A Girl Deserves More

When a GIRL is quiet ... millions of things are running in her mind. When a GIRL is not arguing ... she is thinking deeply. When a GIRL looks at u with eyes full of questions ... she is wondering how long you will be around. When a GIRL answers " I'm fine " after a few seconds ... she is not fine at all. When a GIRL stares at you ... she is wondering why you are lying. When a GIRL lies on your chest ... she is wishing for you to be hers forever. When a GIRL wants to see you everyday... she wants to be pampered. When a GIRL says " I love you " ... she means it. When a GIRL says " I miss you " ... no one in this world can miss you more than that. Life only comes around once make sure u spend it with the right person .... Find a guy ... who calls you beautiful instead of hot; who calls you back when you hang up on him; who will stay awake just to watch you sleep; Wait for the guy who ... kisses your forehead; Who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats. Who holds your hand in front of his friends. Who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you. Who turns to his friends and says, “That’s her!! "

Recently, the above was posted on my Fun Wall on Facebook… (Alas, yes, I am one of the mindless lemmings that have fallen into the sinkhole that is Facebook addiction.) I normally ignore things posted on my Fun Wall as they tend to be a version of SPAM mail but the above really caught my attention.

As mentioned before, the path of love never did run smooth for me. Then again, I am a drama queen so no surprises there. In any case, I recently attended a party where someone I used to be involved with, the girl who tried to wreck our relationship and the current “flavour du jour” in his life were all in attendance. I went with the idea that we were all adults and that I would be mature i.e. I would be civil to both the ladies mentioned above. Surprisingly, the relationship-wrecker was pleasant and made an effort to be friendly and we had no dramas with each other. Unfortunately, “Flavour du jour” despite being the oldest, had problems with acting her age (proving that age is never a true indication of maturity). She basically cut me point blank and gave me death stares all night. She could not even manage a simple polite “Hello”. I am guessing they ran out of simple courtesy the day she was hatched.

The rest of the party was not unpleasant for me - I had my own little fan club that tragically seemed to be in it mostly for my cookies; there was plenty of alcohol and other good company and a double apple shisha pipe set up - other than the few awkward moments when our paths would cross. It got to the point where the inner bitch in me was ready to snap and I was so tempted to wipe the smug smile off her face; all I had to do was tell her not to be too happy because he was cheating on her. Not that anyone who knew him would be surprised. I’ve known him longer than she has and he’s come running back to me more times than she’s been with him and yet she holds on to the delusional idea that he belongs to her. But I couldn’t do it because I knew she would be leaving and while it would give me great pleasure, it was not my place to be the one to break her heart or cause more trouble in their already shaky (loosely-defined) relationship.

Yet, as I stood there watching her with my feeling of smug superiority, I could feel the feeling fade as I realized to myself that I really had nothing to be proud of. So what if he has come running back to me many times? At the end of the day, I was still his dirty little secret in the entire duration of our relationship. Yes, he had the ability to make me feel attractive and desired at times but at the end of the day, I do not really want a guy who thinks I’m hot. I DO WANT someone who thinks I am beautiful just the way I am (both inside and outside), even when I have bed hair or sleep wrinkles on my face.

Nobody ever wants to be the other woman that a man cheats on his girlfriend with, nor does she want to be the ever-willing booty call for a total player…and yet, for him, I’ve been put in those roles. Yes, a mistress sounds like the sexy, glamorous one…But I’d rather have the "boring" security of being the publicly-acknowledged significant other in a Man’s life. I want to be not just #1, but the only one.

Simply because...as the commerical goes, I'm Worth It.

Fashion A.D.D

I am a serial cheater. The concept of fidelity is utterly foreign to me… when it comes to my wardrobe.

I have Fashion A.D.D. 80% of my wardrobe is less than 3 months old. Despite having a wardrobe and a whole spare room crammed full of clothes, I constantly lament that “I have nothing to wear”. The normal (logical) person’s purchase evaluation process typically follows the stages of information search, product evaluation (which includes price) followed by purchase. My purchase evaluation process is every marketer’s (specifically visual merchandiser’s wet dream): The typical train of thought for me is “Ohhhhh pretty!” followed by me blithefully taking it to straight to the counter for purchase, unless of course, I am distracted by some other shiny, sparkly thing. This results in me having items in my wardrobe that still have their tags on it. I fall instantly in love with a product’s presentation and purchase while still in a haze of infatuation and then, promptly leave it in my wardrobe with the other (past) objects of momentary desire. They lie there squashed and forgotten till it’s time for my spring clean (which generally happens every two – three months and conveniently around the time I run out of closet space).

I know it sounds like an extravagant waste for me to have such blatant disregard when it comes to spending (squandering) on clothes but I seriously have a short attention span when it comes to fashion. My commitment and level of faithfulness to my wardrobe is sadly not correlated to the price-tag of said items. I have days when my logic does not go on a vacation when I am shopping (though they are rare) where I try and justify the price and need for any item of clothing. Sadly, again, in my fashion-addicted (addled in the opinion of some); “need” is loosely defined as anything that I want or develop crushes on. Window shopping for me is buying everything in the window. I cannot live without fashion…I am nothing if I cannot be Barbie.

Do not get me wrong. I am not some brand whore who will only dress head-to-toe in labels. I may give many the wrong impression of being high-maintenance purely due to the creed I live by: “It is ok to be late for class but it is not ok to rock up without my make-up and hair done, dressed fashionably and finished off with a smashing pair of heels” but the truth is, I am a big fan of Target (mockingly pronounced as Tar-zhay) and Big W (for non-Aussies, it’s like Wal-Mart). The key to putting a look together in my opinion is in accessorizing. How you put together an outfit matters: with the right accessories, a $12.98 dress from Big W looks like it came from one of the high-end boutiques while a $1298.00 dress could look like an op-shop buy if not carried off well.

In any case, in my recent wardrobe clean-out, I finally decided to let go of some of my past neglected loves. It is often hard to let go of loved ones in our past, but sometimes, it is important to get rid of unnecessary baggage. So far, I’ve managed to clear out about two big suitcases of clothes and I am yet to start on my bags and shoes yet. I normally like to give them away to charity, specifically this women’s refuge my friend works for as I hope that in doing so, someone else will fall in love with them and they can move on to a more fulfilling relationship in which they are cared for. However, my daddy has recently informed me that my decision to remain in Australia after graduation is an indication to him that I’m all grown up now and no longer requires his support, and therefore he is withdrawaing his financial assistance. Hence, I have no choice but to play pimp this time and sell my darlings on e-Bay. *SIGH*

On the bright side, I now have more capacity to fall in love with others. Learning to let go is something that we often have trouble with, but when you have little expectations and learn to do what is right for you (despite the reluctance to let go of the past and/or accept change). There is a saying in Mandarin that translates into “If the old doesn’t go, the new doesn’t come”. Now that I have let go of the old, I have now been happily (well, not in the case of my bank account) adding to my collection of “Don’t be jealous I’m hot, Bitch”. Recent additions include a gorgeous Alannah Hill Couture dress that will be spending a memorable night with me at my graduation dinner along with a beautiful Cue dress in a striking magenta that squeezes my coke-can bottle into the illusion of a coke-bottle that I will be debuting at my Office Christmas party among others. The best part is, they, unlike their predecessors, do not say “It’s Vegas, Baby” or “I work on King Street (for non-Melbies, King Street is the stretch where you’d find all the strip joints or so-called gentlemen’s clubs)”. I am very pleased because in contrary to popular opinion, I am not “Every Fantasy Barbie without the Blonde Hair” nor do I aspire to be “Paris Hilton but smarter”. (No offense to her as I think she is smarter than given credit for.)

Sometimes, in the most frivolous, trivial and small things in life, you learn valuable lessons. About a month ago, I was unable to let go of a past love the way I was unable to get rid of a gorgeous but useless dress from my collection. But circumstances made us part ways (by the former’s choice and by the untimely demise of the latter fashion past paramour of mine). It wasn’t easy but I learnt to live without either. Yet, a month after the former told me to “eff off”, he was the one who contacted me and said he missed me. As with my former fashion paramour, I was recently given a much better replacement for it. Similar but improved; just as reconciliation with the past love is on favorable terms for me.

Disillusioned with the male species: I need to start having lesser faith in them.

Men are Mars, Women are from Venus. It’s such an understatement. I swear, as long as I’m concerned, we might as well be from vastly-different far-flung galaxies. Yes, I know that modern society has seen a convergence in male/female behavior when it comes to traits that were once mutually exclusive to each sex but at the end of the day, call a spade, a spade.

I admit that at this point in time, I am perhaps not at my most rational and is feeling rather incensed at the opposite sex. Perhaps it’s just bad timing or maybe bad things are meant to happen in threes but in the past two days, I’ve had three unpleasant encounters with friends of the opposite sex that has left me with a somewhat irrational conviction that the opposite sex are all (Insert your favorite derogatory term). I know it’s unfair to generalize but at this point, I am beyond weighing out the validity or fairness of such a sweeping statement.

I’m not saying that I’m entirely blameless at all but sometimes I wish that bad things wouldn’t happen all at once and leave you feeling like you’re trapped in a rapidly-enclosing ring of fire with no chance of escape.

I am not feeling at my best at the moment; I recently had a falling out with a cousin who often blows hot-and-cold with me. I suppose I am tired of her treating me like crap and thinking that she is entitled to it because she’s older. I don’t think anyone deserves to be treated like a human substitute for an emotional punching bag, even more so if it concerns blood.

If that wasn’t enough, I get a call from a friend, whose callosity has been a constant bone of contention, who as usual, managed to be insensitive and annoying without even trying.

Monday being the start of a new week was no indication of a fresh (and better) start: a good friend of mine and I had a miscommunication problem due to a cultural and language difference. Ultimately, the frustration of being misunderstood left me in tears which infuriated me further.

Needless to say, I was, at this point, pretty much feeling that I had hit rock-bottom but of course, Murphy’s law requires that fate should kick a dog when it’s down, and my hopes of salvaging what was left of the night with plans to hang out with a friend fell through as said person ended up blowing off plans with me after pushing plans back for the third time… Maybe I was putting way too much stock on it but being blown off just felt like utter rejection. I know I am not his girlfriend and cannot expect (reasonably) to be his op priority but when I show the value I place on our friendship by setting time aside to spend time with a friend, I do not think it is unreasonable to expect some measure of the same respect in return. I was basically left feeling like I was not even on the list of consideration of priorities at all, which is not a good feeling for a friend to feel.

If I were to be perfectly honest, I would say that I was especially upset because this friend and I had only recently started talking again after a month of "walking away from each other" and I suppose, his decision to make the first move to reconcile had left me with false hopes that maybe this time round, he would treat me a little better. It has not even been a week and he's already showing signs that " a leopard never changes its spots".

I suppose if I hadn’t already had such a bad day: feeling entirely misunderstood, wretchedly tired and just in need having one person who didn’t seem to be “hating on me”, I would have been less sensitive and not taken it so hard but unfortunately, it was just one of those days where you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed. It is probably sheer coincidence that all my run-ins happened to be mostly with my male friends (given the higher proportion of male friends that I have) but it still left me feeling very much like a “man-hater” and wishing fervently that the Amazons were the dominant race.

My cousin (a girl) was nice enough to listen to me rant and rave; she even accompanied me for a midnight trip to the pancake place so that I could “comfort eat” away my disgruntlement and I do sort of feel better now that I’ve had a(n unneeded) sugar and fat fix.

But as it always is with me, I had an epiphany along the way… One of the reasons why a lot of girls feel the need for a boyfriend is because when you’re feeling crap and like nobody cares about you, your boyfriend is the most probable person who will think you are perfect the way you are and is the most likely person to tell you: “There, there…It’s all going to be ok.” I know we all have friends who can fulfill the same role but I guess it’s just never quite the same as having someone making you feel like you’re number one, especially if someone else has made you feel that you aren’t a priority at all.

Sometimes, it really does not matter if you do countless good things everyday that goes unnoticed…all it takes is one bad thing to happen (unintentional or otherwise) and suddenly, all eyes are on you and the fingers are pointing accusingly. And the worst is when you're too tired to even argue any more.

Watching Stars without you, My soul Cries

Pride can stand a thousand trials
The strong will never fall
But watching stars without you
My soul cries

Once I dreamt of forever with you but the tides of change came and swept those romantic idealisms away and now, I’m left standing alone; wandering if maybe pragmatism was a plain mistake…

Yesterday, my brother took the plunge and signed up for the ol’ “ball & chain” and he did it on a bended knee and a big silly grin on his face. I suppose, to those who are still running away from any semblance of commitment, especially in the relationship department, my brother’s actions are akin to that of an innocent man willingly stepping before a firing squad or signing your own death sentence. To be honest, I think like all girls, it’s been ingrained into me that there is a certain age when the biological clock starts ticking (in overdrive) and society (specifically your family) starts nagging at you to start showing signs of settling down and finding a significant other. Of course, once you get there, a whole new round of nagging starts on the subject of marriage and eventually, children. Oh…if only we could just split down the middle like amoebas and avoid the whole nagging process. But then again, I would have to be honest and say that there are other benefits to not being asexual like the amoebas. (Yes, I have a filthy mind, or rather, YOU have a filthy mind…)

In any case, my brother’s engagement has left me feeling nothing but the greatest joy for him and for my new future sister-in-law but their engagement does add another number to the growing tally: My cousin (and God-brother) is getting married in May next year; I recently attended a friend’s engagement dinner (last week) and the wedding is in October next year (of which, I am the Maid of Honour); during the winter break in July, I attended a friend’s wedding and other engagements and weddings that have happened in the past year or so… Suddenly, it seems like my “nearest and dearest” have suddenly succumbed to the “wedded bliss” mania and have started a sprint down the proverbial church aisle in a pattern that is beginning to resemble a mass migration pattern. For the single girl like me, it does not bode well at all… (even if I am getting to the age where all my peers are starting to pair up and making it legal)

Amidst the girding of my mental health against the nagging attacks I fully expect when I do return to Singapore for a well-deserved break after being done with Uni (forever! Or for the near future…), I started an unintentional meander down Memory Lane and was brought back to a time when I too, felt a similar mien to everyone else on the “Wedding Race”. Of course, I was young(er) then and did not think too much about marriage beyond the big frou-frou wedding and 21 is too young (for me anyway) to be wed. Still, the pain of calling off a wedding is still significant, even if you are the party responsible for being the “love-wrecker” but I still stand by “better the love-wrecker than the love-wrecked”.

In any case, I digress…

I found myself reminiscing about a time when love to me was young and idealistic and I lived for the day when I would put on that white dress and walk down the aisle and become Mrs. So-and-So. To be very honest, the engagement ring probably left the strongest impression in my bling-obsessed Mynah-like mind but the memories of feeling like you have found the man you want to spend the rest of your life with did come creeping back into my subconscious like a cheating husband sneaking home to bed. I remember a diary entry I wrote just after we had ended things and the feelings were still raw; Oh! How in love I (thought) I was then…

July 10 2005


How do you know when you’re in love with someone?

When you pray more for that person than you do for yourself;
When that person is away from you for more than an hour, you miss them.
When you carry that person in your soul everywhere you go.
When they smile, you feel that your world is going to be fine.

On the way back to Singapore, I caught a movie called ‘Diary of A Mad Black Woman’. I loved it. It was a really powerful and emotional drama that really caught my heart. It was a movie that made me cry at parts. A vacation is something you go on to relax yourself. But sometimes, when you’re relaxed, it gives yourself time to think.

I’ve had a lot of time to think and what troubles me is that you are constantly in my thoughts. Mostly, I guess because Japan was one of the places we were going to visit together. I remember how we used to speculate if the both of us could pass for locals in Japan because of our small eyes. And it happened. I was mistaken for a local twice while I was there, and each time I thought of you.

It rained for the first three days that we were in Kyoto. The tour guide told us a little anecdote about how her grandmother used to be happy when it rained because she could walk under an umbrella with her husband in rain rather than three steps behind as was the usual custom. She also told us about how drawing an umbrella with a guy’s and girl’s name written under it was a popular graffiti design among youngsters as a symbol of their love. All of these little tales only led me to thinking of you more. I remember an incident last year in Melbourne. It had started raining heavily while we were out and we were sharing an umbrella. It was really gusty and you held the umbrella with one hand while you put your other arm around me so that we would fit better under the umbrella. Thinking back of that incident makes me melt inside because I remember how concerned you were about making sure that I didn’t get wet.

In Osaka, a visit to the Kaiyukan Aquarium brought more thoughts of you rushing into my heart. I saw a very young couple in the aquarium on a family outing with their toddler. The guy kinda reminded me of you and how scarily close we came to being them. It also reminded me of the time we went to the Aquarium in Sydney. It was one of the most fun-filled days of my life, walking around Darling Harbour pretending to be tourists and just being silly and having fun. When there were more laughter than tears and there were no damning silences.

In Tempozan Village, I rode the Giant Ferris Wheel. As we rose higher and higher in the air, I got scared but even as I reached out for your hand to hold, a part of me realized that you were not there. Not like the last time we went to the amusement park, and you held my hand instinctively before I could reach yours, and without making fun of my silly fear of the Ferris Wheel.

At the Floating Garden Observatory, I felt like I was on top of the world. Seeing the rest of Osaka spread out beneath me. As the sun set in the sky, I felt a sense of calm and peace overcome me. I felt how it was to be a small organism in a vast world. Mostly, I felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration. And underneath it all, I instinctively thought of you first and how it never bothered me how big and scary the world was, as long as you were there with me throughout it all.

Wherever I went, it evoked memories of you and the instinct of how much I would have loved to renew old memories and share each new experience with you…

All these memories of our past
Linger in my heart
Unwilling to let go of what I hold dear
Thoughts of you follow me constantly.
Wondering all the time if I was wrong
Is this love or residual feelings?
I’m so confused.

Missing you, needing you.
Not knowing what I really want;
How do I live without you?

Present Day Thoughts: But Life did go on and 2 years on, I made it without him. Qui Vivra Verra; C'est La Vie.

Special in HIS eyes

On 6 June 2005, I experienced my first pain of true heartbreak. Not the insipid self-pitying bouts of teary fits that one goes through with each unrequited crush, but the kind that strikes you with little warning or fanfare. On an ordinary day with no extraordinary circumstances. Like a undetected time-bomb that had reached 00:00, the deceptively fragile walls surrounding my heart shattered and I lost the veil of denial and suppression that had been cloaking my emotional realm.

8.24a.m on a wintry Melbourne morning, waiting at Tram Stop 127 on Lygon St for Tram No. 1 to take me to the Examination Venue for my Financial Accounting paper. There was nothing particularly abnormal going on beyond the usual stress, tiredness and general grouchiness that cloaks one in a coiling miasma of doom and gloom. I had my iPod turned up loud as I attempted to drown out the chaos of the real world; in the midst of listening to Mr Richard Lee drone on about the merits of the various accounting compliance practices, something in me snapped at his 19th incantation of "self-governance"; if I was a frail old biddy named Minnie living in Victorian times, one could say that it was the moment my "nerves were shot".

Till today, I still have not pinpointed the exact reasons for my unforseeable (and definitely undesired) emotional meltdown. It could have been the stress of my course load during my final semester of my B. Comm (Accounting); it could have been the miserable winter dreariness; it could have been the general feeling of isolation and increasing apathy I was cultivating...whatever the reasons, they weren't new symptoms that were drastic enough to evoke such a reaction.

Suffice to say, I have no recollection of taking my Financial Accounting Paper and am still in awe of the fact that I not only managed to fill an exam scriptbook for such a mind-numbingly boring subject but actually managed to do it with adroitness. The ensuing days were a convenient blur and the jury is still out on whether I actually managed to recover fully from that episode.

In any case, writing has always been one of the outlets that has provided me with the means of catharsis without ever having to face the embarrassment of actually having to show any sign of weakness to anyone of my acquaintance;at my darkest moment, when there seemed to be no one to save me from drowning in a sea of my own self-induced abyss, I took a stab at throwing myself a life-line. Whatever I poured out that night to the white screen of my computer must have worked because I'm still here today blogging about it.

Two years, five months and 3 days later, that little piece of work surfaced just when I (unconsciously) needed it. I stumbled upon it while cleaning up my external hard-drive. The foolish girl who first authored it is not quite the same one anymore (and is hopefully less foolish) but the strength and hope I drew from it then is still valid in the current circumstances:


And we know that all things work together for good to them that love GOD, to them who are called according to his purpose.

-Romans 8:28

It’s a feeling that constantly resides in me: this feeling that in a world full of sparkling diamonds, no one will notice a dull, unpolished stone like me. It’s a feeling that I battle constantly. It’s as if I am unable to accept it as my lot in life and often, I fight desperately to steal some of the limelight while others gain it effortlessly; so passed my growing years. Part of growing up is not just being self-aware but being aware of your surroundings, it is only when you learn that there are others in the world more important than you, that you truly learn to be gracious about your lot in life. There are six billion people in the world and not everyone can be in first place; learning to accept that you’re not meant to be first is a first step into not feeling inadequate constantly. If I never come first in anyone’s life, I will appreciate the fact that I know there is someone out there who holds a special place in his heart for me; GOD.

Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust in him; and he shall bring it to pass.

-Psalms 37: 4,5

It’s not always easy to accept that you’re ordinary because everyone likes to believe that they are special in their own way. I’ve tried fooling myself with that but I realize striving to find something special about myself only leaves me feeling more inadequate and inferior when I realize that I am not special in that area. So, here I am, learning to accept that I’m average. All I ever really wanted was to be special in someone’s eyes. Maybe I went looking in the wrong places because in every place I looked, all I found was that someone else had already occupied the special place that I thought was meant for me.

Jesus said unto him, if thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.

-Mark 9:23

Somewhere out there, there is someone who likes me for me. Somewhere out there, there are many others who are not meant for me. In life, I will meet many people; people who will warm my heart, people who will break my heart. Even if I think I’ve met the right one, God may think otherwise. Truth is, nobody really knows what the big scheme of life is. But you can’t give up because you are scared of being hurt.

Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

-Philippians 4:6-7

I’m not shy to admit that in life, I’ve met with many disappointments. I’m battle-worn with emotional scars, both old and new. Some took a long time to heal, some healed quickly. Even some that never really healed at all. But I won’t give up the good fight so easily. I’ve cried, I’ve questioned, I’ve rend my soul a thousand times; pouring out endless sorrows and woes into a journal that no one will read. Yet, at the end of the day, I go back to the one source that gives me the greatest comfort- God. And I ask Him to heal me where I have been unable to patch the wound myself and He hasn’t failed me. The spoils of victory aren’t always what we have our eyes set on. But if you open your eyes wide, you’ll see that you have not fought for nothing. Along the way, you reap rewards that you may have been too myopic to notice but they are there. Some are intangible and invisible to the naked eye, but if you listen to your heart and what God puts in there, you will see that all is not lost.

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.

-Isaiah 26:3

And I am humbled by how GOD has given me so much, even though I give Him so little of myself in return. Of all the times I have disappointed God, but yet, he has never ceased to love me unconditionally: the times when I accused Him of not being there for me, when he has been. In His infinite wisdom, He knows when I am ready and sometimes, there are lessons to be learnt. If I learn to accept his will without question, I would be better off. I’m not perfect and I’m still learning but I know, He’ll always be there for me.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be trouble, neither let it be afraid.

-John 14:27

With so much on my plate right now, I haven't had time to actually slow down, catch my breath and evaluate the emotional state I am in; studies, exams and work have taken over my life. But while I had forgotten about myself, there was still somone out there watching over me and when He saw me getting increasingly lost in the darkness, He sent a little flicker of light my way to show me that I was never truly alone.

Faith is a funny thing...you never truly know how strong it is till your instincts kick in.

Veritas vos liberabit (The Truth will set you free)…

I have learnt instead, that its ugliness will suffocate you. One word packs sufficient potency to bring the fragile walls you put around your heart crashing down. And the only person you can effectively blame is your own self.

I have lived in a state of denial for a long time. I allow myself to believe the pithy excuses I’ve been given; rationally, they would have held up like a ra-ra skirt on a typical Melbourne Winter day but the mind (or more specifically, the heart) hears what it wants to hear. I suppose I have been hanging onto the tattered remnants of the past. If I have been living with false hope, it was certainly not from external encouragement.

I have never understood how it’s always good with men up till the moment they leave you. One minute, you’re laughing together and painting a picture of forever and the next, he’s gone, and it’s as he was never there at all, except for the burning imprint in your heart. Forgive me my generalizations but there seems to be a general modus operandi for men to leave as fast and as far as they can when a relationship is no longer perfect bliss.

I suppose it should not come as a surprise. He never loved me and never claimed to. It was I who was constantly searching for any clue that he could feel more for me; anything that would alleviate me from the status of “glorified booty call”. Yet, I still pushed. I demanded reasons for why he couldn’t (or more aptly, wouldn’t) consider taking things further with me. The reasons I got were typical: he was not ready to have a relationship, etc.

So, you can imagine my immense hurt to hear him refer to his latest “bit of fluff” as his GIRLFRIEND. He told me it was just fun; that she was leaving at the end of the year, so there was no long-lasting relationship there. LIES… I know his defense will be that circumstances change but it does not make it hurt any less for me. Nothing can soften the blow of knowing that there was nothing I could have done to have made things worked for us.

I’ve quoted Oprah Winfrey before:

“If a man really wants you, nothing can keep him away; if a man does not want you, nothing can make him stay.”

Sunt facta verbis difficiliora (Works are harder than words): It is easy to dish out platitudes but it is extremely difficult to practice what you preach. I did everything I could to show him that I could be the perfect girlfriend for him but like his friends told me, the issue was not my eligibility as a girlfriend but rather the fact that he would not make me a good boyfriend. You cannot make someone love you, no matter how much you try. That being said, sometimes, you do not have to do anything to make someone love you. It just happens. You are loved just the way you are. I know many people who would be letting out a cynical laugh as they read that last line.

After all, we all know that it is a “fact of life” that Varium et mutabile semper femina (a woman is always a changeable and capricious thing): women spend their whole lives searching for that perfect man and (if they are lucky) they marry him; they then spend the rest of their lives trying to change him. Women never really outgrow their love of playing with dolls. In this situation, boyfriends/husbands/significant others/partners become their KEN Dolls except that love allows them to do a holistic overhaul of said subject to suit their idealistic fantasies.

Yet, let’s not give women such a bad name. Yes, women do tend to harbor such characteristics but women exhibit behavior on the other end of the spectrum: “Is it (insert imaginary flaw)? I can change!!!” We’ve all heard (or used) that expression before. Three words that spell out the desperation of a woman in love: I. CAN. CHANGE. Does that not then defeat the purpose of what we define true love to be? TRUE LOVE demands loving someone the way they are. O sancta simplicitas (O sacred simplicity)…if only love and the matters of the heart were that simple.

We are people. We fought our way to the top of the food chain and we consider ourselves civilized because we communicate vocally and set rules for society to follow. But ultimately, the basic human instinct follows the laws of nature. Men are territorial and they will fight to guard what is theirs. On a similar vein, the spoils of victory cannot be savored unless a war is fought. Maybe it is a trait not as dominant in the present as it was with our ancestors but it does still remain a part of a Man’s DNA. Again, the basic law of Human Nature applies: Qui multum habet, plus cupit (He who has much desires more): we want what we do not have.

I was an easy mark. He never had to fight for me. He knew I was interested and I caved in way too early and easily. He had me, he had his fun and he got over me just as quickly. Pure and Simple? Perhaps to his male logic, it was; but in my female (complicated) mind, things just do not end (resolve) themselves so easily. When he walked away from me, I chose to play the martyr/victim and say that he was a bastard for treating me in such a manner and being cold-hearted in walking away. I am not saying the guy was the perfect gentleman or an angel but I have to admit that that is the usual modus operandi for most men: when you do not feel for the girl (or in his case, she has served her purpose), you walk away. If I were to be honest, I wish I could be more like a man in that aspect. To be able to walk away without first having to spend forever living in the memories of the past and the land of “what-could-have-been” and “if only”.

If it were only him, I could write this phenomenon off as a one-off and I would not be sitting here at four in the morning on a Saturday writing this; I should be summoning up the strength to undo the straps of my impossibly-high heels, taking off my make-up and hobbling on numb feet to my bed, exhausted after a big fun night out. My little escapade with Rebound guy ended on a similar note and the guy I was genuinely interested in after him went down the same path; Hinc illæ lacrimæ (Therefore these tears).Once is an accident, two a coincidence but three? It’s a conspiracy or rather to sound less paranoid (and more normal), there is a pattern beginning to emerge. Nemo sine vitio est (No one is without fault): Let’s not be a pompous, arrogant fool and say that I am blame-free but let’s also give one to the self-esteem and self-confidence department by admitting that maybe, just maybe…there is the remote possibility that it’s not all me.

“Marry in haste, repent at leisure”

I swear, it has to be one of the most ridiculous phrases I have ever heard. Marriage should not be entered into lightly. Desperation is in truth, not a valid reason to swap your maiden name for his and sign up for joint accounts. We all know someone whose choice of a life-partner continues to leave us bemused; I can assure you that when you ask someone incredulously why she married the fella, one of the most probable (and common) answer you’d get is “She turned 30 (or insert appropriate age milestone.” Crudelius est quam mori semper timere mortem (It is crueler to always be afraid of dying than to die): fear of spinsterhood (loneliness) spurs women into drastic action. Yes, like all little girls, I have dreamed of the perfect wedding but marriage is not just about the frou-frou white dress; the chance to make your best friend wear an ugly dress she’d never wear again just to make you look beautiful; the romantic church ceremony; the glitzy dinner or any of the superficial things.

Marriage is forever. It is built upon the foundations of love: Omnia vincit amor (Love conquers all); but most significantly, it is about commitment. What is commitment? Is it being able to stay faithful to someone in a long distance relationship? I suppose it could be. But to me, true commitment is waking up and seeing the same person brush his teeth every morning for 30 years (or however long you live after marriage). Marriage is not about the blissful romantic moments or the occasional fights. It is about being able to live with the person everyday in ordinary circumstances without feeling like you want to tear your hair out and run screaming through the streets.

Si vis amari, ama (If you want to be loved, love).We all want to fall in love and marry the perfect man (or woman). But the two do not necessarily come in a package: we do not always love the perfect person for us. For reasons we can never fathom, love comes in the strangest places and sometimes, Nondum amabam, et amare amabam (I did not love, even if I yearned to love):we can try our hardest but feel no passion for the perfect man (or woman). He/she may possess all the qualities we look for in a mate but if there is no chemistry, there is nothing there. Yet, we can love someone who is not quite right or totally wrong for us; movies and songs center around this theme of loving the wrong person and the resulting heartbreak.

I do not advocate marrying the “safe choice” or saying that the only marriages that will work are the boring, vanilla relationships. Security, faithfulness, trust, commitment and love are the tenements of marriage. But that is not what I am arguing about today. There are two kinds of people in this world: the ones who find love permanently and those who are meant to be alone. I feel that many women fear the latter greatly and hence, enter into marriage posthaste to avoid facing their phobias.

Non nobis solum nati sumus (We are not born for ourselves alone): The thought of marriage and the need to be with someone is genetically-ingrained in me hence, my constant laments over my perpetual state of singleness but I am beginning to learn that being alone does not necessarily mean being lonely and jumping from one hot frying pan only to land in another does not help to make you forget your initial woes; you just create more.

My opening statement is a phrase that is oft-used in the English language but what not many people know is that its origins come from the Bible:

“If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The truth WILL set you free. If the set conditions are met: you need to know it, believe it and accept it. Otherwise, the truth loses all significance. I know the truth -even if tragically, it had to be learnt the hard way but then again, Quae nocent, docent (What harms, teaches). I am making headway in believing the truth given that it is hard not to when the evidence for the case it is building up to grows each day (that and the therapy sessions I’ve been through). But I am so far from acceptance that I cannot even fathom a light at the end of the tunnel.

Video meliora proboque deteriora sequor (I see the better and acknowledge it, but I follow the worse). This, unfortunately, is the reason why the ugliness of the truth suffocates me.

Yet, Dum Spiro Spero (When I breathe, I hope). Stat sua cuique dies (The date is set for each and everyone): I believe my day (of acceptance) will come and Forsan et hæc olim meminisse iuvabit (Perhaps even this one day will be pleasant to look back on) and if I am lucky, Suum cuique (To each what he deserves): the right one will come along for me and Karma will finally come around to bite him on his ass.

P.S: If this post sounds as if I have had a Latin dictionary grafted onto my brain, I do
apologize but I was tickled by the notion of Omnia dicta fortiora si dicta Latina
(Everything sounds more impressive in Latin).

The Lingering Past of a Love Masochist

I didn’t forget about you. It was just easier to stop talking about you…

We all make mistakes or do things we’re not proud of but what if, as much as you try, you are unable to bury it in the past and let sleeping dogs lie? After all that’s been said and done, you would think that there was nothing left to resurrect. It is the hardest thing to move on just because the other party has, and not because you’re ready. I think my biggest fear is that I will never be able to move on, at least, not for a long time.

Everyone has that one person who blew into their life like a storm (and blew out leaving an equally catastrophic aftermath) and stirred up feelings in them that they never knew existed; someone who inspires you to do things you never thought you’d do or say. Being involved (or in my case, falling in love) with this person, is like opening Pandora’s Box: once opened, you can never go back. The status quo is irrevocably changed and very likely, not for the better.

I loved with a passion and we fought with a passion. I went through the many stages of trying to define my relationship with this person and till this day, there is no neat little compartment to categorize it. All the scattered emotions are still flung about willy-nilly, flooding the surrounding areas with grey and I believe, try as I may, there will never be a black-and-white delineation to define what it was that we had and what it is that we have now.

Perhaps all this drama is to some extent, self-inflicted. The fault lies on my part for being unable to let go of what I (may never have had and) so obviously have lost. Why is it so hard to let go of this romanticized ideal that I seem to so stubbornly hold onto of what I imagine our relationship should (or would) be like. Perhaps, it is the basic laws of Human Nature: You want what you cannot have. This person has demonstrated to me on many occasions that I cannot rely on this person or expect this person to ever set me as a priority and yet, given the opportunity, I crawl back to this person, swallowing my (towering) pride on every occasion, hoping to win this person back.

The pathetic part of this entire situation is that I am not doing this because I have no other options. I seem to be doing it out of a masochistic need to put myself through the wringer of love every single time. I have given my all in trying to tear myself out of this piteous scenario and to some extent, I have been successful in opening myself to new opportunities but if I had to be honest, I’d have to say that these distractions are merely temporarily. At the end of the day, I know that this person is my “one and only”… But I will never have him (or the chances are as slim as an African-American deciding to join the KKK).

On the surface, it appears as if I have moved on to greener pastures; I smile, I laugh, there is no awkwardness when I am asked about the situation between the both of us but the truth is, silence does not mean erasure, it’s mere suppression as my ego (viciously) makes me swallow my true feelings because it is better to suffocate the soul than admit the shameful state of things. I will kill myself before I will admit that the state of things between us is not fine.

The logical solution is to walk away and make a clean break. I wish it were that easy. All relationship self-help books will tell you to do this but sometimes, I wonder if these authors really know how hollow these platitudes sound; it is easy to sit on your lofty laurels and smile smugly as you dispense advice that is never self-followed or is irrelevant to your situation. I am a moth to this person’s flame and I think human nature (and the stubborn fool that I am) is such that the proverbial child will have a burning desire (pardon the pun) to play with fire when told explicitly not to.

Like any other female whose emotions are tied to the hormonal roller-coaster of my DNA and biological cycle, my self-esteem goes through the yo-yo stages of alternating between loving the person I am and self-loathing. I can guarantee you that every female (and males as well) go through days where they put themselves through a sadistic self-torture of feeling like they are ugly, pathetic, fat and that no one will ever love them or they do a self-evaluation and wonder why no one wants them even though they feel that they are not a bad person.

Women excel at this. I can safely say that a large proportion of women have been in the circumstances where they have passed a seemingly unattractive woman (as compared to themselves) on the street with an attractive man and wonder how come that woman has found someone and they haven’t. Of course, she will feel bad for being so “superficial” and the old “maybe she’s a wonderful person and he cares about more than looks” theory will surface. (This incidentally seems to be the default disclaimer that all women seem to automatically make in their minds; whether it is something we do to not appear mean or that women have herd mentality when it comes to platitudes.) The subsequent “logical” hypothesis she will then, theorize is that she is even worse than that woman and that is why no one wants her and panic and self-pity moves into her heart like the animals to Noah’s Ark during the big flood.

Don’t you love the logical fine-workings of a woman’s mind? “Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars”? Honey, I have news for you, we’re from a whole different solar system…

In any case, this flawed logic is often the result for why many a woman is so tied to someone who is obviously all wrong for them. In fact, just this afternoon, a work colleague and I were discussing the personal life of the store’s manager: that she’s attractive, driven and a lovely woman but yet, she’s dating a loser. In all of this, the cowardly hypocrite in me conveniently forgot that I was in a somewhat similar situation but I was slightly worse off in actually running after a “loser” who doesn’t want me. But let’s not make this (too much) about me…*smirk*

In any girly gossip exchange, one of the most oft-used phrases you will hear is “She can do so much better than him”. Of course she can! But such a pithy statement is easy to espouse when not walking in that woman's Manolo Blahniks (or insert your favored brand of heels). A woman in love (or desperation) is like a horse with blinkers on; she is blind to a man’s flaws: she sees only what she wants to see. In such circumstances, one could say that love is blind or the woman’s self-esteem is in such tatters that she thinks that the “paragon of virtue” that she has chosen to throw herself at, is anything but.

Which leads me to surmise one thing about myself: I am a LOVE MASOCHIST.

For some reason, I choose to put myself through hell when it comes to relationships. Yes, Love & Relationships are hard but I have a sneaky suspicion that 75% of the drama is all in my heart and head. (Not surprising honestly, given my drama queen predilections…) Why I feel the need to fight so hard for it to make it seem worthwhile is beyond me… Is it because I have a compelling compunction to do things the hard way so that I will appreciate it or are there other deeper reasons at play such as low self-esteem and commitment-phobia?

Either way, the self-sabotage seems to hark at latent S&M tendencies that really, are not that appealing in “a nice girl” like me.