Just my imagination

So, what do you do when someone whom you loved has an understanding of reality so different from yours that it makes everything you shared seem worse than the boring imagination of a primary 3 kid?

And what would you interpret if the only time you shouted and perhaps, even scolded someone you loved may seem, to her, like the only time that you were real?

I cried. And then, I flared up. The word that was used to describe that incident was 'outburst'. So, I guess, that must be the only time I had felt realistic. In the long uphill hike of a relationship.

You sit down to watch tv, and you thought the lines were cliche and not realistic. Only to be told that your own dance was even less so.

Nothing, no bloody thing is real in this stage. Ever-changing, never-lasting figment of all our imagination that at one time, coincided.

Such is my level of existential living at this point in time.

Riding on the edge

So, the way to recognise insecurities is when you go 'oh shit... how am I going to do it?' or 'Can I do it?' or...

Actually, I have a lot of insecurities. I just am too good with all those manuals of masking all of them up.

If indifference is a kind of defense mechanism, then, I suspect, I've not stopped being defensive since 10 years ago.

I keep a diary. Since 15 years ago. If a psychologist were to read my diary, would he or she be able to tell me what went wrong in my growing up?

Maybe nothing went wrong. It's just that... I really can't figure it out now.

The eternal seeking of me

I find myself at this transition platform where the debris and dust of the past 2 years seem to have settled, or are settling well and the promise and potential of the future seem to be trying in their way to get through to me.

It's like being in a state where I have nothing again. Behind me, a door half closed; in the front of me, a door just slightly ajar.

I had to reach forgiveness first before I could believe in the possibility of the future. I had to reach empathy first before I could see how to let go. I had to reach pain and confusion first before I could even attempt to see some order and clarity. I had to reach a rejection of myself first before I could bring down the barricades to reaching me.

I have to give up the expectation first before I could start a fresh page of understanding and knowledge. I have to let my dreams become more vague before I denounce seeing your face in everyone in my dream. I have to go back to being nothing and accept that as a new ground to work and start walking from. Alone.

It's like denouncing the past 5 years of knowing who I am. You are my catalyst. Not my only reason. I built up so many layers and tried to laugh at how much an irony I am. Everyone knows me in a rather universal way. But not the way I know myself, unless I told myself I was like that. I became 'queen', 'princess' and all sorts of nouns and adjectives that, at some nights, I found so misused on me. More and more, things couldn't be said, feelings couldn't be shared, thoughts couldn't be uttered because I was living in so many shadows, under so many different masks.

Some of these became real. Some, I always wanted to rid of. But didn't know how. And perhaps, I was afraid to lift. For who would I be, without so many of these masks? I didn't even know.

And now? Now, I don't too. But, I began to recount the years. The year in which I started to tell myself, quote myself words from all those self-help books, whose advice I internalised possibly a little too quickly. To appear to have no issue with self-confidence, to appear to be strong, to appear to be well-managed, to appear to be an effective communicator.

And, they are all falling apart now. And I like to see them fall apart. Just like I would like for me to be known, layer by layer off. To be just a very normal girl. Maybe boring. Maybe stupid. Maybe silly. Maybe. Maybe just trying to be me without thinking of how me is to you.

Kiss and make up

I laid on my bed, and I couldn't sleep. I saw us looking at each other, looking into each other. And I saw us kiss. I saw our first kiss.

And I couldn't bear that image. I tried to shut it off. But, I ended up missing you even more.

How come we didn't just kiss and make up on that faraway September afternoon?

I hate September. I hate autumn. Autumn always reminds me of endings and dread.

The frown I've missed

There were times when you would frown upon something confusing or something that sounded profound and your system was trying to figure or decode it. Or maybe, just something that you didn't quite get. And I would find that so adorable. That was what I meant when I said, often in the beginning, that you are so adorable. And seeing that kind of frown on your face made me can't help but to smile.

Do you know how uncontrollable is the desire to want to love you, to love that unassuming and simple you? All in a frown? Do you know how the prolonged smile came about? The prolonged smile you were so proud to have put on my tired, jaded spirit.

And all the rolling of my eyes... and the 'L' sign I made with my fingers. 'L' being Lame. They disappeared when the disillusions stepped in, didn't they? I'm so sorry they did.

Is it too late to retrace some steps? Just when the new year has begun...