Wow, it's been a long, long time since I've written here. I guess I might as well, since literally, no one remembers this blog.
The other day, in my usual way, I was craving for Hainanese Chicken, and thought it wise to bring along my current managee (is that a word?), and we shall heretofore start calling her Watson (cos it's my blog and I'll effin' play Sherlockif i want). Now she, as a background, was very recently engaged. She's been with her ex-fiance (you know where this shit is going) for a decade and he chickened out in the 11th hour citing the most obvious BS answer in the world for not marrying her - he ain't ready.
Now, obviously, I am clueless to the Tartarus-like trappings of a person's mind, and what truly happened is beyond what I can presume. Perhaps it was a spat, a bad habit she has, a rather impossible quirk, a detonating time bomb, his inability to finance her lifestyle - it's a plethora of reasons no one has the power to ascertain except the two people involved. I have no power, authority nor need to know. I know just one thing, that love when it turns sour, stinks and hurts and maims and kills... And shatters you from the inside out.
I then shared my story. A story long hidden in the recesses of my brain. I know that if I can't share it, then I wouldn't have done my job, right?
My ex, like any other man, wasn't ready. Was it his fault? Maybe. But I had my fair share of silly expectations - that he was going to love me, and cherish me, and grow old with me. I believed and hoped that nothing was going to come between us. I trusted that love was enough to carry us day in and day out in this miserable, torturous world, and that I can stop searching for that man who will make me happy. I was wrong. Something came between us. He was not the one to make me happy. What hurts more, despite all that,was that I, the one whom he once called 'the love of his life', was not able to make him happy.
She told me that her pain deeply stems from her investment in the relationship, and how despite years, it didn't work out. Let's face it. It's not the time that kills. It's the fact that from the moment you said goodbye, that tie was severed. He now, lives a life unbeknownst to you, and no matter how shitty his bedsheets are, you can't yell and scream and say he needs to change it now. It's the fact that even if he's gaining weight, you can't control the portions. It's the fact that there is no one to smile at you when you're getting emotional. It's the fact that his arms won't hold you tight as they used to. It's the fact that no matter, how cliche it is, you are now living a life separate from him. He is now master of his own fate, and you are but a lonely dot, or a number, in his list of conquests. It is because all of these things are becoming apparent... You are not allowed to talk, with the same daunting familiarity as you used to, when double entrendes are not allowed, because it is not proper, and when a smile can't mean more.
In essence, what I'm saying is let go. He deserves his chance at life, as do you. If someone makes him happy, let him live out the rest of it with happiness. If you find something that makes you happy, then live with it. And if not, then learn again to live with your life one god-awful day at a time. What people don't tell you is that it never gets any better. You soon learn that nothing (and I mean NOTHING) can let you forgive yourself. You feel empty, drained, lifeless because he took it away -happiness, dreams, ambitions, sometimes, even memories... All you have is you. So stand up, pick the pieces up, and move forward.
The other day, in my usual way, I was craving for Hainanese Chicken, and thought it wise to bring along my current managee (is that a word?), and we shall heretofore start calling her Watson (cos it's my blog and I'll effin' play Sherlockif i want). Now she, as a background, was very recently engaged. She's been with her ex-fiance (you know where this shit is going) for a decade and he chickened out in the 11th hour citing the most obvious BS answer in the world for not marrying her - he ain't ready.
Now, obviously, I am clueless to the Tartarus-like trappings of a person's mind, and what truly happened is beyond what I can presume. Perhaps it was a spat, a bad habit she has, a rather impossible quirk, a detonating time bomb, his inability to finance her lifestyle - it's a plethora of reasons no one has the power to ascertain except the two people involved. I have no power, authority nor need to know. I know just one thing, that love when it turns sour, stinks and hurts and maims and kills... And shatters you from the inside out.
I then shared my story. A story long hidden in the recesses of my brain. I know that if I can't share it, then I wouldn't have done my job, right?
My ex, like any other man, wasn't ready. Was it his fault? Maybe. But I had my fair share of silly expectations - that he was going to love me, and cherish me, and grow old with me. I believed and hoped that nothing was going to come between us. I trusted that love was enough to carry us day in and day out in this miserable, torturous world, and that I can stop searching for that man who will make me happy. I was wrong. Something came between us. He was not the one to make me happy. What hurts more, despite all that,was that I, the one whom he once called 'the love of his life', was not able to make him happy.
She told me that her pain deeply stems from her investment in the relationship, and how despite years, it didn't work out. Let's face it. It's not the time that kills. It's the fact that from the moment you said goodbye, that tie was severed. He now, lives a life unbeknownst to you, and no matter how shitty his bedsheets are, you can't yell and scream and say he needs to change it now. It's the fact that even if he's gaining weight, you can't control the portions. It's the fact that there is no one to smile at you when you're getting emotional. It's the fact that his arms won't hold you tight as they used to. It's the fact that no matter, how cliche it is, you are now living a life separate from him. He is now master of his own fate, and you are but a lonely dot, or a number, in his list of conquests. It is because all of these things are becoming apparent... You are not allowed to talk, with the same daunting familiarity as you used to, when double entrendes are not allowed, because it is not proper, and when a smile can't mean more.
In essence, what I'm saying is let go. He deserves his chance at life, as do you. If someone makes him happy, let him live out the rest of it with happiness. If you find something that makes you happy, then live with it. And if not, then learn again to live with your life one god-awful day at a time. What people don't tell you is that it never gets any better. You soon learn that nothing (and I mean NOTHING) can let you forgive yourself. You feel empty, drained, lifeless because he took it away -happiness, dreams, ambitions, sometimes, even memories... All you have is you. So stand up, pick the pieces up, and move forward.
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