I am still torn between cheating on him, and being the faithful, patient, loving douche of a girlfriend I have always been.
He makes outrageous demands of me. Never be alone with a guy, never be in the passenger seat if a guy friend is driving, never accept a guy’s car ride, never stay out after 11pm. You get the picture. I am not sure I am ready to commit to his every whim that rises out of jealousy.
Not when I still see glimpses of that bushy fox tail.
Maybe I am reading too much into his behaviour, or maybe this is what they call the self-fulfilling prophecy, or everything is just a figment of my imagination — the latter being an excuse I gave myself some three months ago, but everything turned out to be uncannily as I ‘imagined’. I want to trust him now that he claims to be reformed, but there’s no way I can immediately forget all that has happened. Can people change?
One minute I want to hurt him like he hurt me, the next, I just want to go after something for self gratification, but most of the time, I know my guilt will get the better of me. I always end up telling him every little unnecessary detail. What if I am not the nice, thoughtful girl that friends and I make me out to be? What if I am intrinsically manipulative?
There was a year that I loved people. Everyone was a character in each day. Everyone had a role, a superficial appearance and a story behind the face. No one was average. And then, like how I lost my desire to be coherent and organized when it comes to expressing thoughts as words; I lost my passion for the individual. I never want to write about people again. I refuse refuse refuse to give in to the rose-tinted glasses of creative writing, and give each stranger the benefit of the doubt. Why should I be the only few who believes that people are intrinsically good? I am tired of being optimistic about people, myself included.
Maybe we are both too young to commit. Maybe we both need to go out there and wreak havoc on ourselves before we can learn or decide on what’s important to us.
Maybe maybe maybe maybe. Indecision drives me mad. But thank god I found the magic of honey for sleep, jojoba oil for hair, and vaseline for eyelashes — my life is 23% near perfection.
Post
Last night’s horoscope:
Your specialty is taking care of others, though more often than not, that comes at your own expense, without any hope of being reimbursed. Startling news from a family member or an old, dear friend, should finally convince you that it’s time to start taking care of one person, and one person only: Yourself. It may be a brand-new concept, but you need to get used to it quickly.
And then right before I fell asleep, I replied his texts. Assured him I wouldn’t kill myself or OD on prescriptive drugs from my little wonder stash. It was all very civilised, not as short as I’d hoped it to be — but I did it.
Karma will take care of everything else. I hope!
The EN
Here’s one of those things you can’t ever uncover in a conversation.
A year ago, I was reading Nabokov’s Mary, when I found the answers to why the ex boyfriend found it so convenient to trample all over me. I enabled it. If there is such a word, I am an enabler.
Up till yesterday, I was still trying to believe he loved me more. But then I believe, one day, I will find the answers in literature. That such man who holds on to both, exists. My exit should have been really quick because I’m really not into polygamy.
But then I am tied down by the noble noble task of helping him secure a future. And like I told you, I am an enabler. I would kill myself if someone’s failure can be attributed to me. So I am still here.
Mein Kampf
It’s fine if he won’t let me publicize my private life. I can still blog about my mysterious weight loss, and I can write about fictional characters.
I need to write because my creativity is stamped dry at work. How I view literature does not fit in at my office. I don’t agree why books can’t come off as decadent, or dystopian. I don’t agree why the protagonist must be justified in such a way that he was good throughout the course of the story, or even if not — in the end, the protagonist became good/better. Why are we teaching such superficial values to young children and helping them predetermine assessment markers.
That there is nothing between good and bad?
There’s this whole grey area that we ourselves represent, and yet choose to under-represent when we deliver values to children. All because we are in denial and we want to thrive for good, and shun bad. If you want to teach kids how to think, teach them to make independent assessments of what is right and what is wrong. If they can justify it, it means they can think. If they can think, they can’t go too wrong.
Well yes, Hitler was able to justify his ethnic cleansing. But Hitler was also one of those poor messed up kid who was forced to live on a soul diet of all good and no evil. The vitamin deficiency surely must have contributed to his clouded judgment. On a completely non-Nazi related note; Religion, instead of teaching repentance, and asking for god’s forgiveness, should probably also tutor the art of accepting our own mistakes. For, trust me, nothing eats away at one more than denial, ignorance, and trying to sweep problems under the carpet.
I am twenty-three years old this year. My favourite author is Oscar Wilde. Once upon a time ago, I wanted to be a veterinarian. For the past thirteen months, I’ve been battling conscientious ignorance and denial. One particular individual that I particularly care for is particularly stubborn. Admitting a mistake is the hardest thing for him to do, but because I am altruistic and I love him, and because I am selfish and I want to see how far I can bend him — I am administering him repetitive drills. To tell. To talk. To admit.
Pavlov may have been way too archaic, but he was right to some extent.
Meet you there someday
Remember how John Thornton was the last remaining rope that kept Buck from going wild? The minute that John Thornton whom Buck truly loved was dead, Buck fully embraced the call of the wild.
Now that I know he would sort out his own future without my help, and he’s going to college, the last chain broke.
And I’m letting go.
Foodpornweekly
After having pasta this morning, I stepped on the scales and I was down to 48kgs. One pasta carbonara for anyone who can solve this weight loss mystery. Is it caused by,
a. My occasional starve, then eat, then starve then eat diet.
b. The wonders of Atkin’s diet of which I no longer follow religiously.
c. New environment stress.
d. The impact of the epiphany that I attract douchebags.
If I stay off carbs for the next few days, I’d probably lose another pound before the end of the next week. So exciting!
He’s here!
I may be a really really simple person for this — but each time he reaches for my hand, nothing else really matters anymore. I feel safe, it feels right, I feel like I can go on like this for a few more years.
Confused
Today I was feeling really nauseous right before lunch time. While we were walking down the stairs, headed for Subway, he asked if I was having a fever and he placed a hand on my forehead to feel my temperature.
I nearly flinched.
At something so platonic.
This is how ingrained the concept of belonging has become. And I detest it. There are days I truly hate being in a relationship.
Break-first
On top of classes with the 9 to 11 year old kids that I’m really beginning to enjoy, especially when they put pen to paper — nay, 2B pencils to paper — and their usual eloquence just won’t translate into written words; On top of marking spelling and dictation and laughing over “sailor” spelt as “sabira”, “carefully” spelt as “carefurry”, and “quieter” spelt as “queyylietie”; On top of all the pleasant meetings we have every morning… I’m beginning to enjoy food again.
Of course, my capacity has shrunk. No more than two eggs and a cup of coffee for breakfast; one full hour to finish a standard lunch size; and something like half a thosai for dinner.
But the point is, a few weeks ago, nothing sweet, savoury, or bitter even, tasted appetizing. So when I had a coco loco donut from J Co last Sunday, and the sweet mass was dripping with every bite, there was a nice warm feeling growing in me — nothing can compare to the warmth of when the boyfriend force feed me carbs, but this is close enough.
I hate how everything now is so tied to him.
How far do you push?
Sometimes you can’t be quite sure if it’s gone or when is it coming back, but I think… I haven’t felt lonely in two days. This job can get so exhausting that each morning before class, it’s writing last night’s report; during lunch, it’s to prepare for my next two classes. After two back to back classes, it’s (usually) skipping dinner and preparing for my night class.
There’s very little time when the mind is idle.
And once I spend less time in the passenger seat looking at my phone, and more time behind the wheels looking at the traffic, that’s even less time with the phone. To get into the full swing of things, once I register for TOEFL, there’s really no time left for walking in circles.


