It's coming to two months. Is this dragging on a little too long? Why was I - why am I fighting so hard for this, anyway? What makes me think that this is special? There are so many other trees and fishes around, right?
+Aftermath
In the days and weeks that ensued, you were very quiet.
From replying to messages within a few minutes, you looked
at them slower, then went ‘offline’ for a while…before replying with reticence.
Then there was a time I sent some meme I thought you’d like,
but you didn’t reply. Not after a day. Or two. I knew that you were in a
relatively quiet work posting, so you weren’t exactly caught up with work.
Heck, even when you were in your busy shifts you’d find time to sneak in a
reply halfway – or after it ended, with an apology about how busy it was.
What changed?
I was honestly quite upset with the sudden silence, and how
you apparently ‘left’ without a word or explanation. I didn’t know if I had
done something wrong – had I come across too strongly? Too forthcoming? Didn’t our last outing go well – what was
with the surreptious glancing over? Playing each detail over in my head, looking at each thing from a different angle - did I say something wrong? Did I come across inappropriately? Re-reading our conversations, searching for clues, causes.
I sought out older friends for explanations – people that possibly knew you, older guys who could possibly understand your mind.
I reached out to K for help. I thought he'd have a better idea of what goes on in your mind, of what someone with a more mature viewpoint would think. He kindly lent a listening ear - at an izakaya, as he remarked with irony - and tried not to judge when I mentioned the length of time we've known each other. Give you some time, he said – though being ‘too close to exams’ shouldn’t really figure as an excuse for not getting into a relationship.
I pulled GS aside one day to talk during lunch. Another mature mind, hopefully able to decipher your impenetrable thoughts. Or at least to tell this lost person what to do. He listened, concerned, especially at the part where he realized your last relationship was near marriage. Give you some time, he said. You may never recover fully from the last blow, if at all.
+ About Time
I don't doubt it - giving time. Time usually sorts things out. In fact, you used to tell me - a girl like me shouldn't waste her time on a 'potentially psychotic 31-year-old'. I replied with varying lines, one of which was - I'd choose my own poison. I tried so hard to let you know that I was, indeed, aware that you were flawed and hurt and capable of great hurt - and we all are - but it's in choosing who to trust and try to share a bit of your life with. I tried to make you see that I was there with my eyes open, that I wasn't a silly girl living in a perfect world of rainbows who envisioned you as a perfect guy. Yet you said one day that you needed to protect me from you - I protested that I'd do it myself - and you said that I was unable to.
I remember telling you too, that someone like you was worth waiting for. I'm not sure now if you understood what I meant - perhaps you felt those were flowery words meant to ensnare the lonely. But those words don't come easy, and it takes a lot for an independent person to disregard her pride to say that she would like to depend on you. She's not supposed to show weakness, and she'd rather rely on someone she knows won't let her down - herself. Less uncertainties, less chances of getting hurt. But I saw something good here, and felt it was worth exploring. The potential for something beautiful outweighed the fear of getting hurt here.
The thing about giving time, is that it carries the subtle slowly smoldering hope, under all those ashes of time. The hope that things may eventually work out, after a few months.
And that hope is painful. Hope springs eternal, finds ways to re-read and re-interpret things that happen; it finds an optimistic take on things; it convinces oneself that everything will be worth it.
If nothing comes out of this, won't you feel that it's a waste of your time? You asked once.
I was preocccupied with making a point about something else, so in the rapidfire exchange or words, a few lines went by without me addressing your question.
You don't seem to want to answer that, you probed.
I reassured you then, but I'm not sure that you were sold. But it's true. I'd rather have loved and lost, than not have loved at all. But then again, I guess the answer wouldn't matter to you now.
I also asked G, the guy whom you very much identified with after his 3-yr-girlfriend had cold feet after accepting his proposal. You used to say that he needed a girl like me. I would get upset and ask you if you were pushing me away - you'd hurriedly say that no, actually all guys need someone like me. When I asked if you think that he would believe in love again - you'd mumble about how the person he meets during the post-breakup period would affect his outlook .
G agreed that it was cruel to just disappear without an explanation, especially after the connection we had - I pointed out hopefully that you were likely just trying to protect me by pushing me away, and that you were doing it for my good. Even then, he said, this was a little irresponsible.
We were both in favor of asking what happened - gentle, try not to be confrontational - that was the idea. However I found it hard to ask you things when you just didn't reply - and neither did I want to come across as the psychotic female chasing someone for a reply or overstaying her welcome. I feared that my actions would push you farther away; as much as I wanted to have an explanation.
A begged to differ, though. How would it change management? So what if you knew the answer?
I even asked J, late one day in Xin Wang, as we talked over mango shaved ice. It was slightly surreal - him advising me what to do through slightly choked complex emotions, even as he knew that I was the one who was slower to move on from our breakup so many years ago. Still, he gave me a Godly take on it, words of wisdom - I do appreciate such sincerity and goodwill and love for a friend, coming from him.
“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.
Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”
-Neil Gaiman
+ Thoughts from my 270 self
I know the safer thing to do with be to let go, lick my wounds, and get on with life, and not look back.
Don't get me wrong - it's not a Get-on-with-life or Stay-stagnant extreme. It's more about, killing the little hope within you. Because the higher one climbs, the farther one falls...it may be easier for all of us to just carry on without disturbing the status quo.
I remember, though, that you suspected I felt that you were a scaredy-cat. You said that if you were 25, you'd likely be more reckless - now it's bitten many times and thus shy. But one of the more recent days, when I postulated that some people would view safety and security higher than the chance at love (I was then talking wistfully about myself, by the way. I don't know if you realized it then) - you also mentioned that you'd never do prize security over a chance at love, and that was the reason why you agreed to go out with me in the first place.
+ A Christian perspective
You'd think that after so much talking, I'd at least know your religious beliefs. I'm ashamed to say that I don't. I had a niggling feeling in my stomach that day you drove me to work, as I spied the string of beads in your car. You're either Catholic or Buddhist, I thought to myself.
I know the theory in my head: I'm supposed to trust Him with things big and small - why should I worry when he takes care of the sparrows? and that He may say Yes, No, or Wait: and that I should wait on His little voice.
I admit that I was caught up in viewing love as an idol, that I neglected to listen to Him in plunging headlong into falling for you - and now, again, I find myself praying that He'll give us a chance, or that you would give us a chance. I remember praying about J, too - in fact, a whole year. I'm not too sure if it's wise to do now, though knowing him has been one of the biggest blessings in my life thus far.
This time. I'm praying for Him to guard my heart and my mind. I can't bring myself to utter the words to take away my liking for you, if it's not in His plan; not yet. I acknowledge that He knows me - and you - better than we know ourselves, and definitely better than we know each other; I go o to pray for Him to give us a chance, for you to give us a chance. That I'd be content that we had tried to make things work, to have loved and lost, than not have tried at all.
How about the elephant in the room - what if you don't share my faith? I do believe that He is capable of miracles, J and Y being a good example. I see how you try to be strong by yourself, and I feel the brave front you put out for the world as you try to fix your life and make it work. I know you'll need Him as much as I need Him.
+ Answers, somewhat
I walked to work one day, and saw the receding view of your back in the distance as you exited your department. My heart flew into my mouth - I wanted to ask you for answers but it was virtually impossible over text when you didn't reply (yes, perhaps I'm missing the point: no reply was the reply). I rushed into my department, head full of messed-up thoughts, grabbed my workwear and changed out of shorts, then tried to retrace your steps. I walked to the convenience store, Starbucks, the canteen. You were nowhere to be found. My mind was in a whirl and I searched desperately around - I wanted to bump into you so that I could ask you the questions in person.
I gave up and went back to work, then texted you after a long while: Pink shorts?
I noticed you read the message but didn't reply. After a painful eternity, what ensued was a thin sickly forced shadow of our once- enthusiastic exchanges. It was painful to observe.
I didn't text again after that.
Until one day during lunch hour, when I went up the escalator outside my department - only to run into you at the lift lobby. I tried to avert my eyes as you said hello a little too cheerfully, like the world continued to go around with nary a tear for my pain , and asked if I was on call. I said no, I wasn't, and mumbled that I was still on U-S. Then the lift door opened, and you said bye.
I walked off bravely to the ATM, where thoughts ran through my mind: I should have asked you there and then, but my thoughts weren't collected enough. I tried calling you, and you picked up. Asked if you had a minute to talk, or if you were gonna drive off. You said you had lessons, but you had a minute to talk. I didn't want to talk over the phone - so I said it's ok, run along. Then you disappeared.
You did text late at night, saying that you had a busy day, and asked what was up that I wanted to talk about.
I sent the long message over: the one that I had run by A and T and G and Ang. That expressed my disappointment and frustration at how you suddenly disappeared with nary an explanation, and that I'd appreciate one - ex came back? new girl?
You replied after a long pregnant pause, and said that you got reticent coz you felt that I was looking for something, and wanting something from you, whilst you didn't. And then you said, you didn't want us to be together, and that you wanted us to be friends. No, the ex didn't come back.
Well at least you were talking. I painfully replied that yes, I get where you were coming from. And that I understand what you mean. And that no, I don't feel that being friends with you would be any less worth my time and effort, and let's be friends.
I shared this with G and Ang, and they're thankful that at least I have some sort of closure. G feels that it's a clear answer, and that I should just let this die - it can't get clearer than that. He doesn't think there's another person, he said. I still had the 1001 questions: why? what happened?
But you won't give a truthful answer now, he pointed out. I'd just get the convenient answer. I think he's right.
+ Last? words
I can't help but wonder what changed, so fast. What made you decide otherwise that we weren't going to work, without even trying. Why you started pushing me away suddenly, when we were talking things out all the way. Why not talk it out, let me know how you feel? Or was this a way of pushing me away resolutely, while you sort yourself out?
That last viewpoint is the most dangerous, because it has the connotation and the hope that when you 'sort yourself out', we may be able to work something. It keeps hope alive, and hope is a dangerous thing.
I told G before, in the last few weeks when I was trying to deal with the palpable increase in distance between us - how I wanted so badly to ask you for an answer that I secretly imagined that if I were in an accident and met you in the treatment room, perhaps I'd have my chance then. Those thoughts have thankfully reduced, though I still find myself silently searching the roads for a car in the same make, or shape, or color. Sometimes certain people of the same height make me do a double-take, and my eyes are peeled, and I keep wondering if I'll meet you on the street.
I think part of the pain stems from the fact that our meetings were all initiated by you, with our infectious spontaneity, off-the-bat and late at night. Some book possibly said that this was a warning sign, that it meant that the guy didn't view the relationship as significant enough to make concrete plans in advance. Perhaps. At that time I felt that I liked your spontaneity, I still do. (I do wonder, though, if it was a sign of an underlying problem)
But when you withdrew, I was unable to find you in person to ask you what I wanted to. You found a reason not to meet. Perhaps I should have taken that as a sign.
Where to, from now?
I haven't contacted you again, not because I've moved on with some other person. That's also not to say that I'm not 'moving on'. I'm slowly living my life again, in the company of dear friends, getting my hobbies to distract me, and learning to be comfortable alone and not feeling that sorry for myself.
Visiting some places still remain painful for me: seeing the barrage again, walking around B-V at sunset, passing the soya milk stall, walking along Th-mson.
I don't like to quote from LWL, but I think she said it well: Life goes on, time lessens the hurt, but there will always be a dull ache.
I still pray that He will give us a chance - and that you will, but I'm not too sure how it will turn out.
I've started talking to my Ps and his wife about this - just skimming the surface - and they're supportive so far. Give it time, they say. I don't think they realize that the game has likely ended, and there's no extra time that would change much.
Then again, I'm not too sure if it would make any difference, all this wondering. Perhaps as I type this in an effort to move on with my life, you're already living it well, maybe with someone else, maybe with the ex. Maybe still alone, but secure in the decision that your mind has made - the decision to walk away from this, for whatever reason you have convinced yourself with.
I know Life goes on, too, but I just wanted to make a note. Thank you for the memories.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
do not depend on your own understanding.
6 Seek his will in all you do,
and he will show you which path to take.
-Proverbs 3:5-6
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