Vomitting in Vietnam...
nnniiicceeeee

Tomorrow I head to Laos.
No hotels, no plans. Somehow, with faith, I shall travel with a friend to Hanoi, Vietnam before heading back again.
We plan on somehow hitting Luang Prabang and Halong Bay as well. Rest assured I shall find a way to keep you informed about my trip.

I am off to bail my heart out of hope that has entered when he emailed me today.

I am off to find myself with the help of a good book and the Mekong River.

I am off!

It has come to that point in our lives again. A new year looms near. New promises, new vows made to somehow help us deny our past sins. To give us hope of new futures, new choices, new fates.

Ah well, even if its superficial, one can always remind oneself of things that should or should not happen next year.

I want to want less. Not wear my heart on my sleeve. Not think about friends getting married. Not think about the fact that Ive been alone for far too long. I want to let things be, and make things be less. I want to not want a man to fall in love with me everytime we smile. To be able to emotionally distance myself in the company of lust. Not love

So in line with that. I want to love me more. Love my job more. Put more effort into developing my career. Into making sure I can take care of me and my family. I guess I'll have to say fuck it to all the men who cannot deal with the fact that I am educated, financially stable, employed and independent. If its meant to happen, it will. Otherwise, I would have a pretty damn good career lined up for me.

Travel more. Wonderlust.
I want to learn more, see more, understand more. I want to spend my time in other countries, watching people, living the life. Appreciating the differences amongst us. A friend of mine once wrote of her idea of being a Romantic. I cannot agree more with her. I am a romantic. I want to travel the dusty sands of the Sahara. Travel the original Silk Road. I want to head to sea and return months later, wizened and in touch with the winds and the stars.

Be less responsible of others
I am tired of being the stable fort of others. Tired of being the only one there. I am human. I am incapable of perfection and perfectly capable of mistakes. I cannot hold yours, I cannot be responsible for yours. I do not want it. I want you, all of you... to take responsibility for your choices or lack of choices. I cannot be your rock. Anymore.
I am growing, and being stable for you stagnates my own growth.

Live
I want to live. Aimlessly. Perfectly.
Cease caring. Responsibility. I want to make choices based on gut not rationality. I want to jump on planes to countries to jump off into the blue sky.
I want to laugh and smile and be joyful. I want every breathe of my time on earth to count. To bring as much happiness as it could ever.

I will live

"One of the reasons why we crave love, and seek it so desperately, is that love is the only cure for loneliness, and shame, and sorrow. But some feelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you find them again. Some truths about yourself are so painful that only shame can help you live with them. And some things are just so sad that only your soul can do the crying for you."
(Shantaram)

We dance the night away. I flirt with everyone to cover my tracks. To make sure nobody knows. And so we danced around everyday people. Once in a while our eyes locking together. Furtive glances as we pass each other. Fighting the urge to pull him down and kiss him. Little winks he gives me at the end of the day.

Everyone leaves. A little less upright, a lot more happier. I run into the bathroom to escape the group of people walking by.

He calls me
"Where are you?"

I let myself into his room. Using the key they had given me downstairs. I walk in and he looks at me. We kiss by his bed's edge, grabbing each other for all the seconds we could not before.

He is kind and gentle and amused. I am babbling incoherently. Unaware of what I was saying to him.

We sleep. He hugs me close and doesnt let go. For the first time since I have been with him we sleep without care. His snores no longer wakes me. I do not get up all night walking to the bathroom.

We wake up as his phone rings. I open my eyes to see him quickly getting ready.

He packs. I watch.

Done.

It is over, me and him. Nothing else to fight for. As much as I want him, he doesnt have it in him to fight for me.

He kisses me, a million kisses, and tells me he will find me the next time he is in town. I hug him from behind as he puts on his shoes. Smell him, and my sweat on him.

I miss him already. My taboo.

He kisses me again. Fina goodbyes, no tears, no misery.

My Taboo leaves me. Empty hearted yet again. Curled up in his bed smelled of us.

I wake up later. And he is gone. I pick up the things he had left behind. His namecard. His work documents. I pick up any reminders that he was ever there. Any evidence that I was.

Bye bye baby. I miss us dancing around everyday people. Knowing that they dont know what we have between us.

Apparently 'tis the season to be married. Or perhaps Ive just reached that age where everyone surrounding me has decided to settle down.

Just came back from the wedding in that country down under. Paul Smith's best friend got married to her Luke Skywalker. Im serious, they had Luke and Princess Leia on their wedding cake. If thats not love, then I dont know what it is. She showed me her engagement ring. It was like a solar system landed on her finger and erupted in one big dazzling ball of DIAMOND. ~1.4-1.5 is my guess. That brilliant.

So I travelled the five hours journey to see them wed, because to be honest, she was wonderful to me throughout my fiasco with Paul. Whilst Paul treated me like crap in London, she was the one who took me out, pulled me aside, gossiped with me about Paul's ex-girlfriends. You see, Paul's housemate was the groom that night. So, after our sojourn together in London, how could I not be at the wedding? especially also considering I had been tactfully cut out of all our London pictures which were shown at the wedding reception (I think Paul was a little ashamed of the fact that I was there with him or something)

Leia as I shall call her (I think its quite appropriate) also took good care of me when I traveled down to her country earlier this year. Even though I helped nudge Paul out of his old job and into his new one, he barely had time to meet up, and it was Leia who brought me out, who took me for lunches whilst gossiping with me and letting me know that she didnt like the new girlfriend, that I was the only decent girl Paul had ever dated.

Seriously, how could I not go for her wedding?

The point of the story is not about me, or me and Paul. The point is that these two people that I had known beforehand decided to promise their lives to each other, and I was fortunate enough to be there when they did it. Privileged to be offered this little glimpse.

Tomorrow I have been invited to become one of the 'sisters' at my colleagues wedding. I have gotten close to the bride over the year and when it came to choosing sides, I decided it would have been more fun to be taunting the groom then helping him. Also, as a true judge of great character, they have decided to put moi in charge of the afterparty. =)

To my ol' capitane. A giant congrats on what apparently had been a one year engagement. Man I always feel like Im the last one to know this stuff

And I ended up sitting next to two couples who were about to wed next year. One of which thought I was 26 because of my job title (now I dont know whether to be offended or proud)

People are starting to settle down. Some so lucky that they have met the loves of their lives so early on.

As for me, my salacious taboo would have been the best choice. Parts of me love him. But I know, that huge parts of me, love the idea of loving him more. He makes me laugh more than anything else. Reminds me to take life less seriously. I do not expect to be loved by him at all. But just the same, its nice to care like this again.

He is leaving me for good come Sunday. Men whom I could spend the rest of my lives with seem to have a tendency to do that. Just pick up and leave. But there is nothing at all left that I could do.


If he wants me, he would fight for me. But I know that this is not what we both want.

Tomorrow though, I would settle for a big hug, endless well of kisses and the lie of love that I sleep next to.

Though I am looking for what the groom's brother mentioned at the wedding

"He told me 'I think Ive found the woman I want to grow old with.. the woman I want to wake up every morning next too...' "

First year of college

I laid next to Paul Smith curled up asleep in his bed. It was raining, I knew this because in the middle of the night I woke up and he was nearby. He whispered softly "Its pouring outside. Isnt it beautiful" In my half awoken slumber I couldnt truly appreciate it, though I appreciated his soft breathe in my ears. His side of the bed was heavier, and as I turned, I rolled closer. I was aching to touch him. Dying to have him kiss me into oblivion.

I started falling asleep again. And I tasted an instance. The briefest of instances where he grazed his lips over mine while I slept.

It ended there. Went no further. I could never listen to that song again. The one he loved. The one that was playing that night.

A year or two before we got sloppily drunk and slept together entangled in sheets and clothes while our glasses or red wine draped lazily on the dresser. Our body a tangled mess. My arms numb from being slept on.

We laughed. But I still couldnt listen to that song.

Another year goes by, and I cross the sea to see him on a weekend. I give up my vacation to be with him. I stay indoors to talk to him online.

I lose my mind ensnared to be his marionette. I dance to his tune, move when he wished.

He didnt realize that he was in that much control of me. And I still couldnt listen to that song.

Time went by. And I grew up. I fell in love. The real insatiable deliriously happy love this time. The kind that never hurts you on purpose. The kind that makes you feel better about being you.
I could listen to that song. But I didnt.

Finally after all these years, I travel down to his country. I see him, since we are not supposed to be friends. He looks as good as he did all these years before when I swore I would love him forever.

He is a different man, I am a different woman. What else can be said about that?

We are friends now. Or at the very least, acquaintances that dont kill each other. I am going down again for his best friends wedding. I will see him again.

Sitting in this cafe, as his song came on, feeling nothing but fulfillment for myself. I realized how much I have grown.

It feels so good to not hurt from him anymore. And to enjoy the song for everything it reminded me off. The melancholic state of finally closing the chapter on that journey

In his room actually. His room. He is sitting in front of me working whilst Im sitting here pretending. Well actually not really. I do actually have to work. I like how he understands that. The stupid fickleness of my industry. The pain, the stress. The crying in the office when no one is around, hoping to dear god somebody comes over and puts you out of your misery.

Urgh. Its a bitch I know.

Time spent with him is beautiful. No matter how fleeting. He finds me in his sleep. Holds me close. We wake up in the morning, a tangled mess as we kiss.

Taboo taboo taboo. This whole thing; me and him.

Nobody can find out. Too much at stake for the both of us.

But time with him. Sitting in this room.

I feel a whole lot better

Sitting at the table. Watching him across from me. He eats, laughs, regales us with stories of his life.

All I can think off is why he hasn't made a move. Why he isnt even interested in asking me to come over.

I think about it more and I figure its not right for me to demand of this, to want to have something more than the nothing we already have. I have no say over his mind, his body. I have no say over his life. Nor do I ever want to, nor should he ever have over me.

I come home, and I think of the story of one. Of how, in completely realistic sense, it is extremely possible that people like me may walk through the rest of our lives alone.

Passing the cars on the way in, I thought, it sure would be nice to have a hand to hold right now.

I dont want the maybe's, I dont want to settle. I dont want anything less than what I deserve. But sometimes, you feel so lonely you just want company. Sometimes youre so empty you just want a distraction.

The cute colleague at work told me "you have friends who care about you. Sex doesnt solve that"

Caring is so much more different than loving.

Kisses laced with meaning. Fingers travelling down your life partners navel. Hands held because you want to always be connected to the other person. Hugs given freely to put a smile on your face. Eyes locked into each others. Understanding each others jokes. Anger dissipating when you think about the lifetime you have to argue forever.

Love. Love is better than sex of course. But that human connection. Sometimes I still crave that. To be touched and caressed as woman should. To fake love sometimes - and even more dangerously falling into the pit of your own creation.

To hold hands under a starry night and say nothing

I am sitting in a cafe right now. In front of me a man is playing the piano. Beautiful notes cascading through the air. Beside me there are huge fake trees with leaves scattered around its base, reminding me of fall in Chicago. Behind the piano man is glass, as far as the eye can see, and outside people are strolling, shopping, enjoying their lives.

I am sipping a cup of semi-cold coffee, a result of lack of attention for the past 3 hours.

Oh did I mention that Ive been here for over four hours now

Did I also mention I have been working non-stop since I got here
Oh, and its Sunday

Sometimes I hate my life.

He picks me up. Plops me on his bed. We are laughing at how ridiculous it all is.
He topples while setting me down. His body weight on mine.
Our lips are an eyelash away from each others. Our bodies intertwined.

He says no to me. Denies me himself.
Tells me it feels wrong, that he doesnt want to take advantage of me.
He says no, but he starts caressing my body
Says no but starts kissing me

Says no against me by pushing himself on me.

I had pined for him for so long. Finally ... finally... finally tasting him

Afterwards he rests his head on my belly
We sleep whilst holding hands
We shower
We grab lunch

We are both so tired from the lack of sleep. Both completely sapped off of our energy.

I want him. I want to date him. I want to be with him.

But I think for now though. Im just happy that I finally got him.