This year has been a year of turbulence and change. I anticipated this long ago with the prep talks given by my colleagues who have been there, done that but still, I'm currently overwhelmed by life and the amount of major decisions I have to make barely two months into 2016. If this is something that everyone experiences in their twenties, when will it finally be over for me?

Being twenty is neither here nor there; I'm no longer a teenager but I'm also not an adult yet. Somehow, I think this is the prime time for me to make mistakes and learn from them. I can only live this life once and I don't want it to be a shielded life and thus, losing my chance to break free and gain experiences on my own.

I've always been so afraid of everything, especially change. I think it's time I come out of my shell and start exploring on my own. I'm only live once; if not now then when? One day, I'll find the right person who gives me stability and security, we'll settle down and I'll enjoy the serenity.

But not now.

For now, I love being rash and not having a care in the world. I live for myself, for today, for the moments that might never happen again. I know what people are going to judge my decision no matter what and the challenges might be too much for me to handle eventually; the odds are stacked against this, but I'm still going ahead with it. I'm going to be reckless with my heart. After all, I'm only young once and I only can be wild once.

There's no denying it, it's still going to hurt when my heart breaks. But I learnt through regrets that what hurts the most – even more than heartbreaks – is not taking the chances when they were right there in front of me. Taking that chance, that unconventional path, might just prove to be better than not knowing a definite answer for the rest of my life and having that what if feeling tugging on my sleeves.

“In the end, we only regret the chances we didn't take.”

I'm trying to live by this. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering anymore. If only I was brave enough to go against the odds, if only I cared less about what others think. If only if only if only. I'm so sick of these thoughts. This is my life; even if I make mistakes, I want to be responsible for them. I want to learn through my own mistakes, not live a politically correct life sheltered by everyone's mistakes.

Despite having my heart broken a thousand times, I'm still going to love fearlessly with all the remaining pieces. Although it may not lead us to anywhere, I still believe in this love. I still want to love like a fool while my heart still can afford to. I want to keep loving, keep caring, keep trying.

And I'm going to do that, even this one ends in a heartbreak.

Of all the things he taught me, the lesson that stood out the most was that he taught me how to cry. Before I met him, I thought romance movies were melodramatic. I never shed a tear watching those movies - they were nothing but overdone movies with exaggerated emotions. I always shrugged off every tearjerker movie/drama recommendations made by my friends; I never understood how some of them could cry four times over the same movie.

When he left, I forced myself to watch the last movie we caught together. Never mind that my tears were freely flowing and my eyes were so swollen they hurt even when I blinked. It was then that I realised why romance movies were so cliche and corny. Why they said things that never made sense. Why would someone give up his/her life for another.

Because they loved.

So did I.

We met each other and started talking around Christmas when I was 16. I turned 20 exactly three weeks ago - two weeks before our break up - and up till that point, I was still so in love with this guy. After meeting him, Christmases became special occasions because that's when we first met.

I fell into a love so deep it scared myself. I loved so hard, so much that I never knew it was possible. He was the guy of my dreams and I might even say, he was the love of my life. I know!!! It's so cliche - as if I'm writing a script for the movies I always hated - but the fact that I'm saying it without cringing... Hahaha. He really meant something to me.

Maybe romance movies never meant anything to me because our love story was my favourite. But now it's over. From the first day he walked out of my life, I never looked at romance stories the same way again.


One week on, I'm feeling much better. Instead of saying "I'll be okay", it's now "I'm okay". I know the sadness is still going to hit me periodically but with all the love everyone around me has been giving, I know that I'm going to get through this. No more tears this time round because I'm moving on.

I gave everything I got, even when there was nothing left; I gave him everything I had to give but he chose to throw it all away. I spent nights asking myself where have I gone wrong, way before our talk because I already knew where this relationship was headed. I finally understand that none of this is my fault.

I have tried my best and there's only so much I can do for someone who doesn't reciprocate. I have no regrets and will never have but I know one day the things he did will come back to haunt him. And he will forever remember the day he chose to walk away from someone who loved him more than she ever loved herself.

I'll keep trying to forget the good things he has done for me, keep reminding myself that he has changed and he no longer loves me. I'm going to stop trying to make things work with a stranger, stop blaming myself, stop spending my days in denial. He's not the man I used to know - that man would never hurt me like that. The man I love is never coming back.


I believe that when I let go of the wrong person, the right one will come by. It might take months or years, but when it eventually happens, it's going to be beautiful. If I can love the wrong person so deeply, just imagine what I'll do when the right one comes by. If the wrong one can make me laugh so hard, how unbelievably happy would I be with the right person?

Meanwhile, I'm still going to continue believing in love and give everything I have to the people I love. I'm still going to be that silly, selfless fool who loves fearlessly. I won't let one guy shape my perception of love. Love is still beautiful.

我一定会找到属于我自己的小幸运。

Which day after your break up do you consider to be the worst? The first day? A week later? Or a month later when reality finally hits? For me, it was the day right after. I only slept on hour the whole night and I went to work surviving on that hour of sleep. It didn't help that I was drunk and puked several times. Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck and I couldn't even breathe without tearing.

But I surprised myself when I found out that would be the last time I cry over this. I didn't cry to sleep that night and I didn't wake up in tears either. No more tears, no more drunk nights, no more hiding myself in the toilet to puke. I'm going to be alright, and for once, I'm really sure of that. It's true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, huh?

Still, I believe the process of breaking up, healing and moving on is a private thing and besides, both of us aren't even sure what's our status now so I didn't want to talk about it until things are established. But I guess some cynical tweets coupled with drunken snaps on my Snapchat (@pekyj), people started putting two and two together and I received some questions on my askfm, which I will not answer for now.

The best response I could give is this hastily Googled article that I found to be true, at least for us (link). Two adolescents on the verge of graduation, afraid of our future, not knowing what happens when we step foot into the working world. We're going to make lots of mistakes in our 20s - will this be one of them?

It hurts for me to not be in contact with him and it takes every single cell in me to resist stalking him on his social media accounts just to see how is he doing. At least I know he has a group of supportive friends and he's going to be okay. Making this decision was painful but, in that moment, I knew it was the most matured I've ever been in the past few years.

Taking a break is not necessary a bad thing. I see it as a time for us to rediscover ourselves and finding our identities again. Spending time apart from each other might just be more effective than ignoring the cracks in our relationship, which we have been doing. Maybe we will return to each other stronger and healthier. But of course, there's always the possibility that we will not bounce back from this.

It's a tough time for me now as I try to figure out where do we go from here, what I want and even who am I. I'm sure it's the same for him as well. We've been together for so long - almost 2.5 years - that we've lost ourselves. I guess we need to figure out if this is love we're feeling or attachment. Are we in love or in love with the idea of being in love? Do we still love each other or are we staying together because we got so used to having each other around?

And most importantly, one question I've been constantly asking myself: how can I love someone else if I don't love myself first?

That has been my problem in every relationship and I'm finally recognising that. I don't need someone else to love me, I'm the only one who needs to love myself. I think these two months will be good for me to find my self-worth and confidence. And I'm going to spend this time working on myself instead of worrying about things that never were.

Although I must say that being single after so long feels strange. Nobody cares what are my plans for the day, nobody asks who am I going out with, nobody's there to remind me to stop being a workaholic and go down for lunch, nobody to send me good night or good morning texts. Everyone wants someone who cares specially for them but I know this break is for the better. And the up side of this is that my phone's battery lasts a lifetime (2 days but that's a lifetime when it comes to iPhones) because I hardly pick up my phone to check for messages and I only reply when I'm in the mood.

I'm getting stronger but I'm not ready to talk about it on my blog yet. Plus, I'm rather protective of his privacy and I wouldn't want to say anything that would paint him as a bad guy. Maybe I will talk about us eventually. Someday, but just not today.

I'm only posting this now because I'm immensely thankful for all the people who appeared in my life since that day and I feel obligated to thank everyone. To those who left me a kind message, sent me encouraging snaps, gave me virtual hugs, thank you. I received so many messages in the past few days and I can only say, I didn't even know I have so many friends LOL.

The one who stayed up till 6am comforting me.
The one who constantly checks up on me to make sure I'm okay.
The one who told me she will beat him up if I want her to.
The one who sent me pages of long texts.
The one who replied immediately no matter the time of my texts, be it 12pm or 3am.
The one who took care of me while I was drunk.
The one who told me jokes to make me laugh (and I must add that I have a dark sense of humour).
And so many more who sent me quotes about being strong for myself.

You guys know who you are.
Thank you.

Looking back, despite everything, I'm incredibly blessed. :)

A lot of times we don’t want to give up a relationship because we don’t want people to tell us, “I told you so.” We don’t want ourselves to be proven wrong. We want to tell people they were wrong about us. That voice inside us keeps telling we this is bad news but we refuse to listen because we want to be right.

We stay in relationships because it’s comfortable, it’s easier than walking out of it and finding someone new. We are lazy to go through that process again. It’s tiring, especially if it doesn’t work out yet another time. But at the end of the day, are we doing justice to ourselves in this lifetime if we are not brave enough to chase after our own happiness just because of these petty reasons?

Enough is enough.

I don’t want to feel bad for myself anymore. I don’t want to hang on to something when I can already see a bad ending at the end of it. I want someone who is proud of me, someone who compliments me, someone who sends me cute texts because I like them, someone who is mushy to me just because. I want someone who doesn’t hide anything from me, someone who acts like I mean something to him - even if it’s not the world - but at least I know he cares. I just want to feel wanted.

For once, I want to think for myself.

And this time, I’m choosing happiness.

A few years back, I would countdown to my birthday with my friends and even start reminding everyone as far as a month before. There's something about my birthday this year that's different... I hardly reminded anyone at all and I spent my birthday eve (aka new year's day wtf) working on my resume, piecing together my portfolio and job hunting. I didn't even realise how near it was to my birthday until someone asked if I'm excited. It's almost as if I didn't care anymore - and I thought so too - until the clock struck 12.

No texts.

I waited a bit more.

Nothing.

I don't expect a birthday bash or any surprise at my doorstep anymore because these things never happen to me, but boy, I never expected no one to care either. By 2am, I received a total of five texts which I'm immensely grateful for.  What a stark contrast it was to 2011 or even just two years back. I guess it's true that when you grow up, you lose people huh? You realise that you're friends with some people only because you see them five times a week in school.

Then things that I don't use to care about suddenly mattered again. I suddenly remembered the people that I told myself were out of my life for good again. Old wounds opened up again. The ex-friend whom I thought was my closest friend in secondary school left me behind. The one who said he will be there to listen to my sorrows whenever I need him forgot about me. The people I trusted... Where are they?

And perhaps, the person who disappointed me most has to be the guy who once fought to whatsapp me and tweet me happy birthday first doesn't acknowledge my existence anymore. It's disheartening because he will never admit it but it's so glaringly obvious. I never spoke about this publicly nor have I confided in my friends yet but I can feel myself reaching my breaking point real soon. Maybe I'm exaggerating things but he always knew how important it was to me. I never understood his logic but I guess it shouldn't matter anymore because he doesn't care.

This was how I spent the first hour of 20th birthday in tears. I wanted to crawl into bed and hug myself till I feel better but I had work to complete. I even managed to force myself to finish penning this post, redesigning my blog banner, some sidebar icons and the photo above. Is this how growing up feels like? Being responsible even when you feel like shit.

If I were completely honest with myself, by the first ten minutes of my birthday, I already couldn't wait for it to be over. I bawl my eyes out every 2nd January; it has turned into a routine and routines don't just change. I've had lousy birthdays literally every year since 2009. By now I can officially say that I hate birthdays.

People spend so much of their lives trying to figure out what love is. All the books, songs and movies written about love... But nothing else compares to what you personally feel. I like to think of love as some sort of blanket, kind of like a blanket of security. That when you're in it, you feel warmth, comfort and in that moment, nothing else matters.

I like the idea of being in love but honestly, how many of us can maintain that feeling for long? Do you remember your first text confession and how you felt your heart in your throat upon feeling vibration from your phone? And how your world lights up for that little moment when you receive a call from the person you love? So exactly how much time do we have till love becomes an obligation instead of a feeling that makes you high?

I can't say I've seen many relationships that withstood the test of time and even less happily-ever-afters. What disturbs me the most is how love can fade away so gradually that you do not notice till it's too late. I experienced this once and the next time, I did everything I could to keep things going - put in the same amount of efforts I did when we were dating, wrote him monthly letters and little things like that. But it takes two hands to clap; eventually the cracks that I tried to hard to hide still began to show.

Therefore, is the other party at fault or my expectations of love? To be politically correct, I'd say there's no right or wrong when it comes to love. However, realistically speaking, something must have gone haywire for us to lose that intensity of our love, am I right? And mind you, this is no blame game I'm playing - I don't need that right now - I'm just desperate to figure this out.

How many of you spent the first few months of your relationship soaked in sugar coated words and sweet gestures only to have them taken away once you entered the serious stage of your relationship? That's what I'm afraid of. That all things good come to an end. How can you ensure that the person you're dating now will keep doing the things they did to get you in the first place? You simply can't.

I know I'd hate to love someone with every atom and molecule in my body only to find out that our relationship isn't going the way I envisioned when we first started. Yet at the same time, it's so draining for me to walk around with my defenses up all the time merely because I dare not allow myself to love fully. I hate that people change, things change, relationships change and I have no control over these changes.

If only there's a checklist for humans. That we can glance at someone and know what they're looking for, be it friends with benefits, a committed relationship or even just a companion. Or even know their characteristics so that we don't have to spend years getting to know them only to face a heartbreak in the end. Wouldn't that make our lives so much easier?

With almost a month since my last post, this might just be the longest break I've ever taken from blogging. I'll explain why in a bit but stick with me while I reminisce the good times.

It's been more than ten years since that day I stumbled upon blogger through a Yahoo search and started documenting my life. I've had ups and downs, although more ups than downs in the recent years. My readership has grown through the years and even shot up in 2015. It amazes me to no end how many people told me I inspired them. I'm just a small town girl you see in your everyday life - the thought of people being interested in me is still a relatively strange concept till today. I'm deeply humbled.

I still adore this space of mine dearly but that's precisely the reason I've stopped writing. Because people are interested, so I have to stop. I hate knowing that I'm no longer providing my readers with what they were here for from the start - my standard of English has dropped tremendously, so much that I have difficulties stringing sentences smoothly, and turning them into paragraphs of ramblings like I used to do. I feel incredibly stupid reading some of my recent posts - I know they are half-assed, written and posted just to keep this blog alive.

Do I want a blog where posts are quantity over quality? I don't think I can do that to something I so painstakingly built up over the years.

I knew for a long time that my English language has been deteriorating and I always told myself it's not my fault I'm too busy to do something about it but I realised it's all excuses. The problem with my generation is that we are all so addicted to our smartphones. If I have the time to refill my food on Neko Atsume (my newest addiction!!!), I can use the time to read a few pages from a book. It doesn't even have to be a novel. Just any book.

With that thought in mind, I picked up reading again, beginning with the few books I have at home that I bought when I was younger. Now I bring a book wherever I go, forcing myself to read even if I feel sleepy in the morning. Barely a week later, I can already feel my language improving. Before, I couldn't even write a short post of three paragraphs without taking a few days and words could no longer flow out as freely as they used to. But today, I finished writing this post in 30 minutes and I could just feel the words rushing out of my fingers as I typed furiously away.

Still, I don't want to commit to writing on here until I'm satisfied with my language skills again. I don't want to just churn out posts after posts that I don't feel passionate about. It's rubbish and I don't want my blog to turn into crap. It's okay if my language isn't stupendous and my vocabulary doesn't have to be remarkable either - I just need to to be proud of whatever content I put up here.

So this is a break I'll take for an indefinite amount of time. Who knows how long will it be till my English becomes as good as it was before. And hopefully, even better. I'm aware that by doing this I may lose readers, but at the end of the day, I think this is for the best in the long run. I will miss writing here but I keep reminding myself, quality over quantity.

I'll see you again by my 20th birthday. :-)

Meanwhile, you can still find me on instagram, twitter and dayre.

xxx