You know what that means?

After five weeks of leisure, I shall disappear back into the working world. Not just the working world, but the dark abyss that is the due diligence. Something that tends to suck your soul in and spits out a tired, grumpy, sleep deprived and much thinner me

And just when The Boyfriends coming back too =(

Hopefully he stays this time. Having him away for almost a year was pretty darn long...

Did I not mention? Somethings happened between us. I feel the old spark again, flutters again.

I feel the old him remembering me again...

A childhood long forgotten. He wasnt really present. Sometimes in the back of my memories I find a whisper of him. Him holding up a the fireworks for us. Us giggling and watching the colorful lights stream out. Him teaching me how to ride a bike. Holding on to the big bad wheels as I cycled on. But sometimes memories fail you, they reconstruct. Sometimes you imagine things that never really happened. You imagine things that you would like to happen.

I dont remember him being there much... was the biggest thing I remembered about him. He was always working. Working working working. And when he came home late in the evenings, my brother and I would pretend we were asleep, so that he would come and sit near us and then we can jump up and surprise him. But the closer my memories get to the present, the lesser he is present. The less prominent he becomes.

Funny isnt it? How your relationship with your father will form your relationship with the entire male race for the rest of your life. Sometimes you get unlucky and your father is a great fuck-up. What then? Do you think of the rest of them as fuck-ups as well? Do you go off trying to mess up the lives of every single one you can find? Sometimes you get lucky, and your father is a good man. A good role model, and you can base ideas of a perfect relationship based off that.

What do you do when you have an in-between-father? Like all of us?

The things that I remember most, growing up, was that I barely saw him. When I was 12-13, he would send me for trainings every day, so I saw him then, in between falling asleep under my blanket in the back of the car, and being carted back home after trainings. When I was ~13-15, I would see him on the weekends when I was allowed to go home from boarding school.

When I came back home from 15-18, he was virtually gone. I barely saw him, always claiming he was working late. every.single.fucking.night.

How did I not grow up to resent him? Him being late to anything that I had on. Him not really caring to fulfill the promises he made to me. (I still have a bike that has been waiting to be repaired since 1994) Him not asking about me, not curious about my life at all. Not caring about what I was up to.

It is not easy to keep on believing when you do not trust that he will fulfill his promises. It is not easy to keep trusting, when he shatters the things you hold true. It is not easy to spend a lifetime still with him, when all you can remember is that he didnt really want to spend your childhood with his life. All he ever wanted to do, was to just keep on working. Bring money to the house and all that.

It isnt easy since nothing has changed ever. Fights have come and gone between us. I have even yelled at him, telling him he was not a good father. That he never understood that he needed to take time to get to know us. That I did not care how much money he made for us, that all I ever wanted was just for him to be there.

My father was hospitalized recently. Another countless event of his damaged arteries. Four blockages, two operations later, he contacted a skin disease as well. On his left foot. Leaving him bedridden for more than two weeks.

I came to see him every day. And it wasnt easy. What was there for us to talk about? We had differing views on everything, especially religion. He did not like games. He did not like books. He did not like tv shows and movies. I am not his son. I do not know sports, or care to know them. There was nothing that we could talk about. But I am his daughter, and it is my duty, my blood to be with him. Regardless.

So I read to him, his menu options for the next day. Asked him to choose his food. And after two weeks I got sick and tired of doing that too. Asked him to just read it by himself. Why couldnt he just read it by himself? Lazy?!

To which he answered "At least Ill get to hear your voice"

Maybe finally, he is beginning to realize how much it had hurt to not have him there growing up. To only see him in clouds and pieces. Maybe he has suddenly realized how much it had hurt to have him betray us all. How much his actions were finally impacting and forming my relationship with men. Maybe he realizes how little of us he knows, how few the memories of us he holds.

Maybe he can stop believing that he had always been a good father and realize how much more we had wanted.

I cannot blame him now can I? He followed a fatherly model that is obsolete now. A father with 14 children could not provide much attention. A father with 14 children will only spend his time finding food so that his children may eat. How do you become a close father when that was all that you learned?

My five weeks is up now. He will recover slowly and go back to work now. Things wont change. He will come back at 12, 1, 2 in the morning just like he has been doing for the past 10 years now. Because he cant change. And I cant change. It isnt easy to forgive, but it is easier to understand why some things remain the same.

You wish you could take back words. Shouts, anger. Curses that are like piercing swords into a fathers heart when you tell him that he wasnt there for you. That he wasnt a good father.

Sometimes, and most of the time. I just wish that we could have taken it all back. Gone back to the very beginning, and for things to just work out the way it should. The way it has in so many other families.

He wasnt the perfect father. But I wasnt the perfect daughter either. I guess the only thing you can come to realize, is that we did the best that we could. Maybe he wasnt the best father, but he was the best father he could have been.

Sometimes its not easy, to look out when its hazy. When youre clouded by every which emotion possible. Its not easy to find a direction, a point. Hell its not even easy to find the sun (as is evident by the Haze that has recently hit my country)

Here's a story, of a woman so caught up in her haze, she could not notice she was acting crazy. like CRAZY. could not see the signs of a man who was no longer interested in her. Who decided to crush every last inch of dignity left in her for the dream of a future that was ONLY in HER head.

This is the story about my friends ex.

So I had this housemate. Back in college. He and I were good friends, and we used to have a ball laughing at all these girls that he used to date/ sleep with. Yes, I know, we were mean, but what else was there to do when you hear of these stories.

So lets call him S. Now S was a complete lothario. He's a white guy with serious (and I do mean serious) Asian fetish. This man speaks so many Chinese languages/ dialects and currently lives in HK. While in college, he was an economics and stats major (do you know how many asians are in the bulk of his class?)

Anyways, due to his charming nature and ability to speak the language (to the level where he can compose poetry in Chinese), he dated/ slept with (I swear) almost every asian in school. And since I lived with him, I was the benefactor of all these stories where the girls would just throw themselves at him. All these asian girls who were thinking that he was 'The One' that just could not fathom the thought that it was just in their heads.

Seriously, S and I used to sit around the dinner table and laugh at his girls. So one time, he dated this girl who was a little older than him. And after a while, they broke up. Now this girl was a complete nut job. She used to come over to the house, and shout his name from the ground floor until our neighbors would come out. Until he had to invite her in because it was embarassing. Then of course she tried to get into his room, tried to sleep in his room, in his bed. All the while thinking, of course I can make him want me. He kicked her out, slammed and locked the bedroom door and she sat outside all night. Clawing the door, whispering his name.

Creepy I tell you? Nope not over yet.

She would call him and not say anything just so that she can hear his voice. She would stalk him on the college grounds and follow him. Crying in public. She held on to his shirt and even after he called her the worst chinese swear known to man (he said it was something along calling her cunt liquid or something I cant remember). She held on to his shirt and he struggled to get away. She ended up ripping his shirt.

Crazy? Nope not yet.

So he ended up going for an internship (we were back in the US then) somewhere in China or HK I cant remember. And she had actually FLOWN OVER to find him. Seeked out his hotel room. They called him and he told them to NOT RELEASE HIS ROOM NUMBER. Somehow or other, the next thing he knows, she is back in front of his hotel room door. Calling for him.

So what was it about this S that made girls act this crazy? (Like I said, he and I used to laugh about his girls, so can you imagine how many crazy stories like these are out there). What was it about him that made girls fly over the sea just to catch a glimpse of him, thinking all the while, well if Im here with him, he wont be able to resist me. If Im here with him and he talks to me, then he must still like me.

What was it that made these women think they were all in love with him. That they were all destined to have a future with him. Made them tell everyone who tried to advice them, that they didnt understand this feeling of love?

Nothing. It was nothing about him.

It was all in their heads. Or in all of our heads, when we justify all these small things. When we make excuses for his behavior. When a fleeting look is enough to make you feel that the both of you were meant to be forever. When every little act that he does gets blown out of proportion. When you dont realize, there is very little he is acting on.

I know it was mean to laugh at her. But honestly, someone who was throwing away that much dignity, that much self-respect. For a relationship that lasted what, all of 3 months? To deplete her resources, waste her time, her emotions. To decide to fly half way across the world for a man who doesnt even love you. Or like you. Or care about you. Or even wants to see you (because if he did, wouldnt he be calling you? trying to meet you?)

Lesson from this? We should always, always, learn to separate the haze. To find reality.

And hopefully preserve some self worth and dignity before its too late.

A person very close to me warned me that I am venturing pretty close into doormat territory. Reminded me to not give in too much. Reminded me that I have already done a lot, sacrificed a lot.

Reminded me that I was always always always thinking about his feelings. Had he ever made a decision based on mine? Asked me if he has done things to make me happy?

I dont know actually. Because I cant tell if he thinks about my feelings or not. I am casual and have no problems saying to someone "I am doing this because I care about you" or to think about how the other person may feel before I make a decision and tell them I was thinking about them before making a decision.

I cant really tell if The Boyfriend does the same. Because he simply doesnt verbalize things very much. Perhaps he does not have my gift of the hyperbole or flair for drama.

Could he do more? Im sure he can. After all, what is life if it wasnt filled with vast room for improvements. But has everything thats happened been enough?

Ill be honest. I really dont know. Our relationship has been evolving so much from the very beginning. Initially I was someone who needed a lot of contact. To hear his voice a lot. See him a lot. Eventually after this became a big area of contention for us, I started losing my need for it. Stopped needing to hear his voice. To talk to him anymore. Does this mean I sacrificed a part of myself, a part of my expectation? I dont know.

We tried, to have longer phone calls, or more frequent phone calls. But then we would end up with lots of empty space, lots of empty conversation. And was that worth it just to check the box that said he had called? No it most deff wasnt. So eventually, the importance on that matter ceased as well.

Then of course, there were the emails. Flying back and forth between work. As well as the messenger (thank god for office messenger) that we would have. Sometimes long lags in between. Mostly short, straightforward, to the point. Did I want flowery romantic emails and constant email from him. Sure I did, which girl wouldnt? But we were practical. And it was enough to remind me that he wanted to at least communicate with me.

Of course, it doesnt beat seeing him face to face. Though that need and desire of mine has not changed. (After all, if a person doesnt actually want to see or spend time with their partner, then hello! there is deff something wrong with the relationship) that too eventually got compromised. Him being posted to the middle east close to what was it, 6-9 months? and then off to Indonesia for another 6. Made it so difficult to keep this option open. Him being closer now does make a difference. And in the beginning we tried to see each other more often.

But with work scheduling and differences. When both of you are consultants and all you want to do on the weekend is sleep or work, seeing each other too, becomes much much harder.

Of course, then (and this perhaps might be my one area of contention) came the conversation about sharing things together. Information. Pieces of your life. I wanted it, he didnt. Essentially told me that he didnt need to tell me things "If they didnt concern me". Why was it important for me to know where he had gone or what he had been up to if I wasnt in any which way involved in it.

How do I explain to someone who is so independent that this is what you call a relationship. When you just want to know and keep on knowing about the other person. It was painful I will admit when he told me I didnt need to know things about his life that didnt concern me. Felt like I was being shoved behind a big giant door that said 'you dont deserve to be in here'.

Of course, that too was something I decided to bypass. To simply say, fine. If you dont want to tell me fine. I feel like Im being pushed out of your life but if thats the way you feel about it, then fine.

So is this what it is to sacrifice? to eventually have all my expectations of a relationship stripped away? Or are these merely excuses for me to justify behavior?

Am I a doormat that keeps on getting stamped on, prodded on, unappreciated?

I honestly cannot tell.

I was tired. Tired of lying to everyone so that people would think things are ok. Tired of spending week nights with my friends who are married, who hold hands while he kisses her hair, her forehead. I am tired of even being with my perennial bachelor friend who finally decided to settle down with a girl. Tired of half partners willing to fly in from Spain to spend time together here.

I am tired of the happy couples. I am tired of pretending I am part of a happy couple.

So I lie. Grit my teeth and tell everyone he isnt here because he wanted to explore another country. Tell people I am not there because I am needed her by my family. I drop little hints about him so that people still feel that he and I are still together, sharing, happy, strong. That we are independent couples just gone off and done our own things but will eventually come back again.

But above all, I am tired of lying to myself. I prefer not the truth, prefer the truth not be known, because I keep hoping and wishing that things will turn around. That somehow, miraculously, eventually, he would realize how much I am worth to give up. I dont want to break this bubble this spell because I want there to be a chance. I dont want to break this bubble because I still miss him. I still miss us. I still want us

As it turns out, he is tired too. Tired of making up stories for my not being there. Tired of answering questions about me, my situation. I asked him if he would prefer people know, so that they would stop bothering him. He tells me he isnt sure if it would be helpful to him.

I realized then, him not wanting to tell other people, it wasnt because he was harboring the same hope and wishes too.

I am alone in this rainmakers dance. Hoping and wishing that enough sitting still on the side and praying will return things to how it used to be when everything was sunshine and rainbows. Or knowing that no matter what the storm, eventually there would be sunshine and rainbows. It turns out I am dancing to no music. Spiralling in a trance. I am the only person wishing for this still. Dreaming of us still.

Perhaps its time for me to stop lying to myself. To realize there is no one left in the room but me now. Burst the bubble and say it out loud so that I am reminded constantly there is nothing left behind. Even our ashes have risen and been blown off. No more hope. No more wishing.

No more lies.

Ive been going through the paces now, one step at a time now. And lists lists lists! keeps popping in my head reminding me of my place in time in history. I must not lie. I will say that I am enjoying my leave of absence. I have a purpose daily : Be with dad in hospital, and study for GMATs. Whatever remainder of time I have, I get to spend on other fun wholesome activities!

Ive
1. Checked out a flea market
2. Gone to a ballet (sorta)
3. Seen Barbies exhibition/ or challenges of age
4. Walked by floating kites in the park
5. Checked out Harpers Bazaars photo exhibition
6. Had dinner with friends in new restaurants like Bar Italia...

I will
1. Go for my first comedy night (attending not participating)
2. Check out the dragonboat festival
3. See 2 new art exhibitions (in 2 separate locations)
4. Watch percussions concert
5. Debating signing up for a book club discussion on One Fifth Avenue (what?! this would be my first foray into the deep book discussion world on chick lit. Time to put to good use my philosophical developments honed through my creative writing course in college... plus theres a Marie Claire goodie bag at stake)
6. Japanese film festival
7. Independent films being shown for free!
8. And of course... my kryptonite... trying to sign up for 3 10km runs. The standard chartered one (if I can get the blardy ppl to let me sign in), the Siemens run, and the Shape night run! in Putrajaya! Should be real pretty, and at least quite unique. Im hoping by signing up for these things and putting money down I would be really motivated to actually go running.

So far, having no salary has been somewhat... liberating. surprised? I know I am. But I try other options for dining, even (aghast!) cooking!. I dont buy things simply because I want it. More on the premise of needing it. And Miss C who has been quite a constant companion with me is helping me out quite a lot by reminding me constantly that I have no money. hahahahaha

And then of course! the postcard keeps on coming from my old library manager who has promised himself a new country every year! he has reached 54 (though his age is likely to be 45) hahaha sorry Dan. And then, I was like... ooo! What do I have!
1. Malaysia
2. Uzbekistan (dont ask)
3. Canada
4. USA
5. Venezuela
6. France
7. Italy
8. Switzerland
9. Japan
10. Singapore (counts!)
11. Indonesia
12. Thailand
13. Vietnam
14. Laos
15. Cambodia
16. Hong Kong
17. Taiwan
18. India
19. Australia
20. Spain
21. UAE
22. UK
and hopefully by end of year 23. Egypt! With The Wolf!!

see how my lists gives me things to look forward to?

but of course
12 days till I start work again
11 days till I take the exam?
3 days before I register to take the exam? hahaha
and 1 day before visiting the Museum of Islamic Arts with Miss C!

I must say... I am starting to truly appreciate this lifestyle. Reminds me how life and work should work out...

Of course, would be nice to have a purpose and a salary to go with this as well. hahaha