do you?

oh all the time…

I avoid the places we know,

all the time,

because they scream your name,

and ask if I remember you.

I can’t lie to myself,

so I avoid them,

so that maybe,

just maybe,

I can get over you.

But,

actively avoiding those places,

makes the memory of you roar louder in my heart.

But hey,

tell me…

do you go through this too?

the outline of your face

I could have sworn I finally forgot what you looked like. I thought to myself, if I’ll never forget the pain you caused, I should at least forget how you look like.

I should forget how deep your dimple piercings were and how I used to love playing with them. I should forget how your eyes, though small, were the most beautiful pair I’ve had the privilege of gazing at. I should forget how you had the most lushest lips I had pressed against my lips.

I should at least forget the details on your face, so that I may at least be able to miss you in a crowd and not be reminded of what I lost.

After so long I believed that I did it; I finally forgot what he was like.

But today I found out I was wrong.

Out of the blue, I had a detailed image of you in my head. So detailed, that as I scanned across the mental image, It ticked off all the points of details I remembered. No idea what triggered this, but whatever. It’s done.

What made it worse was, it was a moving picture. Watching you move, made it more painful. As I watched you move, I felt my heart burn like corrosive acid on skin.

I felt alive with emotion yet dead with no hope.

So with this, I’ll try to forget you again from today.

hurts like heaven

I’m in a period of relapse, or rather what you call burn out, regression.

I’m at a point where I know I am exhausted; I’m tired of all the routines of study and work. I’m beat and my demons are taking over me.

I know it is temporary but right now they’re really getting into my system. I feel it getting stronger by the minute.

With the exhaustion of the thought of my existence and the unknown of what’s to come, the monsters I hid under the rug start to peep out. My past creeping back.

They come out when I face the mirrors, they talk to me when I see my photographs. They seep into my brain tissue when I see anything that could possibly remind me of you. They hold me dearly, as if comforting me, whenever I get lost in emotional moody songs- “It’s alright to be like this.”.

They’re not wrong. It is okay to be like that.

But I wonder when, if I do, when will I break free from their deceivingly comforting grasp. Everytime I do, they remind me that you, like heaven, hurts yet feels so good.

So now tell me…

How do I unmiss you?

so I had a painful first love…

How do you appreciate your first love?

I had a first love, just like most. I’d call it a great love, not because it beats romanticized novels but it’s great in the way that it transformed me for the better. I can confidently say that I wouldn’t be in such a great place now without having been with him.

I wouldn’t call it a toxic relationship because he was a genuinely good person, who was just at the crossroads, lost and confused. What boiled down in our relationship was the clash of different phases in life, the indecisiveness on his part and the perpetually exhausting distrust I had towards him.

I won’t go into the details of the relationship too much but I’ll tell you how I transformed after we parted ways.

He taught me things like living a more frugal life and he broke down many misconceptions I had about people like him. He was gangster-like, “ah-beng” as what my friends called him. I used to be afraid to be associated with people like him until I took a sneak peek and realized they’re more than capable of having substance.

He taught me how to be more open to the unknown and be more independent. Very much like my father, he was a scholar who had to work after school almost daily to make ends meet. Dad always told me stories but I never really appreciated it until I saw it for myself. It was with him that I had my first meal alone outside too. I mean he didn’t leave me to eat by myself. But rather, I was waiting for him to end work so I studied while eating alone. It made me feel the reality of the need of being independent and alone from time to time.

After we broke up, I plunged into depression because no one left before. It took me about 3 months until I started to seek help from the people around me. With that, with my family and friends holding my hands, I forced myself out of the shadows and started to work on myself.

I had a gym membership and decided to shake off the weight from A-level stresses. I channeled the pain into a furious passion to shape myself the way I wanted and be a beautiful me that I could be proud of. I also started taking tea, which I really hated to drink before. I started eating healthy, more salads, less sweets. I lost 8kg in that month.

He, together with my friends, always complained about how I didn’t act like girls do, wearing makeup and dressing up to go out or impress the boys. So I started to learn and I was getting really good at it and my friends started to commend me. But with that, I also started to take care of my skin, progressively having long skin care routines that made my skin glow.

When school started, I was reminded of my goals to a medical practitioner. I was so furious that I neglected that dream just because I was trying to keep a self-destructive relationship going. So from then, I juggled studying extra subjects as I pursued my degree.

Acknowledging that I was slowly improving as a person, I realized that I had to let go of people who were not morphing me into the person I desire to be. Aristotle said we have 3 types of friends- Virtue, utility and pleasure (see:Aristotle: 3 types of friendships). Knowing I had little time to spare for friends, I made sure that the ones I held onto were worth it. I chose the friends that let me be transparent, at ease and loved. I chose friends that helped me realize my mistakes and push me to be better everyday.

All of these, I admit, were motivated by the pain of the thought of him. But I kept doing them until they became habits that made me a happy person. The more I did, the more I forgot these started off because of the thought of him.

It was then I realized that I have gotten over him. Maybe not 100%, but 90%. I still do think of him occasionally, even after 2 years. But there are no more urges to check on him, call him and be a part of his life. This doesn’t mean “good riddance”. I’m just happy for myself, for trusting time and those around me that I can grow and be happy.

If I don’t love myself, who will? 

This love was a sad one but it opened my eyes to a bigger world that would have never been realized had I not loved so hard like that.

I look onward to the future, open and hopeful 🙂