heartbreaking notions

I don’t know where to start. The words simply clump up in my throat, like the withered leaves that clog around the drain during a sad, lonely day in fall. The night has finally arrived; the night where all notions of the breakup that we are facing shall be put to an end. I have to do it, don’t I?

I watched you while you were sleeping on the couch in the living room just now. It’s probably the 100000th time you told me not to wake you up so that we can sleep together on my bed. Our bed. Said because you find it a hassle to wake up just to shift back into the room when you have to wake by 6.30.

I stared for really long, mind you. I knelt down and ruffled your hair, took a sniff and a long, lovely gaze. You smell just the way I imagined, the familiar scent that envelops me when we cuddle. It reminds me of our love; the one we had a long long time ago until our problems outweighed it.

But… it’s going to be the first time I will obey that instruction that you gave. I will learn how not to be soft hearted again, how to not be so clingy; how to finally learn to get through a night where we lie so near, yet our hearts are miles apart.

There are many things I wanted you to know. However, right now, I can only wish that in the future, the thoughts will finally dawn upon you.

People always say its childish, to make a big deal out of who wins or loses in a relationship. But how is that childish? You’ve really defeated me hands down. Your bitter castigation, your passive aggression and all the moves that you have remotely outplayed me of. I guess, I am quite the loser, having gone down without a fight. I just allow myself to cry and mope over my own weakness. I actually fully embraced the gaping difference in our intelligence, the disparity of emotional detachment and then mock myself wryly.

What was that triumph card you held? The one that you held proudly over your head whilst we stood, divided, on the fragmented mounds of our broken relationship – It was simply the fact that you made everything seemed like it was my fault.

The best part; is the fact that I know you aren’t happy or anything. You are heartbreakingly sad. Probably just as sad as I am. It’s just that you simply had to do whatever you did to make yourself feel better about it. It’s almost as if you wanted to hurt me to ensure that I am hurting as much as you are.

I remember I tried to leave A alot of times. Until my friends were sick of me saying “Hey I swear i’m gonna leave him for good” and it never happens.

Why is this still happening? I realized I never actually matured in the sense of love. Am I a masochist? Right now I think there’s no denying it. Yes I guess I do fall into that pathetic stereotypical group of girls who simply love the pain.

Has it occurred to you that maybe I love you very fucking much for me to cry with burning humiliation in front of my sister, my friends and the public?

And in that 1 year 5 months of knowing me has it occurred to you that I do in fact love my pride alot, and I love you so fucking much that I allowed you to step on it like some shitty little cockroach fighting for life?

When I tugged at your arm, when my voice became so small because my eyes were choked with tears. When I ran out of ways to get across to you, to beg you to stop, when I started crying hysterically, kneeling on the floor, slamming my exasperated fists into the wall and onto the bed….

Has it occurred to you how much I love you?

We both know what the root of the problem is. – That we simply just don’t suit each other. But yes our hearts more than often enjoys disconnecting from our brains and in turn we act on the desires of our hearts.

I am sorry that I can’t be the kind of girl you want, the docile, feminine ideal wife material. A part of me is, but it’s not enough for you. You want me to be destitute of emotions, of my needs, of my wants, my hopes and dreams.

It’s kind of like a parasite. You want me to latch onto your dreams, your happiness, your well-being and derive my own lifeline from there.

Yes, you need a coffee; Honey let me get that for you right away. Are you hungry? Yes i will cook the noodles for you, in your style, your way. Sorry, did I put too much water? Please, finish the terrible noodles i cooked… I will do better next time. I am in the mood for sex, but oh you are tired, yes of course dear its normal for you to reject me, because I am not as attractive as the girls you look at on facebook. Oh wait what? I am napping but you are in the mood for sex. Yes of course honey, I will let you fuck me anytime you want to, because its a rare commodity. Even harder than getting a mythical bundle in dota2. Sorry, I know I look like a fucking gangster with the way I talk, so uncouth, unlike a girl. I am sorry that my conversations with my friends bore you. I see your phone is always on your hand whenever we are out. Yes I went out with a guy for dinner, because I stopped trying to make my life to revolve around you. Oh wait what do you mean you don’t remember the time where I made sure every appointment I had stops before 6.30 so that I can be at where you’d be after work? The waitress was so rude to me! But yes sorry baby I am just being a bitch when I tried to reason for better customer service. I should shut up and do my own reflections as to why she gave me bad service. Yes that guy likes me. I am sorry that I am such a whore, talking to him and all. I know its wrong for me to seek solace in other people when you left me crying for several nights. I am sorry I can get so horny just by someone speaking good english to me, and also, masturbating so much that the porn site is on my most frequented chrome tab. Oh you mean you are pretty sure I have been fucking around. Yes god damn I have been. Maybe that’s the reason why I still unabashedly ask you for sex. and crying after having been rejected by you. GOD. speaking of which yes you can’t stand my sarcasm nor my attitude. But why yes of course I can tolerate yours, after all you only show me attitude because I have done something extremely wrong, being the unreasonable slut that I am.

I guess I am indeed a very childish, very needy, and extremely whorish person. All I can say is, I really tried.

But I really can’t do it. I wonder about that every day. Does that make me a failure? A bad girlfriend? My emotions and my wants and needs have broken free and gone out of hand. My eyes are tired of being the most frequented emotional outlet. My hands are sore from the countless times I plummeted the various surfaces. And my heart…. is so so empty.

It doesn’t really matter what the world thinks, What I think. Most importantly, its what YOU think. I am shit-assed godforsaken kind of terrible in your eyes.

But I love you. I really do. And we both know that I love you enough to let you go.

I have to let you go. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be.

Just grit our teeth, let me be the one to finally set the ravages of our love on fire. We get through the notions… and we’ll survive.

And then you’ll be happier. So much happier.

And I will probably still love you through all of that.

letting go

I’d always remember him like a fleeting dream. That night we first met, etched so deep in my head, it’s almost as though that fragment of memory is bent on nestling there, within the depths, to be ever so painfully reminisced, over and over again.

I listened to blue jeans on replay, as the adrenaline from our first ever texts prevented me from catching up on sleep. He was too beautiful, too much of everything that I wanted. Sounds like exaggerated perfection, but no. he stood out; among the chaotic crowd in the way I visioned “him” to be, like the missing jigsaw to my almost complete life.

It was the best time to be in love. It was the best time for US to be in love, with each other. He wanted to be loved, and I wanted to love someone, who actually wants all of my love. All that was overflowing at the brim.

We were like magic together. Like the over-rated romance you see on screen, where the man pins her against the wall and lock lips, tells her that she’s beautiful, watches her do her make up, have crazy, awesome sex and does every single thing every day with no relent.

I miss our relationship, very much. The conversations laced with puns, with synergy and with so much love. I miss so many things that its impossible to go through every day, doing anything without that sardonic jolt as my brain takes me on a trip.

We parted, as like all the ephemeral things, like a snowflake dancing and falling into your open palm. He moved on with life, and so did I. Yet I realized that in my heart, I never truly left our relationship. How do you simply move on from something so perfect? Do you take a winning lottery ticket, toss it into the sea and say “BYE, 1MILLION DOLLARS, BYE~~” Do you give up the job that you love, that loves you back and say “Fuck, I am just going to settle for a <insert irrelevant shitty jobs here>”

Are you wondering why I didn’t say “I miss him” instead, its “I miss our relationship”? Because when you fall in love with someone, it can end up in alot of shitty ass ways. But being in a relationship is different from simply loving someone. Being in love with the relationship is loving how the two of you are together. And I loved that. I loved that so much that it clouded my vision.

You know how people always pat you on the back and say “Cheer up, you will find someone better.” The truth is that everyone is someone better. Everyone is someone worse. All that really matters is whether or not the “better” parts of the someone fits what tickles your fancy.

When I was with that boy, I looked at all his better parts. And I loved them to bits. But I also looked at his worse parts and decided that hey, I can live with that. I embrace that and most importantly, I can fix them.

But now as the words that left his lips perpetually resonates in my head: Move on, don’t cling on ;

I asked myself, why did we had to part? What happened to us? And I realized the answer is that I have been focusing too much on the beauty of our relationship that I have forgotten to remember that beauty is only superficial.

 

move on, don’t cling on.