Thinking of myself

How can I be only thinking of myself when I walk down the aisles of the supermarket and the biscuit and titbits store, often in a dilemma of whether to help replenish your snack, and which different variety or brands to buy if I do.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I make space on my desk for a Bible and when attending mass is taking up permanent residence in my weekend schedule.

How can I be only thinking of myself when, after thinking and planning, I suggested to resume our joint-savings to minimise undue money-related stress if we even want or plan to take the next step.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I take up employment and compromise on flexibility, so that the income stability would contribute more consistently to saving up for us.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I need to find out beforehand where my family is going to have breakfast and estimate if that might pose delays to your schedule, before deciding if we would join them.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I consider carefully if it might be indeed convenient for you to join in gatherings with my extended family, even before conveying the invitation to you.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I read reviews after reviews of the possible dining places for the people you also hold dear, just so it's almost as good as anyone could expect.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I always try to hold my negative words and not take the easy way out, even when I feel so very misunderstood and hopeless about us always and still arguing over those same things.

How can I be only thinking of myself when I implore you to be more honest and upfront with me so that we can minimise the guessing and assumptions that sometimes, go in such wrong directions which ruin any good moods we might have to start with.

How can you say, and think that I am only thinking of myself, after 4 years of me trying to make myself be known to you.

Sometimes, your defense for your disappointment and mood swings hurt more than an attack.

posted from Bloggeroid

one of those conversations...

me: You are getting more pampered eh.
em: Not pampered, just practical.
me: That (wanting to have a car) is not practical. If there is no car, can't we take taxi, bus. . . train? Or even walk? Why do you think God gave us two legs for?
em: One for the accelerator, one for the brake. Two.
me: . . .

posted from Bloggeroid

A missing skill

Last night, I cried for a very uncommon reason. I realised I have a serious missing skill in managing my emotions when I feel uncertain and thereby, insecure.

Emman is back home in Jakarta. Yes, 'home' being an ambiguous concept here. He said I always 'act up' and gets moody when he's back in Jakarta. Yes, 'always' being only 2 times, but which makes up about 67% (becos in '09, I think I did not act up.. But dun trust my memory). In effect, I always end up making his home vacation less enjoyable and more stressful.

I wonder why. I continue to wonder. No, it is certainly not that I want to sabotage his vacation. It is also not that I don't understand that he needs to go back to his parents. Of course, I understand that. I fully grasp how much it means to him and his parents, even though he seems to think I don't. I chose not to go along. Work is a reason, but much more cos I don't want to invade on the precious week that his parents have exclusively with him. So, of course I do understand the intentions behind his going back.

Then, why the unhappiness?

Is it because, though through no fault of his, it was so difficult to get connected with him? Or, that he couldn't really talk at free will to me, like he would when in Sg? Or, did I miss his presense so much that I got overwhelmed with my own expectations, which could not be met?

He's been on work trips without me too. Why, I wonder, have I not experienced the same unsettledness during those trips? Why do I only get moody and touchy when he goes back home?

Was it true that I do not know how to express missing him and hence, end up badly communicating and arguing with him? Was it really true that I felt he's different when he's home and that unsettles me?

Could the answer to all these lie in a deeper lack of confidence in myself? Or insecurity? Or, just a dislike for uncertainties?

Maybe, deep within, I am always insecure with the fact that he may decide to leave, for good.. To uphold his duties and fulfill his obligations as a son of his parents.

That is a silly notion. Even I think so now. But a silly fear is still a fear.

A mistrust. That could be something to work on. A distance. That ought to be something to be managed. A feeling of 'not good enough' for his parents. That might just put everything into perspective.

I cried because I was upset and disappointed with myself and my feeling of inferiority. Not because of him. It's always oneself who can hurt one the most.

At such times, I really think my boyfriend would do well to take a break from me. At such times, I don't like myself much too.

posted from Bloggeroid

slipping into the next

Emman and I clean forgot about yesterday, which was the 3rd anniversary of that fateful 'bus-stop' incident.

I actually remembered that weeks ahead, and even last week. I was still casually thinking of writing a love note to my boyfriend to mark yesterday. (I guess, he'll just have to read it from here. heh) Ironically, this week, it totally slipped my mind and I only got to surprise at forgetting it moments ago. Then, surprised Em with him forgetting it too. heh...

It's not easy, keeping track of so many dates. What's more, with our 'official' and 'unofficial' anniversary dates, that means more dates to remember.

Then again, perhaps not actually remembering it signifies a new passing. A passing into a phase of the relationship where well, milestones don't matter anymore cos moments matter more? I like it this way, and to think it this way.

This shouldn't come as a surprise in fact, when it's coming from a person who doesn't regard her own birthday very highly, and who really doesn't like to make a big deal out of special dates. After all, every day comes once in a lifetime, isn't it?

Nevertheless, I would agree that anniversary dates serve as a 'gathering point' to make that special effort to recall and recollect the other days that have gone before it. Perhaps, to see how far we've come. It may not necessarily call for a celebration, but it calls for a recount. A recount of one's blessings, maybe trials and tribulations (this term coming across so frequently in RCIA), and the reasons to be thankful for.

Last night, Emman said he's gotten used to my being different and unpredictable (viz.a.viz mainstream and predictable). He claimed that he knows better now, how to manage me, though he does not know me very well yet (I think it's something along the line of ignoring my moodiness, but not ignoring me. =P).

That's a good way of putting the past 3 years.

As for me, I still do not see eye to eye with him on plenty of things, which makes him 'weird' to me. But, I too, know better now how to manage his antics. Fundamentally, in order to preserve the lightness of my boyfriend's mood, the weather has to be good - preferably no more than 20 deg cel. He's a bit like wine, Emman.

The next phase will most likely come with a 30 year loan from HDB. Not a very rosy phase, financially. But I'm sure we'll make it up in the other departments.

Happy 3rd May 19th, Dardee!

chained musing

I walked past the seats... I guess it's better called the benches. The benches outside The Cathay. Ya, where they have those coloured, round lamps that are not so tall. Was it not there that we sat and you charmed me (ya, those days, you charmed me so easily... hehe) with your knowledge of the political history of Pakistan or was it Saudi Arabia or was it Egypt (see, I still can't get the geography right), after we watched "Ayat-Ayat Cinta"? After I unapologetically 'jilted' Weitong and used you as a scapegoat/excuse to not have him send me home?

Was it not that night that the bus-stop incident occured, and sort of changed our lives forever (tis is beginning to sound so cliche)?

Perhaps I had planned, in a way, for the incident (that's why we can't call it an 'accident'), by having you send me home. Then, suggesting quite innocently (was it not?) that we walked a bit more, instead of taking the bus.

haha... it's funny how it all happened, on retrospect. Funny how a guy starts popping Panadols and godknowswhat pills you had in your bag those days, when he's been told by the girl that he likes that she'd like him to be her part-time boyfriend. I mean, shouldn't the correct response be jumping for joy or a reverberating 'Yes, I do!'? Maybe you already knew it might be the start of more headaches and complications to come into your life.. that would explain the Panadols.

Hmm, 30 months later, that same girl continues to add the punch, headaches, excitement, confusion (just about once a month), complications, and most of all, love+care+laughter+amazement+charm+etc,etc in your life. That leaves no more space for your weird pills in your life.

Aren't you quite, so-very lucky?

(This post, just because I walked past those benches. Inspiration comes when loneliness steps in.)

New memories for the memory lane

Like I said, I was very close to tearing on a few occasions, and teared once, on the first 2 days of our eventful holiday in Shanghai (sans Beijing).

Perhaps it was the low energy level due to a sleepless flight. Or just a series of unfortunate events, missed plans and disappointments. It could also be the horrible prospect of having to live among an influx of mainland Chinese for one week. It could be anything.

But, I think mostly, it could be that I felt so relieved. In the midst of the above setbacks, I was so relieved I was not alone. I was so glad I had you with me. It's not life and death, but I felt that we were going through an obstacle course together. A mind and body challenge. A challenge on how much we can trust each other, support each other and simply, be there for each other.

In the end, and most importantly, I believe we, together, have rose above the obstacles and challenges and created so many new experiences, new moments and new understanding about each other in that one week.

I was honestly not surprised that you didn't show me the HFF this time. Not because I was unappreciative, but because right from the time you told me you wouldn't, I believed you. I had to trust that you wouldn't. And you didn't. You have no idea how proud I am of you, in spite of all the hiccups during our holiday. Because of that, I told myself that we have to enjoy ourselves that one week, no matter what else comes our way.

I'm so happy we did.

It's my 3-tens!

Last year, around this time, on this very blog, the only post for the month, I wrote that I was close to tears.

We have had a progress this year. I teared. 'Cos I was so touchy... I mean, touched.

I really, really do appreciate the thought, the effort and the resourcefulness that went into the b'day prezzie you prepared for me to mark my 3-tens. It's more meaningful than expensive holidays, boring-branded items or luxurious treats. It's something noone else in this whole crazy world can ever buy.

You made me feel so special and loved. I love the writing too, though it certainly sounded drafted and random. hehe I love that I am a present to you everyday. I love that you tried, just cos your girlfriend is a wordaholic (words stay in my mind longer than money spent on me), to write more than your name and date.

Last but not least, I loved the cosy, fart-as-you-wish, burp-as-you-like, electro-candle-light dinner on the floor, cross-legged. So much more unique!

Thank you, dardee... for loving me so. Nowadays, I can really remember easier that I'm being so loved, even when you are being a real mood-spoiler. I will remember it yet easier as soon as I see the suppl credit card.

Love,
your cutest sweetsweet...