I am single. Wow, that wasn't so hard. Okay maybe it was, considering how I've been spending my last 24 hours thinking about how I am suppose to compose this entry. Well, for someone who has been trying really hard to avoid thinking and talking about her last disastrous relationship, or perhaps both of her fucked up past relationships, it is harder than you think. Yes I know that there are more to life than just romance and boy-girl relationships. I wouldn't deny that I was once a fool and thought of love as my heaven, as my retreat. In fact, what love used to have meant to me was just plaintively, the kind of romance that went on when two people fall in love. However, I now know that there are a whole lot of variations to the word 'love'.
I'll never forget that day in my GP class when I was still a juvenile J1, I was still attached then. What happened was that my GP teacher was going through a list of essay questions. One of the question was this.. "Write an essay about love." I remember my GP teacher ranting about how all the people who attempted this essay were narrow-minded, shallow people. She said that they were all writing about romance. They had forgotten the existence of love present in other parts of life, like in your family, to your friends, for your pets, for your hobby and etc. Love is an emotion, love is a feeling. You experience it everyday, in different forms, to different things, for different people. When I heard what she said, I felt enlightened. However I couldn't grasp it completely then because I was happily attached to a boy whom I love deeply. I never forgot about it though. It was deeply engraved into my mind.
My past 2 serious relationships have been.. bad. I do not know how else to describe it. Traumatic? Yeah, I guess that is another verb which can be used. I must admit that I'm a bitch. I say that because my first serious relationship, occurred because of a boy whom I've loved for so many years, to be precise.. since I was 6, and the boy whom I dated wasn't him... But but! I did fall in love with that other boy eventually. The way he loved me, and treated me, it moved me... To him, I was his princess. I know the question in your head right now. If he was so good to me, why did we end up breaking? Well, when the tides were low and the waves were slow, everything was jolly and well. However, when shit occurred and pressure came on, a storm was brought on and we couldn't hold. My parents objected our relationship, school was coming down hard on me, he started to change as he reacted to my parents' objection and I didn't feel like his princess anymore.. The stress level started climbing up higher and higher, till one day, I could take it no more and I could run from it no more, and so I sought for a survival route.
I'm not as heartless as I sound to be. The day when he called me, begging for my forgiveness for his change and his cold attitude during the last 2 months of our relationship, telling me to not give up on us and that he'll do his part in holding us together, he'll find a way to make amendments for not being there the past 2 months, he'll take full responsibility of our relationship from then on, he made promises that I'll never have to bear the burden of carrying our relationship alone again.. However like how I told him, it was too late. At that time, I did love him and although I put on a cold tone when I told him that things were over between us, once I hung up, I cried.. and I couldn't stop crying every night for the next few months. I knew that I had to do it, to be the mean person between the two of us, because seeing how he reacted to my parent's objection, seeing that change in his personality, seeing that streak of hurt in his eyes... It was like receiving a silent stab to my heart. Till today, his name is still a forbidden word in my household. It is worst than speaking vulgarities. So yes, go figure.
Now, as for my second relationship. This is even more heart-wrenching than the one before. Possibly because it is the most recent one, it concerns a boy whom I have ever loved the most, and also because.. this is the very boy whom I've loved since I was 6 and he touched my life in so many ways which can never be said. Well firstly I have a confession to make, umm.. I'm probably gonna be viewed as a slut once this gets out, but okay if you view upon me as a slut, you are a narrow-minded shallow inexperienced juvenile youngster who has no regards on the value of life. No, I'm not gonna take that back. Even if I sound ridiculous saying it because it really doesn't make much sense, albeit I've been reading that sentence for, say 15 times?
Anyway, all the boys whom I've ever been attracted to, will have something to do with this boy. In one way or another, I'd see reflections of him off them. Which is why I even got attracted to them in the first place. So yes, I know. I'm a slut. Nonetheless, like my first relationship, I fall in love with someone for who they are, what they are and how they are. Attraction is just.. the smell of a delicacy. You can only be sure that it is truly a delicacy, after you've taken a bite out of it and slowly savoured it in your mouth.
Now here comes the story which you've been anticipating for. I've known this boy since I was 5, we were in the same kindergarten, in the same class. Somehow, we ended up in the same primary school and in the same class, again. For 2 years, primary 1 and 2. Okay if you really really really wanna know our story (kaypo queen/king), go read
this,
this,
this and
this. Yes, we were in the same house, in the same primary 5 and 6 class. And yes, we were in the same class for 5 years altogether. I should add a point that I'm feeling rather unsteady now (emotionally), since digging up all those archives racked up quite a bit of emotions within me. I'm hoping that it'd pass soon. No worries though, I'm still gonna continue with my entry. Afterall, this is a challenge.
We met again when we were 16, at a primary 6 gathering. After loving him silently for so many years, he finally took note me that day. I'm sure that it had a little something to do with the truth-or-dare game that my ex-class had decided to play, and I was forced to admit that I had a thing for him, back in my primary school days. We started talking via msn, I'd sign in every day once I woke up and I wouldn't leave the computer until my mother threatened to confiscate the modem. Then came the text messaging, and yes like every other foolish couple who wouldn't stop texting for a single minute, the number of text messages I sent increased alarmingly, I burst my phone bills, my dad got mad and took away my phone for awhile. Next were the phone calls. I was still living with my grandparents back then, and seeing how my parents reacted to my previous relationship, I didn't want them to know about what was going on. We would pretend to be super hardworking and study till like 2AM every day, everyone in my family would have fallen asleep already, then I'd creep to get the cordless house phone and dial in his number. Omg the stupid things you'd do when you're in love. Thinking back about it, it all seems so cheesy. I look like a burglar doing all that.
We started going out on dates. I told my parents that I was going out to "
study" with a friend. Well, we did study! I always brought some work along, and we'd do it for umm.. half an hour to maybe an hour, then umm.. we spend the rest of the time watching movies, having meals together, walking around shopping malls aimlessly and yeah, other couple-y stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with studying. Heh. Guilty as charged.
So.. my parents found out eventually. And they didn't stop us. One reason was because I was suffering from depression before and when he came into my life. He was the one who got me out of it. I guess my parents were really thankful towards him, because I shunned everyone away then, yet he was the only one who managed to find/worm a way through all the high walls that I had constructed. Another reason was because my parents could see how much I couldn't live without him. They knew that if they were to also take him away by force, it'd do much more than just tear me apart like my previous relationship. We were together for close 2 years. He was my bestest friend. And even till today, though he has hurt me countless of times and place little — in fact almost nothing — to the value of our friendship, I still regard him as my bestest friend.
We were so close that it felt so amazing. I never thought that such a tight bond would be possible. However one important thing which I had missed out on was.. space. I thought that since we were already in different schools, there was enough space between us. What I hadn't understood then was that this 'space' wasn't physical nor relative space, it actually meant having time for ourselves. Doing what we want, having our own fun, making our own decisions, truly respecting each other. I didn't know what all that meant in the past. I couldn't see a reason for having all of that, having space. What I thought back then was that, since things were so great because we were so close, then why bother giving each other space? We should just eliminate all space and be even closer. I thought that this was what would bring our relationship to the next level. However, this was what caused our downfall.
Being that close meant having to give a lot of commitment, so much that even for a married couple, it was considered as insane. Things started spinning out of hand. We were unhappy about each other on certain things we did, yet we kept mum because we didn't want to argue. We hated arguments. The more we kept quiet and refused to voice our thoughts, the more grudge we piled up within ourselves. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, all that I've got left is a couple of his old t-shirts in my wardrobe.
Even though I've moved house, I haven't thrown those shirts away. And no, I didn't keep them away. I shifted them into my new closet, and there they sit.. in a drawer with the rest of my daily comfy home-wear shirts. He left his white jacket with me. I didn't pack that away either. It's hung up in my closet too, alongside my other jackets. Occasionally, when my air-con gets really cold, I'd pull out that jacket to wear. It felt like I was in his embrace again. Perhaps by now, you can tell.. That I'm still fervently in love with him. Everyday I miss him. Everyday I miss us. However, I refuse to let my longing for him get me down on my life.
I remember last year, during one of our last phone calls, I was upset, I was crying, I was whining, I was being a baby.. I liberated him for picking me up then throwing me back into the ditch. I told him that he should have simply left me there to just rot and die, and he told me this: "I didn't save you back then, just so that you could ruin your own life again." It was then that I knew that the right thing and the best thing that I can ever do, was to keep moving on. I spent/wasted almost a year, grieving. On the 1st day of this year (2011), which is also New Year's Day, I made a resolution. Just so you know, I've never made a resolution before. It was my first ever. My resolution was to make 2011, mad magnificient, mad brilliant, mad awesome.
And so.. Conclusion? I am single.
Explanation? I haven't found anyone who has that capability of waking up my dormant heart.
