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Dearest ex boyfriend of mine.

Dearest RS,

Chances are you are not reading this but it is alright. I don’t really need you to be. This is more for me.

And if by some twist of fate you are reading… “you can tell everybody, this was your song.”

24 things I wish I had said to you so my 24th year can be a fresh start 

1) That day, way back, when we went out for coffee almost 6 months after you left and you kissed me? When you said “this was a mistake”, I was about to say “I missed you.”

2) Your insecurities were not my fault.

3) I am sorry you did not tell me how much pain you were in.

4) I am so much more sorry that even though you never told me, I did not see it myself. I am still struggling to make peace with myself about not having seen the sadness behind your smile. I am sorry.

4) For the longest time, I could not bring myself to remove the “<3” next to your name on my phone.

5) The night you left, I cried. A LOT. And I waited until morning for you to message me again and say it was a mistake.

6) I no longer wonder what you are doing with your life anymore.

7) Sometimes, when I hear “I’m yours” or “Is It Love”, it reminds me of us but in a completely neutral way. It makes me feel a bit sad for what we could have been, but it mostly feels like remembering someone else’s memories.

8) I was never able to forgive you for asking to get to know me again and then never getting back in touch.

9) It scares me how little I know you now. There was a time I could tell what you were thinking just by the look on your face.

10) I never said thank you for a lot of things when I should have.

11) I wish I told you more often about the smaller details I would hold close to my heart. Things like how all I ever listened to when you were away for 6 months was “Stereo Hearts”. The song just came out and I felt like it described you and I. I just never told you.

12) I thought I would be the one to leave you if our relationship ever went bad because I have always been afraid of how cold you will be to me if you were the one to end it.

13) I could never bring myself to hate you despite it all.

14) I still don’t believe you did not have feelings for her or that you did not, at the very, least think of trying something with her.

15) If ever her and I cross paths… She better run.

16) Contrarily to what you seem to believe, your mother was absolutely not my number one fan. She was my number Leave-My-Son-The-Eff-Alone fan.

17) I got so upset at you leaving that I threw the necklace you gave me in the sea. Then I spent hours trying to find it again because not having it made me feel worse. And then I spent days crying because there’s a lot of sand at the bottom of the sea to sift through when you are looking for a necklace you threw from a cliff with your eyes closed.

18) The first time you drunk dialed me after it was over and said you were with another girl made me feel so bad I had to go to the hospital because of a panic attack.

19) I burst out in tears on a date with someone new a few weeks after you left. Him and I no longer talk. I think he is a little scared of me…

20) When you find someone new, you will realize what you had with me. Not because I am better or worse, but just because it won’t be me.

21) You are a bit of a mama’s boy.

22) I am thankful for you having been in my life. Nothing will ever change how much you helped me and how much of a good person you are and always will be.

23) When you’re not in love with someone anymore, them being stubborn and arguing to the bone even though they are wrong is just really not cute or endearing. It is actually pretty difficult to put up with.

24) You are an awesome person, with a great big heart and I truly wish you all the best even if you will never read this to know so.

Love,

A girl with a great big attitude.

..

And with those words he will never read finally out of my system, I say.. BRING IT 24!!!

Buh-ring it.

And then, a smile.

Gosh… what an absolute bore of a read I’ve been.

I apologize. It’s all nag, nag, nag in every post, but this was my only outlet for the chaos.

No one around me really realized the gaping hole I had in my chest, I did not let them. I prefer to walk around more upbeat than everyone else, hyperactive like I fell in speed, buzzing around as though nothing is wrong.

And when things suckerpunch me in the face like they did, I turn to an anonymous virtual world where no one can see me cry, wince, or sigh. You can only read. God forbid I should ever write my name here.

Anyway.. in happier news, I have decided to take my own advice. I was recently telling a friend to grab life by the balls, excuse my French, because.. why not?

I don’t think there will ever be another phase in life where we can safely say we are young adults, with our own income, with no one’s else needs to cater to but our own. No spouse, no children.

And then, the million dollar question…

What do I want to build?

I am young. I am independent. My decisions are not tied to anyone other than me.

There must be something I want to do.

My plan to figure it out is simple: try everything.

2013 was not kind to me, but I intend on giving it a royal EFF YOU before it ends by fighting back.

Down the rabbit hole I go.

I think.. Well no, I know people already saw this coming.

They knew. My boyfriends, my friends, my family.. my little voice inside my head.

They knew. This girl will crash one day.

And I have. Man oh man, did I crash hard..

I’ve seen it coming too , sometimes. When RS would hold me then say things like “you should be nicer to yourself” or when my friends would laugh and say “but you never cry, you push through everything.”

I do cry, is what I would think to myself, just not in front of you. Not in front of anyone at all.

Show no weakness.

All alone in my apartment, all I see these days are outlines of memories and snippets of conversations I did not even know my mind had kept.

“You can’t do everything by yourself. One day you’ll have to trust someone.”
“You can’t do everything for everyone, no person should take on so much on their own shoulders.”
“Why are you such a fighter? Why can’t you put your guards down for a change and let someone in?”
“You’ll crash, you’ll crash. And all I want to do is love you, and all you want to do is be strong for everyone but yourself!”
“Then go. LEAVE! Leave me and leave everything you want so others can get what they want.”
“Get out! It’s not like you can help anymore, get the eff out.”
“You think anyone will do for you what you do for them? What will it take for you to see they won’t be there when you fall?”

I hear them all.

Their voices whisper around me.

Distorted faces spinning, foreseeing that I would fall this hard, pushing me not to.. or waiting for it to happen? I don’t know anymore.

Did I really crash at long last?

It’s not like I have the world on my teenie tiny shoulders, just a really big chunk of it since a very young age.

I learnt… Or maybe I taught myself early on to keep my guards up and do things myself.

“Toughen up. Show no weakness. Smile. Guard Yourself, Smile.  Watch your back. Ask no help. Dry your tears. Head up. Shoulders back, Smile. Show no pain.”

Maybe.. Maybe.. somewhere deep down  a child with scars running too deep did not know how to heal so she hid behind fake strength to never have to have to feel pain again.

And it took me years to realize that my whole life was based on a strategy devised by a wounded little girl.

Where were you all, when I was self destructing for years on end?

Those I have given everything to, have you just watched me set myself up to fall in a whole so deep I haven’t even hit the bottom yet?

All those times you called on me.. All those broken pieces I fixed.. where are you now that I have found my abyss?

No helping hand for the person that carried you through so much. Good job.

Knock me down

I am tired.

I was only gone from the dating scene 2 years, not a whole lifetime, and yet it feels like some turn of the century revolution exploded while I was away.

What the hell happened to people in between?!
When did everyone become so dishonest that mentioning you are someone’s fiance is not even important anymore?

That’s right, gentlemen, if you put a ring on another girl’s finger… you cannot go out on dates with someone else! That becomes a “NO NO”. Write it down now, try to remember it.

And here’s another thing, if she is still your girlfriend not your fiancee, you STILL cannot take another girl out on a date. Or even ask her out on one. And most definitely not proclaim you want to marry her!

Just NO.

What is wrong with guys now?! What have I missed while in my ditch-me-on-Christmas-Day relationship with RS?

I get criticized by family, friends and acquaintances for being unable to trust people but why bother opening up my heart to so much dishonesty.

I am worn out from a battle with myself, just trying not to  become negative and cynical. But I am sinking fast.

The more I look around me, the more I feel like there is no good to be found in at least 99% of people.

Not too long ago, I was convinced that the majority of lovers in a relationship are, at the very least, honest to each other. Now I think no one’s heart is safe with anyone, whether the label is “in a relationship”,”engaged” or “married”.

It is not right that I somehow ended up in the presence of a guy who did not consider it important to mention his significant other all those times he took me out. Silly, silly me thinking “while you marry me?” was a question exclusive to one person.

Why is it that my heart cracked while he had the benefit of having the care and attention of two young women who knew nothing of one another?

It is not like I dress inappropriately or act suggestively. Even if I wanted too, I am far too shy to ever be able to.

And the sadistic little voice inside my head singing “RS and Boobzella, Boobzella and RS…”

Imightbelosingmymind.

Eff you too, Karma.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Karma is like Santa, the boogy man and the tooth fairy. It is not there.

I live my life trying to do the right thing. And for the bigger part, I think I do. Where I was able to, I have done what I can and more to be honest and do good by others and help those I can and not harm people I did not like even though I really could have if I wanted to.

I tried to base my life on the mantra “the good and the bad you do will find its way back”. What goes around comes around type of thing.

Except… nothing really comes back around, does it.

Parents tell their children based on what they themselves were told by their parents who were probably themselves taught by their parents that you should be good towards others because one day someone will be good to you too.

Um… okay. Well, LIES.

And thank you so very much for filling my head with poetic justice fairy tales my whole life until I got stainless steel stuck in my windpipe.

I am not asking for a “you’re a good human being” trophy to suddenly fall out of the sky in gratitude. It defeats the purpose of helping others if all you want is to be recognized. The deal breaker is when I see dishonest, cheating, people get what they want. And then – and this is where it gets good-  get what I want after they made me help them to it.

Yes, this is about the time you and me both realize that I am a bit of a naive dumbo with below average skills at pinpointing hidden agendas.

Exploit me, world, please. I won’t notice until it is too late anyway.

What are we supposed to teach our children later on?

Be good towards others and you can stand on the side line to watch them get away with ridiculous amounts of dishonesty so they can snatch whatever their heart desires. Oh, hold on sweetheart they’ll even slither their way into snatching whatever your heart desires. But hey.. keep.. being.. good… ?

Somewhere between the “what the eff” and “seriously?” thoughts in my head, I know I have not gone bitter. I could not have.

I would like to think there is still a little bit of optimism in my heart that has not been drained out by recent events.

So for now… eff you, Karma. Eff you very very much.

“You, me, and our back up lovers” – Sponsored by ThatsFuckedUp

I’ve written and re-written this post a few times. I am finding it hard to translate into words just how much the whole “they are my back-up” concept gets my brain stuck.

Some things should always be wrong. Whether you are an 80’s child or a 90’s child, some lines are just not meant to be crossed.

And as much as I wished for it, no justice dragon is ever going to pop out of the center of the world and hold people accountable for the sneaky, messed up things they do.

Using someone as an ends to a mean is not okay. It should never be okay, not when it is so premeditated and calculated.

A few months back, I asked a friend why they were actively encouraging the attention of so many different people even though they had a significant other who loves them very, very much.

“Look, there’s no harm in keeping a back-up. Or a few even. If things don’t work out, I’ll always have someone else to fall back on.”

I am usually an opinionated person, one not afraid to voice where I stand, but I had nothing to say.

No witty comment, no sarcastic answer.

It is perverse, too subtle to be called cheating and too devious not to be. I do not understand why someone in a loving relationship would make themselves available to others “just in case”.

The safest feeling in the world has to be knowing someone can care about the smallest thing in your life despite your flaws. What better feeling than when that they say “I  love you”? You know you’re broken and imperfect. They know it too. And they still look at you as though their gravity depends on your smile. It should not be treated as any other commodity to be bargained for and cheated on.

I have done my fair share of stupid mistakes in relationships. Manipulating other people’s feelings to keep my options open is not one of them and I am starting to feel like that might be more to my disadvantage, The more people I talk to about this, the more it seems like my whole generation is well and aware of the back up trend except for stupid little me.

Is it really that naive to believe love should be exempt from such a level of deceit?

I already have a hard enough time trusting people courtesy of one too many back stabs in the past. Now, it seems like even when you do manage to lower your guards and trust someone… well you probably should not. Because, hey, they might be entertaining back ups while you’re not there.

Wow. Yeah. Let’s go back to arranged marriages then.

Still trying to wrap my head around this: the majority of people in a solid relationship out there string others along as a safety net to keep their options open…

Ding Ding Ding someone won a free trip to the psychiatrist. Might be me.

 

Nice Girls Finish Last Too!

Aah.. if that’s not the truth

“And it’s so hard to do, and so easy to say. But sometimes, sometimes you just have to walk away” – Ben Harper

Up until today, my plan to cope with my heartbreak has been going pretty shitty.Three cheers for me.

I’ve been attending a crash course training for work. By the 10AM coffee break, the aching in my chest turns breakfast into an up chuck reflex.

Confirmation: semi-digested cereals are a disgusting sight.
Visual aid: one morning it was coco pops. You’re welcome.

I have never had my heart broken. I always wondered why people could not move on. Now I know.

The pain stems from the fact that you are now un-linked from each other. It grows from the slash that person leaves when they rip you away cold turkey from the chunk of common life you both had. The blood is in subtle things, like knowing someone accepted you despite your flaws and a guaranteed person to lean on during tough times. It’s throwing up in a bathroom at a training center and my first instinct is to call him. At some other point in time, he would have cared this was happening to me and he would have made it okay. Except, I’m throwing up because of him and he doesn’t care anymore.

“You hurt me.”

How I wish that could still mean something to him when I am the one saying it. A three word sentence to try to convey an emotional pain so intense it translates to physical ache and bile. He left me a few days before Christmas through jumbled text messages about how we should go our separate ways. Since then, I froze in a mix of break and denial.

I drove myself to tears, repeatedly, hating everything that ever made me who I am.
My hair. My laugh. My size. My voice. My lips. My clothes. My feet.
All of me.

It got to the point where I hated my name because I felt it no longer reflected who I had become. Everyone around me seemed to be using it to refer to a more complete person I once was and that had long gone missing.

I went on believing that at any moment he was going to come back and tell me how my absence in his life mattered.  I got off work every day only to scan the faces of strangers under the office searching for the comfort of his features. In some of the less rational places of my mind, I had whispered to myself that he’ll be there one day, waiting for me with his boyish smile and his warm hands. It wasn’t something I was aware I was doing. It wasn’t a logical thought process. My eyes just searched deliriously. Maybe my subconscious self destructed too.

Then he got with that pouty Boobzella.

I lost even more sleep, weight and whatever remained of my ability to be good company.

But the tiniest spark lit up in my soul today, one  for me to live again. I want to feel okay with being myself again. My turning point was earlier this morning. I got sick at training, again. I wash up and pinch my cheeks to add a little life to a sunken face. On my way back to the course, I caught sight of a girl in a side mirror. It took my brain half a second to recognize it was me, but I had already thought to myself “god, she looks miserable.” And I do. I look like shit. I am a sad, faded outline with sunken eyes.

I finally saw what everyone else had been seeing. I have been walking around looking like the misery train hit me right in the face. Me… I used to be bubbly and giggly and energetic. I would be buzzing around my day wearing the brightest colored clothes instead of my current monochrome selections.

The pity fest is not who I am, and I want to be me again. Even if it is someone he no longer wanted, I want to find myself again. For no better reason other than I miss the peace of my mind that comes with knowing and accepting yourself.

“The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” – Gary Jules

I just want to be able to sleep again.

That is all.

To sleep, without falling into memories. To wake up to an alarm clock, no matter how shrill, instead of the sound of my own crying.

To no longer look so old and drained.

I just want a normal night’s sleep. That state where you are neither alive nor dead, just unaware of whatever your reality is.

If you are reading, I hate you for the pain you have inflicted to the furthest corners of my mind where I should be able to retreat and regroup.  You sneak into my subconscious while I toss and turn trading sanity for sleep.

I hate you for everything you ever were to me, every burnt memory replaying behind eyes forced shut, every color you once added to my life- I hate you because I cannot hate you at all.

I used to tell him he was the blood in my veins, the beat to my heart. Horribly enough he still is.

“That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world. A beautiful, little fool.” – The Great Gatsby

I went to the cinema hoping to forget about my own scorched heart, I walked out musing on love and the illusion of it we fall into.

I suppose that is what distinguishes The Great Gatsby as a story.

To think the book was not considered a success when Fitzgerald first published it. If it can transcend time to reach a 21st century girl and keep her thinking for days, he must have written something right.

How I wish my own RS could have been a Gatsby.

One of the wide eyed hopefuls so loyal to his word and so fiercely in love he would have turned the world inside out for me. Built a house right opposite mine for the comfort of knowing I was a few miles away, threw parties just to entertain the smallest hope I might come wandering in.

Once more, I was surprised to find myself crying.

I didn’t even notice until a tear drop landed on the rim of my glasses during the movie. Daisy is walking around Gatsby’s mansion for the first time and he says something along the lines of “doesn’t she make everything more splendid?”

With that one line, I saw a new depth to RS leaving me. I did have a man, or maybe a boy, who offered me the most beautiful words of enduring love no matter how society threatened. I had the promise of affection as indefinite as Gatsby’s was for Daisy, one that would not be tarnished by absence should it ever come to us no longer being together.

Only.. My promise was a lie.

And just like Daisy would have never been able to live up to Gatsby’s perfect image of her, I eventually fell from the pedestal RS had me on. Sometimes I feel he loved me so much, he forgot to accept my flaws in the process. Some other times I feel maybe that’s a contradiction right there. Maybe loving someone means accepting how broken they are.

All the same, somewhere in my damaged soul I still hold on to a notion he poisoned me with. The thought that a heart,  his heart, can go on beating for me even though cultural rules already sunk their barbed wires into who we could have been.

That is what he spiked my life with, tales of unconditional love no distance, no separation could ever bend.

Yet, there he is. Him and Boobzella, Boobzella and him, and that ugly, ugly dog that I always hated and that she apparently loves.  All together. He carries on with his life. Mine splinters, diseased by romantic ideals only alive in a Fitzgerald novel.

So yes, I cried for my own naivety.

Foolish, foolish me.