I guess I've subconsciously been putting off writing this: part of me fears that I won't be able to pen down all the nuances of how I feel about this on paper - and once I write and relegate thoughts on this topic to a diary, it'll all be forgotten.... At least if I put off writing, the (garbled, un-explored) thoughts are kept close to my heart...
It's been 4+ months since 7th? March, since that day you spontaneously decided to go to supper after your gym session. We went for bean curd and breakfast fare (also typical supper fare) at Selegie, and I didn't want to go home so you drove to MB - my first time there - and we watched clouds, counted stars, and gazed at our city skyline.
We never went out again after. I don't know why - or what you were thinking - despite what you said. Perhaps whatever reason you gave wasn't important - as we say, it wouldn't change the management - because the outcome was the same: it was a no, and nothing was gonna happen.
I've analyzed the events of that day - and everything that happened in those crazy 2 months - over and over in my head.
I really thought I was over it, but tears are rolling down my cheeks now. What am I sad about, anyway? We started as strangers, and our lives intertwined in a twist of fate - burned ever so brightly for that brief moment - before we were plunged back into darkness again, alone. Back to square one. Technically, we haven't lost anything. But I guess it was that brief glimpse of a dream, illuminated by that rapidly-burning flame, that makes (made? I hope) me grieve for what could have been.
The way you looked at me that night haunts me. Did you know that I was aware of your lingering gaze, as I dreamily surveyed the ocean in the night breeze? I was definitely enjoying the moment and lost in my thoughts; I was also cognizant of your gaze. What was that look? Was it a look of tenderness? Regret? Realization that it would not be, for whatever reason you came up with? What were you thinking?
I don't think i'll ever know, and neither will you tell me.
There are many things that I would've liked to share with you about the 4 months, (but I need to stop thinking this way and let go.)
I've temporarily stopped language classes and singing classes. I've changed my dance studio, put myself out of my comfort zone to try a more 'serious' learning environment.
I've thought about my career path a thousand times, and though I'm no more confident about my choices, I'm putting my foot out to take a step. I'm seeking the o-kay for registration to practice at 2 other countries, though I may not end up using them. I've somewhat explored grad school choices overseas - the gamut, from the old flirting with d3ntistry, to business, to administration; in both Europe, US, and Asia.
And one day at work I decided that the soonest I would leave my current post would be in half to a year's time.
I've made myself go out with other guys, to give others (and myself) another chance to fall in love again. (But I can't help comparing them to a time when thoughts would meet in synchrony and either person could guess effortlessly what the other was thinking.) To that, I've prayed daily - to sooth and take away that aching pain: it's much reduced, and i'm thankful for that. I've lost count of the times I've poured everything into praying for Him - and you - to give us a chance. I no longer pray those two lines so fervently now: perhaps it's called quiet realization and resignation. But if you're wondering, I still do mutter them, telling myself to keep them half-hearted, so I don't hope for too much.
I've looked on July half with trepidation and half with expectancy: perhaps deep inside, I hoped that you'd rekindle something after your exams were over: I had told myself that that was probably the obstacle between you and commitment. Bullshit, probably. If a guy wants something enough, he'd get it, no? Maybe it was just the amalgamation of circumstances: looming exams, (kinda) recent failure of a long-term relationship, probable component of a re-bound, the niggling fears that came with how fast we fell for each other. I probably won't know the true answer.
I wonder if you know the answer yourself - or whether you have ever acknowledged it, beyond the turbulent thoughts that we are both so prone to.
Do you remember the US course we ended up meeting at, almost 3 months after the last time we met? End May. I remember walking into the room late - and when I realized you were sitting there, my heart dropped to the floor. You looked quietly panicky, too. I guess all your years of training to deal with crises...had their limits (haha). After an initial awkward dance of avoidance and quietness around each other, we settled on a few tentative exchanges, in a group setting, over the food breaks. Towards the end of the one-day course there was a gloss of this-is-back-to-friendly-normal over it, and you offered to send me back. I remember you sharing (rather tentatively) that you 'didn't have' travel plans for the 2nd half of the year. Silly me had a quiet hope that somehow - if something worked out, we could travel together...I didn't mind quitting my training...or taking long leave. (Silly me.)
Did you know I went slightly ga-ga over this pretty girl in your department? I walked into you guys at the lift lobby, where I had the chance to observe a few seconds of her interacting (in an overly friendly vs flirtatious) with you. It went all the way to my work - I'd stiffen up when I saw her name on the request form, to my colleagues - my poor one-time IB mates were honed in on her after a HTH sharing session one day when I reached out to them, to trawling fb and inst@gram for hints that you guys were seeing each other. In fact, when I ended up at your department one day for an injury, the realization that she was smiling at her phone whilst working - and that you were on wh@tsapp at the very same time (thanks to the timestamp) - put me into more pain than my injury.
I still sometimes find myself searching the roads and straining to look inside small light-colored hatchbacks. I can't remember the exact color though. Champagne? It never mattered much to me anyway, I was usually excited by whoever was in it, heh. I find myself being a little overly eagle-eyed at the subway station near your house; or on the surrounding roads. It's less than during those painful few months, thankfully.
When I catch a glimpse of the star-filled night sky on the way home, I used to be racked with pain, thinking about how much you'd have liked it too. I would wonder if you were at home on your balcony, looking at the same stars at that very moment. I have less of such thoughts now, though I still trip and fall into the abyss of such thoughts occasionally.
Oh and I do wonder what what's up with the spotify list you created. I know you set it up just 2 days before sharing it with me - and added all the songs at the same time. But you've been listening to this music for some time. Did you create it just to share it with me? Perhaps it was just that you discovered the program a few days ago.
But I know you listen to songs on youtub3 too. Do you have playlists there? It's so easy to create another list on spotify. Why do you still add to the list with me as a follower? and the songs.......I remember searching for an english translation to the lyrics with a sinking heart each time you added a new song during those painful months. What was going through your head? If the songs spoke what you felt, you were confused, turbulent, regretful, but decided to let go, then had second thoughts..
Or maybe you just added the songs coz you liked how they sounded, or the lyrics. And it had no other purpose. Maybe you just treated the list as an avenue to share music with me, as you felt that I might have liked it. Perhaps you don't even realize - or maybe don't really care - that I'm still following the playlist - albeit being the only follower.
Perhaps you've told yourself that I've moved on.
It's time to sleep now. In my usual fashion these few months.....as I crawl into bed (at some unearthly hour), I pray with the last vestiges of my consciousness - try to give thanks for the blessings of the day, pour out my troubles that i'm having, and hardships I want to dedicate to Him. I also pray that He'll give us a chance - and that you'll give us a chance, if He wills.
But if this is to fade away to another memory, I hope that you'll remember it as fondly as I do. Don't ever, ever feel sorry for me, or think that you left me in a worse state. Don't be childish and think that you were protecting me from potential hurt, when you chose to leave. I chose to love, and i'm glad I did - and I will continue to choose to love. I learned about myself and about others, and about life and love. I hope I touched you in some way. I'm thankful I met you.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
The other one
There was this guy I made myself go out with, in the wake of That One.
First impressions-wise, he seemed slightly nerdy and socially awkward, but spoke well. He was 3-4 years older, and had studied and worked for a short while in the US. Overall he seemed to be quite a workaholic - talking quite a bit about work, but when I talked about hobbies he did seem to have some - though most seemed dated to a couple of years ago/ didn't seem recent. That said, though the first- meeting conversation was a tad stilted, I wasn't put off enough to decline meeting him another time.
The second meeting and subsequently -
He was more relaxed and talked more. While still keen to share about his work, conversation flowed a little more smoothly as he was open to trying new things and shared more about his views and likes.
I was pleasantly surprised when he did most of the planning and arranging - a welcome shift from having to chase people on group chats for availability to meet. Initiative is definitely something I'd like to see in a man, as he is after all supposed to be the leader in a relationship.
He was also eager to show met what he knew and interesting things around - something I thought I saw in myself too.
We met four times in total.
I don't think I ever really liked him - perhaps the raw-ness of The Previous One just made all these little differences between me and this guy seem exceedingly sharp. All I could think of was - sheesh, this guy is so far away in terms of compatibility...
The last time we met, it was for a quick dinner at TB before my cell group. this was a compromise - he initially wanted to watch some event fireworks but I wasn't able to make it, so a quick meal should suffice. So the meal went by rather quickly - and i felt slightly guilty that he had to travel to TB and I was a tad late and so on - so I suggested walking through the old TB estate that he had an interest in. He'd previously talked a lot about the different architectural styles of the residential buildings there - plus point for interesting hobbies - so I suggested that he showed it to me.
So when we walked to the blocks, he introduced the different architectural styles, and was dead set on the details of the interior of the houses....only problem being that he hadn't been inside one yet. While J used to live in one - and I've visited him umpteen times. When I innocently asked if that was indeed true - My questions got pushed away a wave of defensive protests and blind confidence.
It may seem like a small thing, but it realized that it irked me no end:
I have little respect for people who are not willing to listen to alternative viewpoints, and who are more concerned with proving themselves right - or feeling good about themselves - than learning more about the world around them, other people, and themselves.
And at that moment a little switch suddenly clicked in my mind: it wouldn't work out between us - not only because I didn't like him enough, but also because I didn't like the way focus was on proving themselves right. It seemed insecure and lacking in maturity, and not something I wanted to see in the leader of a household.
I think he knew too, as I started replying more quietly.
We didn't meet again.
First impressions-wise, he seemed slightly nerdy and socially awkward, but spoke well. He was 3-4 years older, and had studied and worked for a short while in the US. Overall he seemed to be quite a workaholic - talking quite a bit about work, but when I talked about hobbies he did seem to have some - though most seemed dated to a couple of years ago/ didn't seem recent. That said, though the first- meeting conversation was a tad stilted, I wasn't put off enough to decline meeting him another time.
The second meeting and subsequently -
He was more relaxed and talked more. While still keen to share about his work, conversation flowed a little more smoothly as he was open to trying new things and shared more about his views and likes.
I was pleasantly surprised when he did most of the planning and arranging - a welcome shift from having to chase people on group chats for availability to meet. Initiative is definitely something I'd like to see in a man, as he is after all supposed to be the leader in a relationship.
He was also eager to show met what he knew and interesting things around - something I thought I saw in myself too.
We met four times in total.
I don't think I ever really liked him - perhaps the raw-ness of The Previous One just made all these little differences between me and this guy seem exceedingly sharp. All I could think of was - sheesh, this guy is so far away in terms of compatibility...
The last time we met, it was for a quick dinner at TB before my cell group. this was a compromise - he initially wanted to watch some event fireworks but I wasn't able to make it, so a quick meal should suffice. So the meal went by rather quickly - and i felt slightly guilty that he had to travel to TB and I was a tad late and so on - so I suggested walking through the old TB estate that he had an interest in. He'd previously talked a lot about the different architectural styles of the residential buildings there - plus point for interesting hobbies - so I suggested that he showed it to me.
So when we walked to the blocks, he introduced the different architectural styles, and was dead set on the details of the interior of the houses....only problem being that he hadn't been inside one yet. While J used to live in one - and I've visited him umpteen times. When I innocently asked if that was indeed true - My questions got pushed away a wave of defensive protests and blind confidence.
It may seem like a small thing, but it realized that it irked me no end:
I have little respect for people who are not willing to listen to alternative viewpoints, and who are more concerned with proving themselves right - or feeling good about themselves - than learning more about the world around them, other people, and themselves.
And at that moment a little switch suddenly clicked in my mind: it wouldn't work out between us - not only because I didn't like him enough, but also because I didn't like the way focus was on proving themselves right. It seemed insecure and lacking in maturity, and not something I wanted to see in the leader of a household.
I think he knew too, as I started replying more quietly.
We didn't meet again.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Filing memories, 5
3.7. That was the first time I went to the barrage, and the last time I went out with you.
+ 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.
+ 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
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
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Filing memories, 4
Writing has proved itself to be
cathartic: as much as I fear the unearthing of emotions that it would bring, I
am surprised at how un-upset I am; way less than I thought I'd be.
Why? I don't think it's because I like
him any less..
It seems to be a combination of - the
sense of futility hitting home, a bit of embarrassment at the realization of
how effusive and heartfelt I had been - feminists and advocators of 'protecting your heart' would decry my
throwing caution to the wind and relative disregard for 'dignity'.
But love (or like, if you cringe at the use of the word so early), is about
taking risks for what you believe in, and for taking (wisely-considered)
chances. One may build walls around their heart so they never get hurt - but I
believe that if it means enough to you, one should take risks for it.
...
+ None the wiser
And so after the last movie/cocktails,
there was a perceptible decrease in the communication and frequency of talks. I
didn't quite understand it - I felt that it had gone well; why the sudden
pulling away?
During this time we had a couple of
discussions about where this way going, usually not quite that pointed, but
with certain mixed signals from him. I never quite figured out with certainty
what you were thinking: yes, this is despite being apparently able to read you
pretty well: you liked to ask my take on what was going on, then would
invariably agree (with approval, I’d like to think) with my interpretation of
it. So much so that during a time that when I commented in semi frustration
that I didn’t know what you were thinking, you replied in mock surprise –
‘well, I thought you had me all figured out’? Perhaps, perhaps. So did you –
you understood me very well.
You always claimed that I viewed you in
too good a light, that I was biased towards you – I’d protest and say that no
way, I was biased against you..I honestly had started to doubt your standard of
English at that time.
Then one day I pointed out that I was
biased against – because I second-read all the things you did to view them in a
more cynical light, in case I had been overly optimistic. You replied that I
was actually biased towards you, but m ‘270 self’ had been checking myself all
the way.
I was floored. At that point, I realized
that perhaps you read me better in some ways than I could read myself.
So, back to the mixed signals. As time passed, it felt as if you were trying to push me away. Sometimes there were lapses, and we're excitedly go on just like when it all started.
My humble take is that – perhaps you liked me, but were too wary. Wary that someone could fall so hard, so fast, logically. Perhaps I was blinded (as you pointed out often), seeing too many good things about you and too little flaws. Perhaps you weren’t ready to risk it with a virtual stranger, no matter how well we hit it off. Perhaps my forthrightness scared you.
My humble take is that – perhaps you liked me, but were too wary. Wary that someone could fall so hard, so fast, logically. Perhaps I was blinded (as you pointed out often), seeing too many good things about you and too little flaws. Perhaps you weren’t ready to risk it with a virtual stranger, no matter how well we hit it off. Perhaps my forthrightness scared you.
Or perhaps I’ve been reading this more
favorably than it actually was: perhaps you were just lonely, and sharing your
dreams and hopes for a family and companionship with another person who just
happened to seemingly understand you – but without hopes or aspirations for a
future with that person. Y’know, just like how sharing how I’d like to have a
car or a dog – doesn’t mean I’d like to own it with the person I’m talking to. Perhaps.
Do you remember asking me what I’d
describe myself as? I said I functioned on Hope, for lack of a better word. You
said you were a Dreamer. Ain’t that different, don’t you think?
+ Counting stars
So we lasted around 1.5 weeks of
semi-quietness before you texted near midnight one day, asking if I was free. I
said yes, and you muttered something about trying to decide whether to ask me out
for supper. I didn’t quite understand the trying-to-decide part.
After hemming and hawing for over an
hour – apparently after you were done with gym – you decided to go for supper.
Swung over and picked me up.
We ended up having beancurd at Rochor.
Humble fare (don’t get me wrong, I like it), lovely company. Chatted for a
while…while walking back to the car I mentioned that I didn’t wanna go back so
early and wanted to walk around the vicinity. You said there wasn’t much to
walk about around there – and so you drove to the Barrage instead.
I think I told you – I haven’t been to
barrage before. You mentioned that you’d give me a tour, then.
I was quite taken by the rights at the
top of the ramp: the sky in the distance was a dusty pink, and there was a
quiet serenity. A relentless gentle breeze lapped at my messy hair – here I was in an oversize tie-dye shirt and
shorts, gazing into the distance, pointing out inane things like the buildings
we saw, talking about the color of the sky….and enjoying every moment of it.
You said you were color-blind, ‘not very serious’ – I did not know if such a
thing was clinically possible – but was just happy to listen and talk and guess
what each shape looked like. You said MBS looked like an ironing board; I said
the flyer looked like a Dyson fan – silly stuff like these.
We moved to the other side of the ramp,
facing away from the mainland. You said Indonesia was on the horizon (I had no
idea). But I was willing to learn, glad to listen. We watched the clouds and
tried to count the stars. I wondered aloud about the halo surrounding the moon.
We did kiddy stuff like these, side by side, watching in silence, as the breeze
blew. The occasional night-cycline group passed far down below, in animated
silence. The companionable silence was comforting, like a thick blanket one
snuggles in – just taking in its fluffiness and warmth. Out of the corner of my
eye I spied you glancing over as I surveyed the horizon, a contented smile on
my lips and heart and brain drifting off into some comfortable wordless space.
After 2? More? Hours of counting stars
and looking at clouds, you said it was late and we should go. Okay, I said, my
voice belying reluctance, and followed behind you with heavy steps.
You drove me back. The last song that
was on the radio, as you drove down U.S. road and turned into my estate, was
Don’t Say You Love Me.
Don’t say you love me / You don’t even
know me
If you really want me / then give me some
time
Don’t go there baby / Not before I’m
ready
Don’t say your heart’s in a hurry / It’s
not like we’re gonna get married
Give me, give me, some time
I was singing along semi-cheerfully,
fully aware of the irony of that song – and that I was singing along to it.
I got off at my gate and waved. You
smiled reassuringly and wished me good night.
That was the last time I went out with
you.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Filing memories, 3
I'm sitting in a cafe one road from the joint where we first met to have pizza.
I admit, I did walk past the joint once or perhaps twice, half hoping to catch a glimpse of him - yet half hoping I wouldn't. What would I do if I saw him with some other girl? I turn the thoughts about in my head, envisioning myself walking in. Stand wordlessly in front of them? Sarcastic outburst? How would it serve me? How would that serve us? Would it make a difference?
Perhaps, so it would kill my hopes once and for all.
But as we ask in our job, how would that change management? Didn't he give me an answer already?
Still, my eyes wander out of the window, silently searching the roads for a silver car
.....
But when we have the right relationship with God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy. Jesus said, “…believe also in Me” (John 14:1), not, “Believe certain things about Me”. Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in– but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him.
- from Utmost from His Highest
...
+ Refreshing honesty: (but not sure if that's always the best policy)
We talked a lot. Messages and their replies would shoot back within seconds of reading them. Heck, even my girlfriends said we talked a lot (and this is coming from girls).
And I enjoyed talking. I think he did, too. He said it himself, insinuated it when he observed aloud that we were talking past midnight yet again...
What did we talk about? We shared opinions on things that were happening, a bit of clever exchanges here and there, a bit of teasing... but most of all, the impression that I got from our conversations was: This was a person who was more mature emotionally than most of the people I'd talk to, and was comfortable with sharing his viewpoints and discussing and bouncing off ideas; communication was easy and natural; who had seen a bit of the world, loved and lost, but yet was not jaded; who was on the same wavelength, had a very similar sense of humor; fun-loving, able to laugh at himself and the world around him, yet able to be serious and get down to work when it mattered.
Somehow, we understood without much effort what each other meant, and understood how each other felt and the reasons for our actions and our thoughts. I still think it's amazing to have hit it off with such ease in such a short time - even as I am aware of the deceptive feelings of familiarity that the initial rushes of love - or dare I say, infatuation - objectively, it was an excellent level of communication that we had.
Well so along the way I kinda hinted that I liked him - as I recall now how it started with the cheesy admission from me that 'I'm not keen to blame people from my insomnia' I can't help but cringe amidst the smile. We went on to discuss our feelings and our take on relationships rather openly. Of course not quite in the third-party sense - which would be kinda detached and weird - but with seemingly honest upfront admissions of our weaknesses, dreams, and goals.
Along the way he did mention-
he wasn't sure of himself, but he feels I was the right one,
he's 'definitely' over his ex (so they were close to marriage but that didn't work out around Sept-Oct the previous year)
that he's 'got exclusion criteria but there doesn't seem like any issue with you' - that was kinda unsolicited and dorky-cute
and sharing plans like -
he'd want to have a son and daughter and a cat to watch stars on the balcony together (and added in a dog after I said dogs were nicer)...though when asked about the wife he said there was no one so he didn't wanna speculate
that I was insecure and needed someone to 'lovingly squash my xtd-ness'
on finding out that I spent the day doing my laundry and ironing and dishes and cooking, he'd comment out aloud that he needed such a person in his life. (of course, thinking back, that could have been just an off-the-fly comment)
So I may have very well been over-thinking and reading too much into things. Perhaps some individuals share very personal goals such as these with people whom they know like them, but don't consider it anything more than like, casually talking about plans for the weekend.
He did mention that he didn't want me to wait for him, and that a nice girl like me deserved someone ___(insert positive adjective). Heck, he even went as far as to say that I was nice and wouldn't have a problem 'marrying someone rich and nice' and that he 'doesn't have any girl who likes him'. While I'm rolling my eyes and fuming away - well I did eventually give up protesting.
There are so many specifics and screenshots that I have, but it's still a little raw for me to go through them to read the specifics to summarize. Do I need to? And how would it, change management? '
It probably wouldn't change any outcome, but it's the same reason why I kept text messages on my ancient 2G Nokia phones - all these little exchanges carry the essence of the emotions and mood felt at that point in time, and just reading them could transport you back into the very spot and time when everything occurred, with all the rawness of the present .
So after that fateful day of movies, cocktails, and trip to TT, the exchanges got slightly lesser and lesser, with hints of reticence in it and reduction in replying.
We have many talks about it. A number of them would end in me being semi-upset - I don't remember the exact trigger anymore, except that it was almost as if he was trying to make me angry with particular triggers - and he'd end up cajoling me to figuratively to 'go to the supermarket'. It still makes me smile, because it was from an conversation that he found out that I liked aimlessly wandering happily around grocery aisles.
I did feel on multiple occasions that I had to defend my like for him, that it wasn't something bimbotic or poorly-thought-over or reckless. I debated it with my girlfriends, who asked hard-hitting questions like - Do you really like him so much? So fast?
I haven't met someone who's so much on the same wavelength that I can talk hours and hours with. Without trying. Besides my ex.
I wouldn't call it love coz it's like over a week.
Just that I think it's worth exploring, there's a huge like and lotsa sparks...
And for my ex we didn't even hit it off that well, It was after many years of learning how to communicate
Perhaps being too upfront about my feelings had caused some awkwardness, or it has evoked the dreaded 'overenthusiastic female' viewed with derision by guys...
Nonetheless, I am thankful for the opportunity to be upfront and candid with our feelings - now I know what good communicating feels like.
I admit, I did walk past the joint once or perhaps twice, half hoping to catch a glimpse of him - yet half hoping I wouldn't. What would I do if I saw him with some other girl? I turn the thoughts about in my head, envisioning myself walking in. Stand wordlessly in front of them? Sarcastic outburst? How would it serve me? How would that serve us? Would it make a difference?
Perhaps, so it would kill my hopes once and for all.
But as we ask in our job, how would that change management? Didn't he give me an answer already?
Still, my eyes wander out of the window, silently searching the roads for a silver car
.....
But when we have the right relationship with God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy. Jesus said, “…believe also in Me” (John 14:1), not, “Believe certain things about Me”. Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in– but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him.
- from Utmost from His Highest
...
+ Refreshing honesty: (but not sure if that's always the best policy)
We talked a lot. Messages and their replies would shoot back within seconds of reading them. Heck, even my girlfriends said we talked a lot (and this is coming from girls).
And I enjoyed talking. I think he did, too. He said it himself, insinuated it when he observed aloud that we were talking past midnight yet again...
What did we talk about? We shared opinions on things that were happening, a bit of clever exchanges here and there, a bit of teasing... but most of all, the impression that I got from our conversations was: This was a person who was more mature emotionally than most of the people I'd talk to, and was comfortable with sharing his viewpoints and discussing and bouncing off ideas; communication was easy and natural; who had seen a bit of the world, loved and lost, but yet was not jaded; who was on the same wavelength, had a very similar sense of humor; fun-loving, able to laugh at himself and the world around him, yet able to be serious and get down to work when it mattered.
Somehow, we understood without much effort what each other meant, and understood how each other felt and the reasons for our actions and our thoughts. I still think it's amazing to have hit it off with such ease in such a short time - even as I am aware of the deceptive feelings of familiarity that the initial rushes of love - or dare I say, infatuation - objectively, it was an excellent level of communication that we had.
Well so along the way I kinda hinted that I liked him - as I recall now how it started with the cheesy admission from me that 'I'm not keen to blame people from my insomnia' I can't help but cringe amidst the smile. We went on to discuss our feelings and our take on relationships rather openly. Of course not quite in the third-party sense - which would be kinda detached and weird - but with seemingly honest upfront admissions of our weaknesses, dreams, and goals.
Along the way he did mention-
he wasn't sure of himself, but he feels I was the right one,
he's 'definitely' over his ex (so they were close to marriage but that didn't work out around Sept-Oct the previous year)
that he's 'got exclusion criteria but there doesn't seem like any issue with you' - that was kinda unsolicited and dorky-cute
and sharing plans like -
he'd want to have a son and daughter and a cat to watch stars on the balcony together (and added in a dog after I said dogs were nicer)...though when asked about the wife he said there was no one so he didn't wanna speculate
that I was insecure and needed someone to 'lovingly squash my xtd-ness'
on finding out that I spent the day doing my laundry and ironing and dishes and cooking, he'd comment out aloud that he needed such a person in his life. (of course, thinking back, that could have been just an off-the-fly comment)
So I may have very well been over-thinking and reading too much into things. Perhaps some individuals share very personal goals such as these with people whom they know like them, but don't consider it anything more than like, casually talking about plans for the weekend.
He did mention that he didn't want me to wait for him, and that a nice girl like me deserved someone ___(insert positive adjective). Heck, he even went as far as to say that I was nice and wouldn't have a problem 'marrying someone rich and nice' and that he 'doesn't have any girl who likes him'. While I'm rolling my eyes and fuming away - well I did eventually give up protesting.
There are so many specifics and screenshots that I have, but it's still a little raw for me to go through them to read the specifics to summarize. Do I need to? And how would it, change management? '
It probably wouldn't change any outcome, but it's the same reason why I kept text messages on my ancient 2G Nokia phones - all these little exchanges carry the essence of the emotions and mood felt at that point in time, and just reading them could transport you back into the very spot and time when everything occurred, with all the rawness of the present .
So after that fateful day of movies, cocktails, and trip to TT, the exchanges got slightly lesser and lesser, with hints of reticence in it and reduction in replying.
We have many talks about it. A number of them would end in me being semi-upset - I don't remember the exact trigger anymore, except that it was almost as if he was trying to make me angry with particular triggers - and he'd end up cajoling me to figuratively to 'go to the supermarket'. It still makes me smile, because it was from an conversation that he found out that I liked aimlessly wandering happily around grocery aisles.
I did feel on multiple occasions that I had to defend my like for him, that it wasn't something bimbotic or poorly-thought-over or reckless. I debated it with my girlfriends, who asked hard-hitting questions like - Do you really like him so much? So fast?
I haven't met someone who's so much on the same wavelength that I can talk hours and hours with. Without trying. Besides my ex.
I wouldn't call it love coz it's like over a week.
Just that I think it's worth exploring, there's a huge like and lotsa sparks...
And for my ex we didn't even hit it off that well, It was after many years of learning how to communicate
Perhaps being too upfront about my feelings had caused some awkwardness, or it has evoked the dreaded 'overenthusiastic female' viewed with derision by guys...
Nonetheless, I am thankful for the opportunity to be upfront and candid with our feelings - now I know what good communicating feels like.
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