With every break up, you learn. Or at least, that has been my mantra for the past months — as if repeating those words would ease the pain. This is the first time I'm admitting to the break up online, and it may very well be the last.

A huge part of our relationship was offline because of the private person that he is, so if you're here for tittle-tattles, the exit is right that way. I'm not about to reveal anything that intrudes his privacy just because things ended between us. Call it narcissistic (I'm pretty sure owning a blog to talk solely about myself is already narcissistic behaviour anyway), but I want this to be about me, and my road to healing. 

***

I detest the timeline society slaps on me. Was I expected to be moping around all day? Can I not embrace life yet? There's a societal expectation that my previous relationship lasted X amount of years, so it should take me X amount of time to let go. Any longer, I've been hung up for too long. Any shorter, I mustn't have been serious.

If love is not 1+1=2 then why is letting go simplified to an equation?

Contrary to popular portrayals by Hollywood movies, us falling apart didn't happen overnight. Hardly any relationship comes to pieces with such great speed. We were prepared for it, and we have been for an extended period of time. At the end of the day, wariness breeds weariness. It's not something you can live with for long, and certainly not something you want to live with for the rest of your life. They say the eyes are windows to the soul; by the time I finally accepted our fate, my eyes already lost their sparks.

Recalling the nights I almost lost my sanity... Nobody can say we didn't try. We wanted, more than anyone and anything else, for things to work. But sometimes love isn't enough. It took me long enough to accept that when fate is a cruel game played by the most sadistic hands, love — no matter how deep or true — will never be enough. Two good people can be bad for each other, and there's nothing wrong with that. C'est la vie.

If you weren't there when the fatigue overtook my body, then who are you to impose a timeline on me? Picking myself up after the fall was laborious enough. I just want to be allowed to heal at my own pace, thank you very much.




曾经最美的风景 你微笑的侧脸
朋友笑我遮了眼 爱上就很疯癫
女人啊 总这样 傻傻爱 忘记了考验
找寻又找寻 像抓不住的烟

偶尔还是 梦到你 我该再收敛
虽然痛 把你藏 心里面

每次走过那间店 总习惯望里面
你碰倒我的咖啡 是相遇的瞬间
爱来了 爱走了 没排练 我牢记每天
要多少眼泪 才能写成一篇

其实常常 提起你 还是会想念
倔强的 我们都 难改变

放开的手 难再牵
没有什么 好亏欠
经历的 每件事 都会是恩典
忘记你的脸 要花好多年
But I know I will let you go somehow

我只想 大步走向前
让阳光 晒到发亮 烦恼放一边
放下你放过自己 夜里 不准有眼泪不准失眠
说好要过的鲜艳

我只想 大步走向前
很不舍 都要能够 笑着说再见
不再依靠谁的肩 终于长大了 终于我勇敢了
没有你一样很好 goodbye my love
再见 my love

My smile frozed when they mentioned your name. An awkward silence ensued.

They looked over, and they knew.

“How... How is he doing?” I fumbled with my words, knowing I no longer have the right to learn anything about you. I was reluctant to ask because I didn’t want to hear that you're doing better without me. But I hoped you’re doing good because I still care for you, even from afar.

Even if — when — I have long faded from your memory, I remember that loving man you used to be. Although the rhythm of my favourite soundtrack, you laughter, seem distant now, I have grown used to that charming smile I fell in love with.

Hanging out with your friends was like reopening a wound that's not yet fully healed.

Before I Go to Sleep — S. J. Watson

(Written 2017)

Do I mourn for our bittersweet memories for the sole purpose of finding something to feel sad about because I don't feel like I deserve happiness?

What an emotionally demanding and gruelling year it has been...

The notion of ever being "not good enough" tears me up in the most violent way possible yet breaks down my existence in a manner so gentle, so gradual nobody would have noticed.

The days leading to my term break saw me in a befuddled state, stifling, on the verge tears. I was constantly stressed out. I didn't reply my friends for days because I couldn't stand picking up my phone. Going online meant facing a deluge of work/school-related messages I wasn't prepared to answer.

My body showed signs of decrepitude and I went around looking gaunt daily. I grimaced at the thought of work. I was burnt out, my mind insolently blank.

"You're doing well. You need to stop being so hard on yourself"

Yet, instead of taking the pieces of advice to take a pause, I stubbornly took on even more jobs. I thought by keeping myself busy, I could numb the pain. Fighting fire with fire? Maybe.

The recent occurrences, the multitudinous challenges, forced me to believe that life just has an unhealthy obsession with ruining me. Tearing me down. Breaking me apart. It's been months of trying to put my life together. I'm contented but, as like poles repel each other, triumph still eludes me every time.

Beset with an avalanche of self-doubts, I catch myself neurotically wondering, too many times, when will I succeed — if ever.

Happy birthday to you, the one who got away.
Happy birthday to you, the man I never got to hold.

My mom told me, when I was a little girl, that you don't necessarily marry your soulmate. I never understood what she meant — until our paths crossed, and diverted.

I like to imagine that in an alternative reality, we would've met at a better timing and I would've let go of my fears before we missed our time.

Happy birthday to my soulmate.
Happy birthday to you, the goodbye I didn't say.

-

This year, I actually forgot — a definitive sign that I have let go of what wasn't meant to be. Besides the fact that I can now openly admit I felt something for you, of course.

I haven't changed, if you're wondering. If you realised that I still only reveal my feelings when it's a little too late, you'd be laughing at my idiocracy again.

Halfway into editing my Taiwan travelogue, I ended up in tears. I know it sounds psychotic but I already guessed this would happen, which was why I put off the travelogue for some time. Only a few colleagues, and none of my friends, were aware that I was quite depressed during my last few days in Taiwan. Perhaps I didn't want to give up my new found freedom to return to my heartache at home.

When you left me, a part of me died. That innocent part of me that believed love is unconditional and it conquers all? All gone. You took every last bit of my nativity with you when you chose her over me. I once thought, if you can't beat them, join them. But as you imagined, I sucked at your twisted games.

My life came to a halt. I found myself stumbling and tumbling through every day, unable to find pleasure in life even though I was supposedly doing things I love. I was desperate to forget you, forget what we had, forget how much I freaking loved you. I did everything I could, including replacing you with anyone who walked into my life. To forget you, I forgot how to love and respect myself.

Hong Kong should have been many firsts. My first time in Hong Kong and the first time I travelled with a guy, and a boyfriend. Hong Kong would have been the first country we travelled to together, marking the first of many times we could have travelled together. Thus, I thought travelling to Hong Kong without you would've been painful.

Surprisingly, I had fun in Hong Kong — more fun than I would have ever dared to conceive. Life, after you, turned out to be amazing. I have put down my pride, I have begged and now, I have moved on. Hong Kong healed my heart and allowed me to see that I am enough, what I did was enough. More than enough. Maybe that's why Hong Kong, together with Taiwan, will always hold a special place in my heart.

In Hong Kong, I learned I could live without you. I stopped giving you chances.
In Taiwan, I learned independence. I stopped relying on others for my happiness.
And that's why I never wanted to be back in Singapore, where I'm only reminded of my weakness.


-

I wrote the above in September 2016 but never published it, possibly because the paragraphs don't seem to flow smoothly no matter how hard I tried. I found the post while sorting out my drafts and, instead of mending it, decided to post it as it was since it accurately represented the confusion I felt back then. One year can do a lot to someone — last year in particular taught me a lot about love.

Around this time last year, I also wrote about why I didn't want a boyfriend yet. It's conflicting. I'm an independent person now, I've found myself, I'm happy on my own, I'm finally my own person. I talked about loving yourself before you can love others — I've done that, so I think I'm ready for a new relationship. But every time I meet someone new I connect well with, I suspect his intentions.

I know it sounds cliche, but it became easier to just build a wall around me. Whenever I get close to someone, I react by recoiling to my shell. I take one step forward, then leap two steps back. I'm stuck in that deep hole of fears created by my paranoia. Only because I know how love can demolish someone. I remember losing my appetite, my passion and my drive. I remember sobbing, I remember days when no one was there for me. I remember feeling afraid. So, so afraid. 

Once you fall in love with someone, once you've really loved that person, you're just no longer the same after that. You grow afraid of love because you know what love can do to someone. You're afraid to fall because falling means giving someone the opportunity to hurt you yet trusting that he won't. You're afraid to trust, because trust means you are vulnerable.

I tried so bloody hard to not think about you. How your smiles made me sick to the stomach, weak to the knees. How this cynical girl is still helplessly in love with you. I stopped believing in love but you came in, made me fall, then you left. I'm telling you right now, you were bloody selfish.

But I miss you. Damn hell, I do.

I miss your laughter, it made the world stop spinning.
I miss your smile, how I break into a smile when I see yours.
I miss the warmth of your embrace, how you made everything alright.
I miss your words, how my stomach knotted when I read them.
I miss the comfort you brought me, how you were my home to return to.  
I miss you, all of you, and the way you felt.



When I'm done erasing you from my memories, I will never feel again. I will never allow myself to feel again. I was the one who let you in to hurt me and I blame no one else for that, but I hate that I let you break down my walls. I've had enough, I don't want to fall in love again.

Not anymore.
Not after you.

The insufferable distance closed as he drew me in. He wrapped his arms around my waist and a familiar sense of longing enveloped me. Warm, safe, tender — what homes are made of. Damn, I thought, how did I get so lucky again. I found home. I never met a person worth staying for, then suddenly I had someone I wanted to return to. I sighed deeply. If this isn’t the epitome of trite and cliché…

Ravished by his sudden embrace, I revealed a beatific smile — a heartfelt one from deep within my heart — and in my chest, a psychedelic of fireworks threatened to burst anytime. The rush of adrenaline was repulsive in hindsight but in that moment, I was light-headed and saturated with euphoria. The bliss I radiated was palpable, unmistakable even to the blind.

But that’s what I was — blind. 

I mistook affability for affection, solicitude for endearment, benevolence for passion. His blithe disregard for my wretched self was blatantly obvious. Etched in his heart was a mission for utter destruction yet he remained ecstasy to my credulous self.

When the next ray of sunshine streamed through my window 1923 kilometres away, the happiness I grew used to dissipate. It didn’t just vanish. No, that’ll be just too mellow, too merciful. Instead, the euphoria that cloaked me gradually waned. Fleeting, ebbing happiness — the kind I’m destined to have all my life. It faded, ever so gently. Just like how he once was with me.  

The comforting voice that I sought solace in has lost its words. One moment I was high on love — that stupid morphine on steroids. The next, darkness swallowed me. Its raucous roar almost deafening, a relentless taunting. That sick, twisted, familiar ache in my stomach grappled what was left of me. The ever-growing, intense fear filled my lungs and crawled its way to my chest with an obstinate refusal to leave. The lump in my throat swelled; even swallowing was arduous.

He left nothing but lingering stains following his evanescence — an unyielding look of disdain in the mirror, and my friends’ assumption that my heartbreak will sink into oblivion eventually.

Memories are easily forgotten.
Photos inevitably fade.
Everything is impermanent.

Everything, but the triumvirate of fear, pain, and how I felt — insolently feel — towards him.

~

Inspired by the novel, The Girl On The Train.

They always say when you're not looking for someone, that person will come. Boy, did he. He came and swept me off my feet. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I was fine and happy on my own. But when I met him, I knew he was going to change the world as I knew it. It wasn't the first time I fell in love, it wasn't the deepest I've ever fallen, but it was everything intense and insane — everything love should have been.

I remember the bittersweet struggle, the bewildering array of feelings obviously creeping up onto me, the effortless denial. Then one day, a sudden, mind-blowing realisation. I remember the EXACT moment I knew.

I had no problem dealing with loneliness when I travelled solo. The gaps in between — the times I wished I had someone by my side — were filled with adventures I had, the things I would have never done if I weren't alone. I was roaming the streets of Japan when a bewildering thought crawled into my mind. I began yearning to go home, and the moment I wished he was there to witness Japan's magnificent sights with me, I knew.


When I thought of him — approximately 5233km away from Singapore — while snapping a photo of Mt Fuji's glory, I knew. When I found myself wanting to share my joy and sorrows with him, I knew. That feeling was... Amazing. Knowing that I could love again because I met someone who made me believe in love again was perplexing but phenomenal.

I'm extroverted; I click with people easily and I met guys I instantaneously get along well with. I went out with guys who were on the same frequency as me. I called someone else my soulmate — and once sincerely thought that — but when it boils down to it, none of them compares. They pale in comparison. Those guys were nowhere as eerily similar as we were to each other.

I read a lot of stories about people finding their soulmates and so many times it's about finding another them, who just happened to be the opposite gender. It feels like I found that. It's surprising, and very comforting, to know that someone so similar to me exists. It's mind blowing how the pure existence of this brilliantly constructed human being allowed me believe in love again.

When you went through years of torment, you get scared because you don't know what someone else wants from you. You keep running back to who you placed your blinded faith in because that's all you knew. Meeting him allowed me to bid goodbye to my past attachments. Everyone knows that travelling has always been my form of escape, but he made goodbyes hard. I never understood why I wanted to be home, until I realised I have fallen for this man, this man I barely knew.

I call him someone I barely know because it takes years for me to fall in love. I'm a slow lover, but he brought me on a roller coaster ride straightaway. I can't lie about loving every second of it, but I enjoyed the ride. Allowing yourself to fall for someone is like filling in an indemnity form — you're prepared to get hurt but you've already weighed the pros and cons, and understood that it's worth the risk.

Someone told me he knew I would do well wherever I go because I'm a determined person. In a way it applies to my love life as well — I've always gotten what I wanted. A rejection is harsh and rough, but it's about time. I can't go through adulthood sheltered, protected, and always getting what I ask for. I could blame him for not sending clear signals, or I could spend my entire year wondering if I said something wrong.

But that's not what love is.

I don't know if there's a non-cliche way to put this across, but it's goodbye — for now. In a perfect world, where everything is made of happily-ever-afters and fears don't exist, we would have been together in a second. Slapped with the reality of this world filled with maybes and what-ifs, I'm forced to admit that he's everything I wanted, but at too young a age.

Without revealing too much, we're simply at different stages in life and we want different things at this point. There's a lot on his mind and he's not ready right now. I guess in a year, I won't be either when I eventually pack up and leave to work overseas. I wish I could keep him somewhere and return five years later, when stability, maturity, ambiguity and distance are no longer issues. When I have travelled more, seen enough of the world; when I am done fighting for my career, and he has ironed things out.

But the reality is that time never freezes. We just have to keep going. I always believed that when you meet the right person, there's no right timing. When you're so afraid of losing your chance with that somebody, you will do everything in your power to fight for it. When you love someone and want to give that person happiness to the best of your abilities, you will throw everything aside because love is worth it. 

If he asks, I will put aside my dreams and stay, for him. I'm willing to throw aside something important to me because I don't want to spend a bulk of my life wondering about him. But he relishes his current situation, so there's that. I accept and understand that we have different priorities, and I'm happy he knows what he wants. Maybe I met that right guy, but I wasn't the right girl for him. That's fine, people are people and feelings are weird.

I hang on to the thread of hope that we just might meet again at a better time in the future when we're both ready to settle down. Or this might be goodbye forever. Either way, I'm so glad I met him. I'll NEVER regret any second of this. Once you meet someone like that — someone who's everything you ever asked for — you just can't settle for less anymore because he set the standards so high up.

I like him. Man, I do. This is the first night I admitted something like that, and to so many people. But this is going to be the last. Please never mention this again because it's unworthy of your time. I'm sorry I even said anything. I don't want to talk about it — ever again.

如果还能看出我有爱你的那面，

请剪掉那些情节让我看上去体面

When I kissed someone, I wondered how he tasted. When someone held my hands, I remembered his. I haven't gotten him out of my mind. I spent the last few months trying to put a title to this post. Today, I found the word for it. I call this the semicolon. It's not a comma, because I've done what I should do to bid farewell. It's not a full stop, because I want to believe that this is not the end. Not yet, at least. A semicolon.

You liked me. You liked how I rose above my struggles. You liked that I never let poverty come in the way of doing what I love. You liked my dreams. And I liked you. All of you. Even the parts that couldn't love. Your touch stained my skin, your existence my breath. I struggled to breathe — a rare occasion where I wanted to — for with every breath, I tripped on the familiarity of you. The exact same air of familiarity that choked me.

I can't let you in. It's dark inside. Trite as it sounds, I can't let my awful thoughts taint your beautiful soul. You don't understand. When I am the light, I am easy to love. I'm a good listening ear, I laugh heartily, I run around, I'm affable and gregarious, I eat a lot. When the switch turns off, I grapple with my issues. Suicide attempts. Eating disorders. BPD. But come what may, I took life in my stride. I always dealt with my issues my own way, and I survived 21 years somehow.

But I'm still a victim of my twisted mind, and I will die suffocated by my thoughts. I never intended to let anyone stay because I know I will die by my hands someday. I can't hurt those who love me. I don't talk anymore because I don't need anyone. The same way no one needs me in their lives. I am fine on my own.

Humans are the most adaptive spices? Bullshit. Have you met the demons that torment me? I tried to drown my demons with liquor, only to find that they have freaking learnt to swim. I joustled and I hustled yet with just a yank, they drew me over. I'm hell bound; it gets darker each time I blink. We're on the same sides, my demons and me.

It's woven in my soul — I am my demon now.

These words were written for you

FOREWORD: I haven't written a single poem since I completed my Creative Writing module in school, back in 2015. My previous feeble attempts were deemed unworthy of even the second draft so I gave up poetry. Until now. This collection of poem was written on 3 March 2017, influenced by Ed Sheeran's latest album, Divide.

TO YOU: My senses were heightened and I was instantaneously alert to my surroundings. You. The things that reminded me of you were translated into words, then pieced into poems. If you read them, and if you read between the lines, you'll recognise yourself; these words were written for you, my dear.

 

i fell back into
penning poems
chasing moonlight

i learnt your secret
one by one, then the second
maybe | | - another - | |

then all at once
i knew i was either
lucky or screwed

she was a flower
living on stolen time

you, a buzzing bee
tasked with pollination

you'd never settle
you could saunter in your garden forever

because she wasn't
flower of the flock


SAFE


fight or flight
we took flight

never said
but i wanted
you to  s + a y


HIROSHIMA


four thousand, seven hundred and
twenty one miles away
my favourite city

if i told you —
there is warmth in winter
if i told you —
i found home in your coat


TAIPEI


footprints over the world
nowhere i belonged

home —
a country, a place,
a feeling, a person,
sometimes   y o u

little was known but
you were my safety net
little did i know
you were not my home to return to


A THEORY


That's it.


DOUSED


pizza for breakfast
movie stills, summer nights
shared Lycurgus Cup
— the poison, an elixir

.ignition {
her in you arms
flames crackling incessantly
you were deaf to her
misplaced comfort }

no hearts and flowers  
but love, she had it all
//// suddenly she was drowning /

ASHES


sparks in your eyes
blind to your lies

we might set fire to the town
so you burnt me down

no vowels
stillness at zero hours

dawn to dusk
done and dusted

When I joined KKday, I was only 20 — hardly an adult yet my superiors trusted me to be one. To say that I enjoy my job would be an understatement, since I absolutely love my colleagues and the company is dear to me, especially when I was there when the Singapore office was only beginning. I never foresaw myself leaving KKday just after ten months, a terribly short amount of time by any means, but that's growing up and that's life as an adult — filled with surprises.

Ironically, the beginning of my journey with KKday came as a surprise to many as well. Who knew I'd join a company headquartered in Taiwan when I swore that I'm done with Chinese after secondary school? Guess you can never speak too soon.

Although a grind at first, I came to love Chinese language eventually, and I finally understood why Taiwanese feel so strongly about traditional Chinese. The beauty of traditional Chinese is something most Singaporeans can't comprehend since we don't grow up with the language. 沒有心的爱 is not comparable to 愛.

Putting in utmost efforts in an attempt to better communicate with my colleagues, I started following Taiwan dramas to improve my Chinese. My efforts were eventually recognised when people around me expressed that my Chinese improved tremendously. Even colleagues I haven't talked to in a few months conveyed their surprise at my quick acquisition of their slangs and Taiwanese (台语), their version of hokkien. Hey, that's what happens when you chat in Chinese on a daily basis.


What the TV shows I watch didn't prepare me for is the emotional roller coaster prior to resignation when you're on good terms with your superiors, get along well with your colleagues and love your job. Truth be told, I've had a few offers in between but each time, I told myself it's not the time yet. When it boils down to it, I'll never be ready to leave this company that's growing at rapid speed, a company I'm used to pitching about whether to potential clients or people around me.

There and then, it was a choice of a new opportunity VS a company I've grown attached to, colleagues I click with, a job I love. Not forgetting to weigh in the pros and cons, factoring in pay, benefits and whatnot. Eventually I made the painful decision and I tendered my first official resignation letter. It was less dramatic than I imagined — TV shows often portrayed overworked people rage quitting by slamming their printed resignation letter on their boss' table, but what happens when you're on good terms with your colleagues and genuinely want to help as much as possible before you leave?

After informing my colleagues of my decision, I merely printed my resignation and passed it to my direct superior. And that's that. That was my goodbye. I announced my decisions to some of my colleagues in Taiwan over a few drinks when I was there and soon, more colleagues came to know about my resignation.

lots of screams, hugs, laughter and drinks that night ❤✨ • 耶～ 人生中第一次尾牙 ✌🏻 #pekyjatwork #kkdaysg #kkday (尾牙 3/3)

A photo posted by yi tsing 怡靜 💜 (@pekyj) on Jan 17, 2017 at 4:26am PST

The annual company dinner was a bittersweet affair as I reunited with the colleagues I haven't seen in half a year, but we knew that could possibly be the last time we meet. I remember that night filled with hugs — the first hugs since our last meeting and some final hugs before I left. I remember the screams of excitements that we were seeing each other again, chit-chatting and catching up, laughter over the silliest things and lastly, tears.

after dinner party when i was already half gone and cried more than i drank • 尾牙後，再喝一場～～～ 那晚 Jim 意外的一番話害我在大家面前哭了 😭 最可惡的是兩天後一起吃早餐時，他居然還敢講ㄟ尾牙後的派對好像有人哭耶。傻眼⋯ 對啊，一直哭的人就是我啊 😳 大家抱著我，一直講些超感人的話，我能不哭嗎？我當然哭得眼淚都乾啦 ☹️ 哈哈哈哈 超白目欸 #pekyjatwork #kkdaysg #kkday (尾牙 2/3)

A photo posted by yi tsing 怡靜 💜 (@pekyj) on Jan 17, 2017 at 3:55am PST

During the after party when I was standing around waiting for more drinks and capturing photos for memories, my manager — someone I respect a lot both work-wise and personally — came up to me and told me he knew I was leaving. It took me by surprise; while I knew that he was definitely informed of my decision to leave, I never expected a farewell speech from him. Regrettably, I only remember 50% of his speech that left me in tears because we had a lot to drink by then but I know I'll always keep those words close to my heart.

colleagues that club together stay together (well, kind of) • 只記得那晚很high、喝了好多、玩得超風der。然後勒第二天打開皮夾⋯ 哇賽，帶來的台幣怎麼一半不見了？😂 但應該是最後一次跟同事這樣一起玩了吧，所以覺得還是蠻值得啦～～～ 唉 都這些好棒棒的同事害我捨不得離開啦 嗚嗚嗚 #pekyjatwork #kkdaysg #kkday (尾牙 1/3)

A photo posted by yi tsing 怡靜 💜 (@pekyj) on Jan 16, 2017 at 4:30am PST

More colleagues came up to me and offered me hugs and words of comfort, even some whom I haven't met in real life or spoken a word to. I took the time to get to know each colleague more personally, beyond a working level. I savoured that moment because I knew I'm gonna miss that night, and dammit, I do. I wish that night lasted much longer but looking back, I've already been incredibly blessed.

Dream course, done.
Dream internship, over.
Dream job, checked.

Thank god for all the opportunities given. 

To my colleagues, thank you for always taking care of me, treating me like your little sister, watching out for me and bringing me to places (I'd like to annoying remind everyone for the last time that I'm born in 1996 HAHA). Thank you for taking time off to have a few drinks with me no matter how tiring your day has been. Thank you for trusting this inexperienced girl with big dreams, and for making my first job a fun and fulfilling experience.

To my interns past and present, thank you for teaching me as much as I hoped I had taught you. It's been a pleasure knowing you through the interviews and months after.

To KKday, thank you for making it so hard to leave.


If you want to grow, you have to let go — I'm taking comfort in these words now because saying goodbye is painful, and I'm leaving behind so much of what I love.

For someone who never liked change and always chased stability,  this is a huge leap of faith. I don't know what the future brings, and it's a bleary path ahead but one thing's for sure, this is a stepping stone to the road much ahead. I'm back where everything started — this time, I returned a little more experienced and I believe that'll be the case several times over.

How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. Indeed.

If there's one word to describe the past two months I've been somewhat absent, it'd be turbulent. A massive amount of people entering and leaving my life, leaving me in a constant state of bewilderment. I pushed people away because I couldn't be sure of their motive for getting close. Even though it's tiring, I'd rather build walls is better than tasting betrayal from someone you actually cared about.

I hate that because I trusted the wrong people, my private life became a piece of gossip to people who aren't even my friends. How can I ever deal with this disappointment imprinted on me by someone I loved? I can't, which is why I'm nothing short of overjoyed that I'm leaving all negativity behind in approximately 24 hours.

2016 has been a year filled with travels for me. Gold Coast, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and many different parts of Malaysia. Each time I thought I was going to stay rooted for good, I received pieces of good news that set me off packing again. 2017 will be no different as I prepare for my first official solo travel to Taiwan and Japan. Couchsurfing, road trips, hostel hopping, and many more unplanned adventures — surprises that will hit me when I'm on the road.

I don't know what the future holds, but one thing's for sure: travelling will remain a constant in my life, more so when I have the cash to do so.


I'm lost and confused, but I'm excited.

Life comes crashing down — in waves, no less — when you least expect it. Consumed by this overwhelming misplaced sense of longing, I'm perpetually in a state of yearning; this continual ache that turns my stomach topsy-turvy and guides my heart to my throat. Restricted by circumstances yet craving for an answer from you. Something. Anything at all.

The most painful thing about dreams is that they have the power to destroy you. Your subconscious mind knows what hurts you the most and plays with that. All the what if and could have been that you've been wondering about — those are the things you dream of.

And you.

You were my what if.

Despite your presence through the gloomy times, your comforting words when I was caught in the darkness, I couldn't make up my mind. Time and again, I chose someone else over you. For a moment there, I was so sure of my decision; I was very damn sure that I made the right choice. But as they always said, you don't know what you have till it's gone forever.

In that dream, that span of an hour or so, nothing changed between us and our stupid misunderstanding, which I regrettably didn't try to resolve until it's too late, didn't happen. You told me you're going to be here for me, and you proved it with your actions. You held me and suddenly the world stopped spinning. For once, it felt like everything's really going to be okay and in that moment, I truly believed in your words.

The words you spoke in my dream, that is. This persistent feeling that wouldn't go away. I shouldn't have been so adamant, so stubborn. I should have listened and made amendments while I still could give it a shot.

They were wrong about not missing what you never had.

(Written May 2016)

(written 15 January 2016 — within 24 hours of our break up)

---

I know this won't be the last time I mourn over our relationship yet at the same time I'm aware that nothing will change. Talking to you again only opened up the wounds I thought I healed. My mom always said you have to be with someone for two years before you see their true colours. A little after our second anniversary, this happened. Ha, mothers know best, don't they?

Tonight I sit on my sofa again, hugging the bunny you surprised me with back when we were dating. Funny how you bought Fluffy for me so that I would throw away the bunny my ex gave me and now you joined my list of ex-boyfriends. I wanted this to work out. I wanted it to.

It's been months and I still can't bring myself to delete your texts, as if the longer I keep them, the more you'll miss me and maybe — just maybe — one day you'll pick up your phone to reply my messages again. As if that mortifying action would remove the saccharine imprint of you in my life. As if you haven't already left and erased me from your memory. It's a tragic, pitiful move so utterly pathetic, it's actually comical if it wasn't happening to me.

“It's time to move on.”

Just how many times have I chanted this to myself? Did I truly believed that by iterating this line, I can effortlessly shrug off the thought of you? That my recollection of you will fade as hours race by? That the notion of what could have been will stop creeping into my mind as the first light creaks through my windows at every crack of dawn?

Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl / Photo credit

I never thought much of us; you were simply someone I bumped into a lot when we were still in school. I guess things happen when you least expect them to. Now, I don't enjoy small talks but thousands of miles, two continents and two time zones away, we bonded over our crazy lives. We shared problems we faced, you knew most parts of my cataclysmic past and I knew the stories you kept close to your heart.


After three years, your continual careworn expressions finally made sense to me and our late nights proved to be cathartic for me. We laughed over the same things and both agreed our dark sense of humour guaranteed us a place in hell.

Our ubiquitous chemistry was undeniable, even among mutual friends who thought our friendship was completely bizarre. We were but a madcap match that happened to come together via an equally peculiar twist of fate.

I was petrified. Mortified. Terrified. I told you my fears. I didn't want the same thing to happen again. Once is enough to scar me and scare me away from love. I didn't want to fall again, not at that point at least. Especially not when both of us weren't ready, when the time ahead was, and still is, so unclear.

You had no control over your situation. You're going away whether you liked it or not and I wasn't not sure if I could deal with another two years of that cycle again. Wavering faith or selfishness — whatever you call it — I was hesitant about waiting two years for an uncertain future.

Yet there I was, contradicting myself. You were the first person I wanted to run to with my good news. You were the one I wanted to share my joy and sorrow with. I was so distracted by the glitz and glamour in my life at that period of time that I failed to notice the glaringly obvious.

I knew it's difficult to work it out so I chose to escape. Detaching myself emotionally, it became more of an obligation than eagerness to speak to you. Then again, what obligation?

We were never anything to begin with. Just friends who were headed towards the same direction. Two lines made to cross paths with each other for a fleeting moment before leaving behind a longing sense of what could have been.

My stomach churned and dropped. I felt every atom of my skin jumping at me, willing me to say something. My shaking lips parted but nothing came out. They suddenly felt foreign — like they didn't belong to me and I never had lips to begin with.

My throat felt too tight, the words I should have spoken couldn't find their way through; I knew if I forced it, my cheeks would have been stained with tears. My palms grew wet — a natural occurrence whenever I get nervous.

Paralysed by indecision, I was deaf to everything except my beating heart, a sound that misled me into thinking what I had was real when in fact you were the only person at that point who genuinely wanted to help.

I should have spoken up that night but their words clouded my judgement and the worst thing is knowing that I allowed them to do so. Willingly. I have no one else to blame. I let others get to me when they didn't know what we had. I let their words thwart my decision in telling you the truth. A colossal mistake.

I never thought of apologising until it's too late. Till this day, I'm still a coward and I dare not even say this to you personally. I let my pride get in the way. I'm sorry.

BFF: are you excited for your travel!!!
Me: nah, it's more of a work trip than anything else actually
BFF: huh but you sounded excited to travel??

Which led me to wonder why is it that I'm feeling a flurry of emotions this time instead of excitement. I've always been someone extremely excitable and an avid traveller. No matter the situation, I've always been elated to be given the opportunity to fly.

Can't believe that I'm the fool again
And I who thought you were my friend
How was I to know, you never told me

have you ever sat in your chair trying to focus on serious work when all you're doing internally is fighting back your tears that threaten to well up in your eyes anytime? you can't stop working because the moment you let your brain rest, the demons come back to haunt you. you are blinded by your fears, your heart longs to stop beating so that you'll stop feeling the burn, the pain is swallowing you alive.

ignorance is indeed bliss. i'd do anything if you can bring me back to the days when i didn't know better, when i thought we had something going on, when i was nothing but a silly idiot that you were making use of. who can i blame now other than myself? i should have known from the start, should have seen the warning signs and listened to the voice screaming inside my head.

there are countless places i visit that remind me of you and every time i walk past them, i choke back tears, willing myself to stop thinking about what could have been. it's time i learn that the world is selfish and everyone only cares for himself. i can't possibly always be the one doing so much for a friend when the person never reciprocates. it takes two hands to clap and now i see things clearly; i saw us as "we" but you saw it as "me" and "you" - two completely different entities.

you never wanted things to work out. you were only interested in taking from me, till i had nothing to give. then you squeeze me dry and leave me hanging. this was what you wanted from the start, wasn't it?

i knew i was stepping into a land mine yet i willingly did that. all because of what? friendship? love? ha, aren't we throwing these words about a little too loosely now? yeah, i saw you as a friend but you saw me as someone you can continuously make use of and take things from. you dare say you loved me? overstatement of the year, more likely.

all these anger, because i cared? what we shared - our companionship, whatever you call it - wasn't worth the anguish i go through daily. the torture i wake up to daily because i failed when i thought i could be there for you, the discomfort in my stomach whenever the thought of you creeps in. what for? you don't even care. why am i inflicting such pain on myself and most of all, why am i addicted to the pain?

silly girl.

go ahead, cry for the person who wouldn't think twice before stabbing you with a knife when you protected him with all your might. you'd think your tears might make him feel a little worse about himself but he's nothing but an egoistic beast, someone who doesn't feel anything.

unlike you.

cry, you silly emotional girl, cry.

-

it's been a difficult and trying week as i figure myself out and sort out my life. i try to bank on the fact that when you hit rock bottom, you can go nowhere but up. but i know i haven't hit rock bottom and it's only going to get WORSE these coming weeks. this month is a tough month but i try to remember the cliche saying of how tough times don't last, tough people do. yeah, i'm a fighter, i can do this.

please just let me get out of this alive because it's driving me damn near hysterical.

(written 11 July 2015)

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Meeting you was a wonderfully constructed miracle. I remember how my heart threatened to escape from my ribcage every time I bumped into you. How every notification from you gave me butterflies in my stomach, how your messages made me break into smiles uncontrollably.

Today, my heart still beats wildly but is it still because of love or from fear? I want it to be the former but it's slowly leaning towards the latter. The butterflies have transited to the sick feeling that causes my stomach to turn over, the smile that I hold now is from reading the messages you sent a long time ago.

Here you are, standing right in front of me, feeling a thousand miles away. Everything has changed. I'm trying my hardest to grasp on to what we had, saving every bit of our memory, holding us back, begging you to stay.

What's happening?