Walk Away

"Thank you". Those were her final words. The phrase that was accompanied by a painful freedom three months ago.

She inhaled deeply as she pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, her hands tucked comfortably inside her pocket. The air was filled with a vibrant scent. Golden blooms showing off their glory all around her. The daffodils were the pride and joy of Pembroke College's hard-working gardener. Spring was manifesting itself in the most beautiful way. There, in a distance, a boy pulls out some change in exchange for a mint-flavoured ice-cream. Passing the ice-cream to the other excited girl beside him, he held her face between his hands and gazed into her love-struck soul. The girl looked down shyly.

The last time she held his face between her hands was that evening. Often, it would be when he misplace something as important as his keys. 

"Hey, hey. Don't panic. You'll find it alright." His tense muscle relaxed beneath her gentle palms and he sighed. This calm-down tactic works all the time with the kids she taught. She never thought that her classroom skills can be applied outside and on adults too. He was never a boy. From the first time she met him to the time she knew of his inmost secrets, he was always a man to her. Courageous, resilient and decisive. Three words she would use to sum him up until she told him of the plan. 

"So. when will you..." His voice faded as he allowed his thoughts to escape. After four years, she knew that thoughts rarely escape with him. 

"Next month"

She saw his grip tightened on the edge of the wooden bench they were sitting on as the sun sets. His eyes fixed on the moist green grass beneath their feet. She waited for his response but all she could hear was the sound of her heart playing to the mixed symphony of feelings. Perhaps this time round things would be different. When he finally exclaimed "Great! You'll do great like you always do!",  the symphony died down and there was a deep, familiar grieving silence. And then she heard her own logic screaming at her. The same message it shouted the first time he made his feelings known to her; the hour he told her of her value and worth and what an undeserving creature he is; the minute he uttered, "But I am not ready yet". The moment she realised he was not going to fight for her. It was clear: Walk away. 

She cupped his face between her hands, looked into his brown eyes and saw the fire in his soul dimmed. She smiled. 

 Akin to the moment two years ago, "Thank you," she said. And this time, she walked away. 

This Must Be Love.

She decided to finally write about him because these days if he comes to mind, emotions flow gently and almost stagnant-like, similar to the waters at the downstream of a river. No rapid courses of the upstream. The first encounter was as nonchalant as the downstream phase. She was told of his presence and she firmly decided to ignore. She have heard bits and pieces of his life, saw him once or twice but his face never really imprinted on her memory. He is one of them, let's just dismiss him, shall we? Yes, we shall. That was what she thought and she maintained this notion when they shook hands for the first time;  when they held mini conversations all throughout; when she caught glimpses of him unconsciously doing the right things away from the crowd's watchful eyes. And when this judgement she passed upon him starts to waver, she panicked. She realised that dismissal has turned into attraction. For a month or two, irrational euphoric emotions ruled her life, reliving those teenage years with endless amount of background checks and stalking. The goal was to draw his attention and finally have him. She does everything in power. This must be love. She cannot get him off her mind. This must be love. She sees a bright future together.  This must be love. Everything points to him. Everything connects. This must be love. She must wait patiently. It took effort, courage, prayers. It hurts. This, really, must be love. How foolish! How foolish of her to be blinded by her very own whims and fancies. The wait lasted without any reciprocation and the once strong firework of emotions begin to fizzle out. With the self -inflicted bruises on her mind, she decided to give up the pointless, overwhelming pursuit. Time to move on. Pull herself together and find herself.

Then, their paths crossed once again.  The heavy downpour that evening, a serendipity. While waiting for the storm to pass, conversation ensued. Just her and him. Almost like a scene from Nicholas Spark's novel. For the first time, they talked. She find him far from who she imagined him to be. Starkly different from the one she was intially attracted to. More time were spent together, more stories were exchanged. This time round, she did not allow herself to be washed away by fast-flowing emotions. She would not go for him. She would find her true self, be her true self and let him find her if it is meant to be.  And she learnt of his fear, his weakness, his beliefs and views. She saw him as a human person and not the perfect knight formed and shaped by her emotions and preferences. She was no longer attracted to him. Instead, she respected him. She respected him for his non-bias perspectives; for his steadfast decisions; for his firm beliefs and dreams; it astounded her, how he was anything but fickle-minded. Such assurance. He made her view the world differently. Somehow, he inspired her to be better. The goal shifted. She didn't need his attention. She didn't want to own him. She didn't want anything but what was supposed to be. She wishes him all the happiness in the world regardless of whether fate will bring them together or when he finally tells her he found his other half and it isn't her. She decided to finally write about him because devoid of the exhilarating emotions, in the stillness of her heart and mind, she learnt to love.

For the Sake of Self

I first read the story of "The Little Prince" when I was 14. Now, 9 years later, I still remember my favourite part of the book: The child narrator drew a boa constrictor swallowing an elephant and when he showed his artwork to adults they would interpret it as a hat. They never saw his giant snake neither did he understood the reason for their interpretations. With the little literature knowledge I have, I decided on my own accord that it's theme is realising your dreams and achieving them. Personally, I thought that the book is deep and carries much symbolism. Often I wonder why is it Children's literature when it would speak volume to adults.

Anyhow, the boa constrictor drawing led me to believe that I should never lose the inner child in me. My fourteen-year-old self made a promise to my future self that I will always do things that I believe in; I will not stop believing in my dreams no matter what other people think of them - specifically what the clever adults in my life thought.

I gave up my dream of being a writer after internship and doing my project work last year. These string of experiences were evidence that writing is not my forte. Unless I am to write about my life and emotions. I've learnt to embrace my strength: building rapports and dealing face-to-face with people. That was when I decided to leave this blog to die. What is the point anyway, right? I am too busy as well. 

Until recently. When a friend encouraged me to continue writing. "You could still write. For yourself. For emotional therapy." Simultaneously, the words of a beloved lecturer echoed in a distance, "Maybe you can have a column for yourself someday".

Writing this piece, I realised, is more than just reviving a blog. It is an act of daring to dream again. It is fulfilling the vow I made when I was 14.  I have forgotten how long since I have defended my own boa constrictor drawing. It seems like I have succumb to the opinion of things and those around me. My drawing has become a mere hat.

I am not saying that my life has turned into a mundane, restricted journey. Please do me a favour and be rid of the impression that I am being controlled or have lost controlled over my own life. It just dawned upon me that I have not dared to dream for myself for a long time.

By 'dream', I do not mean mere imagination; it is something I believe in and something I do for myself. Lately, my decisions and actions have always been for the good of all (at least, I think so).  There were so many 'yes' I gave when the heart was screaming 'no' and vice versa. This is what mature adults do, don't they? They put themselves aside. Even at the expense of their own dream? Perhaps. 

Frankly, it is getting a little tiring. Since when did fighting for your own dream became a selfish crime? 

I desire so ardently to do things for myself again. To decide for myself once more.  Like writing. So what if I am not going to be on the list of best-selling authors? So what if I will never live of my writing? I am not doing it for fame or wealth or for anyone else. I write for me.

I am aware that there are roads which I have to take out of love and responsibility. I will not shun reality. However, it does not mean that I cannot tread these paths without allowing the inner child in me to live. The inner child who will defend her dream and do the things she believe in regardless of what other people say or think.

I shall strive to live my dreams: To be ordinarily great. To own a personal library. To travel and experience the world. To invest in things that I value even if there will be no returns.To never settle for mediocre. To never extinguish that passion for the things I believe in.

Ready For Love?

It has been a long time since I last updated my blog. That explains my current lack of creativity and worsening syntactical skills, I believe. When I first started my blog, it was never meant to be religious or "preachy/ preaching" or whatever one may label it. It was simply a space to pour out my thoughts and allow me some free emotional therapy. Tonight, I decided to post this partly because I need to practice my writing skills and partly to share my strong view on a topic I have grown accustomed to, while striving to practice: Chastity.

I spent almost my whole day (besides helping out in the kitchen and the afternoon siesta!) accompanying my grandmother in front of the television. I do not really watch television any more these days apart from watching Chelsea playing live on screen. We were browsing through the channels and I found this new series on Diva called Ready for Love. The title sounds intriguing so I told my grandma to skip her usual Chinese drama to watch this. Barely thirty minutes into the series, I squirmed in my seat feeling utterly uneasy and uncomfortable. No, I was not put off by the sex scenes or the violent gore. In fact, I saw none of that.

The reality show was about three rich, good-looking and successful bachelors who are looking for a serious relationship- a woman they can and want to marry, a wife. Well, that is something interesting, taking into account how the selfish world today portrays marriage as an unnecessary troublesome commitment. The three bachelors would have to choose one girl at the end of the day and these beautiful, smart and equally successful young girls are competing furiously against each other to gain and sustain the attention of the bachelors. Three 'matchmakers' provide the girls with so-called wise and helpful advices on how to do so.

One beautiful girl was deemed perfect because she has much self-control and she choose to save it before marriage (not just sex but anything that could lead to sex). In other words, she wants to be chaste. A disappointing advice she got from her matchmaker is that she needs to loosen up; to let herself free and be bold because she was controlling and restraining herself too much. She needs to do something bold in order to take the relationship one step further. Prove that you want him, you want to be here. She did. By giving her first kiss to him, promising him that her kiss is perfect. He was, of course, taken aback, delighted and could not wait for the next kiss. She told herself that the matchmaker would be proud of her. Both the bachelor and the girl barely knew each other. They went on dates a couple of times, each lasting less than a few hours. I bet she does not even know where he graduated from. Not that it matters but the point is they are mere acquaintance!  After this scene, I switched to another channel. I just cannot bear to watch it any longer. 

If I need to sustain a man's attention by giving in to lust then he is definitely not worth it. If I want to marry a man, I want a husband who fights for me. Not the other way round. If I were to attract a man, I would attract him with my heart, because that would keep him. If I were to give something of myself away (my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my body), that someone has to earn it and earn it so well so as to be called my husband. At one point, the bachelor keeps reiterating, "You appear to be so perfect, I just need to know one of your flaws to connect with you". She answered, "I am not perfect".  He pushes her to drop her guard. The one thing he fails to see is he has to earn it. She is definitely NOT perfect but to uncover your faults to someone, you need to trust that someone. To be more than just acquaintance. It takes time. 

I am shaken and sickened by the whole show. The matchmakers were there to spice things up, fuel the scandal; making these uniquely gorgeous women fight among themselves and do whatever it takes to win the heart of the bachelors. The whole show serves as a perfect weapon of destroying their self-worth. They start comparing themselves with another, plotting cunning ploys to gain his attention, cultivating envy towards the other contestants and fighting to win the ultimate 'prize'. Love becomes a game. Human beings become objects that can be won and bought in a sense. Every soul will end up feeling used and empty, physically and emotionally. Human value is degraded so low as to be an equal of a 'thing'- a piece on a chessboard. What happened to true love? What happened to true dating and courtship?

This is warp. I am better off watching Princess Sophia cartoon. Fantasy but still better than this. 

Streɪndʒə

I thought hard about things for a long time. Then I came to this realization. I can go always go back to where I first begun. Always.

If I can overlook you, not even remembering your face. Despite our few meets and the fact that the rest are pointing you out, I truly only notice your name because it has been said over and over again among the rest.

If I told myself that there would be no solid chance that we would hold a good conversation. I would not want to waste my time.

If I stereotyped you as typical like the rest of your bunch just by looking at the way you act and by what others told me (Unfair of me, I know). You were just another typical which is not at all, appealing.

If I told myself that first time we met that I would never initiate anything to make friends. Never. If you remember clearly, initiation was your part.

Yesterday someone pointed out, maybe its all a game. Maybe its all about ego and challenge. Then I thought:

If I did all that, what makes you think that I cannot possibly go back to where it all first began? I began with disgust at your typical attitude (which I am still convinced that you are). And, I began without the slightest interest. In fact, there was none. Nothing. At all. I could always go back. Always.

So, I did. Today, I looked straight into your soul, held that gaze and smile. A friendly gesture I give to strangers. Strangers. I quit playing games a long, long time ago and I would not I want to be involved in any. I am always usually truly sincere until someone takes thing for granted and put it all simply as a game.

Stranger (Oxford Dictionary)

• a person whom one does not know or with whom one is not familiar

Therefore, a stranger. That is what you were to me and will be to me from now on and strangers we shall remain.

If I Die Young

My best friend told me someone we saw last month passed away not too long ago and I thought I would produce this piece while listening to "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry. The thought of how short life is got me thinking and writing. An ironical piece for the first day of Chinese New Year.

If I am called tomorrow,
I just want you to know that you will be fine without me.
You have been through so much I know you are so much stronger, so much more independent now.
Sometimes it seems unfair for you but I know you are called for something great.
You still have so much to learn, so much to discover from the world; So remain close to the Lord.
Be rational; do not follow your emotions and know that family will always back you up no matter what happens.

If I am called tomorrow,
I just want you to know that I am sorry I could not travel the world with you and realised much of our dreams that we planned together.
Be confident because you are beautiful. It takes a little bit of time and a little faith to see what is in store for you.
You must know that there is something very special about you, something that is already there but you just can't see yet.
I see it and thank God for you in my life.

If I am called tomorrow,
I just want you to know I do not know how come I still included you guys here.
Perhaps because I do care about you guys.
I need you to know that once upon a time my self worth was deeply wounded by your treatment.
You apologised. Explained. And I accepted every word.
I am sorry I created the distance between us and drifted apart. I still have bits of insecurities every time I am around you so avoiding is the best way.
Thank you all the same for making me stronger.
Take care, guys.
Know that you guys are still dear to me.
I hope you realized by now how much I am worth.

If I am called tomorrow,
I just want you to know that all of you are the ones who made my life so beautiful.
Thank you for showing me and assuring me that I am worth more than I think I was.
Thank you for making me smile and laugh when misery was a tidal wave trying to drown me. Thank you for believing in me.
How could I make it through without all of you.

If I am called tomorrow,
I just want you to know that I prayed about us.
I was pretty confident about you and me.
I was waiting.
And I did hope.
At least now I know it is not meant to be.
I wish you every happiness.

If I am called tomorrow,
I know I am loved.
I know I loved.
I am reluctant but I'll go.
I hope I have done my part well.

Very much appreciated, thank you!

I was halfway through my post when I decided to delete everything I have written for the past hour and start writing again. You see the past four weeks has taught me a lot. There were a few fond memories and extraordinary moments which I will never forget. If there was one big thing that was special and worth highlighting, it would be the different outlook I choose to adopt. After being plagued with endless wave of emotions, I realized that all the insecurities, self- pitying and restlessness must be dealt with.There was this issue of being cared about, being appreciated, being respected. I needed to look at this soul through my Lover's eyes once more and continue to do so for the rest of my life. I needed to remove that distorted image I had and stop blaming Him for all the storms and choppy waters. So, I did that and I try to do so whenever possible now. Focus on the bright side and be positive. Now, now, for those all around. This is dedicated to both, those who lack appreciation:

You were probably the one I am most comfortable with and I enjoy being around you. Laughter is a never-failing ingredient in all our conversations. I just wish that you would appreciate a bit more and care a bit more. You were my priority but I know I had to distance myself because the question of self worth always pop up whenever I am around you. It did not help that my head was filled with the thought of pretty princess in my shoes that every moment, she would be treated very, very differently. Oh, no! Don't get me wrong. This ranting is not like before demanding you to be more sensitive to my needs. No, I have come to realization that it is not your fault entirely. I have come to accept the fact that I cannot force you to appreciate me. Someone brought up the issue of protection to me the other day and my heart went, "They protect me? No, thanks. They have taught me that I need to protect myself. So I have learnt to count on myself a long time ago. They do not need to be burdened with the responsibility of protecting me." I realized that if I love being around all of you and want to continue doing so, I need to stop all this thinking and feeling about appreciation and care. I need to truly know my worth and be grounded in the truth that I am special and that I am loved. I may not be your priority. You may doubt my capabilities as a dancer, as a proper girl. You may not chose to accompany me all the way back for certain reasons. But I know who I am. I'll put everything behind me and now, any gentle offers to assist me in any way unless for official purposes, I gently decline because you have made me Miss Independent. This is to all of you who once lack appreciation but I somehow know and hope that somewhere deep down, you still care and appreciates. May our relationship last forever :)

And those who appreciated right from the start:

You and I did not have much of a rapport but only at the start. No doubt, I feel closer to those on the other side. I still feel that and always will. You were the one who brighten up my day and restrain me from wallowing in the deep pool of sorrow and drench me with the positive juice. I may not have survived the waves of emotions without all of you. You were indeed His blessings to me. I will never forget how much you cheer me up with that simple gesture of treating me like a proper girl. You were not hesitant and need not to be told when you offered a hand or when you were trying to protect me from being burdened if the situation allows you to do so. The encouragement and the trust you gave me when I sorely needed one were simply unforgettable. I will never forget the moments when we worked together. Those moments were so fond I still smile every time I think of it. That was exactly what I needed. You helped me. You did not choose to sit and not lift a finger. Neither did you choose to do everything for fear that I am not able to do it. I may not need your help but I am more than happy you did. You may say, "I am simply doing it because that was what I am supposed to do". Maybe. You have carried out your responsibility very well then. You care and appreciate. You showed you did. This is for all those who appreciate and care was not afraid to do so. I am forever grateful to all of you. Thank you! May we never forget to show how much we care and appreciate one another :)