comfort me and make things better? She trys but a minute later she reverses all her efforts and kicks me down even more. If I complain shes says "I tried and its your fault your still sad!" I am tired of being alone and always soo miserable. I have nothing left to give, nothing left for myself, and yet she stills keeps kicking me down and squeezing the life left of me. She goes out, has fun with her friends while I'm stuck working my ass off to pay off her useless expenses and going home tired only to sit and write essays all night. She goes home and tells me how much fun she had and how happy she is. I'm happy for her but of course hearing this is going to hurt. She doesn't even care about the shit I go through day-to-day. If I start to sound sad of say anything about having a tiring day, she gets mad. She tells me she wants to be happy and I'm fucking that up. I'm soo sick and tiered of feeling like a slave, tiered of living double standards, tiered of being unhappy.