Welcome!: The Ex-Factor

Monday, 13 August 2007

The Ex-Factor

There's a reason why it's called ex. If you look at the dictionary, ex means after the fact, and its synonyms can be varied from done afterward, late, subsequent, to postliminary. But they all mean the same, they are all in the past. It's after, it's post! It shouldn't be wandering around in the street and messing your present, should it?

When I imagine myself seeing him again,...wait, I never imagined seeing him again, because I don't want to, and there will be no meeting, not now, not tomorrow, try, not ever! Everything should be just left buried in the past! In the past, okay! That is why he's an ex! Ex-whatever.

But one scenario I would never have pictured in my mind, was meeting him in the fucking train station! Yes, I bumped into him in the fucking train station! Somebody please shoot me!

If only! If only I saw him first! If only I caught him on the corner of my eyes! If only I...I...! I WOULD HAVE HID! I WOULD HAVE RAN! I would have...done something, anything! Yes, I was that much of a coward.

Was it some kind of joke that I was in the elevator on this side, and he was in the elevator on the opposite side, and we got to the ground at the same time?!!!! I looked at him and he looked at me, and there was no escape! No fire stairs! No trees or bodies I could hide myself behind! Not even a freaking wall! There was nothing between us, just vast empty area mocking me!

And so I smiled. And so I came up to him and we hugged. And so we muttered 'how are you' and so we walked out together. And so he asked the most dreaded questions, "Do you still even have my number in your phone? Why didn't you ever call me? If I texted you, would you have replied?" Yes, OF COURSE he had to ask those questions. And up until that second, I WAS PRETTY MUCH READY TO FORGET EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED WITH HIM! I HAD A PEACE WITH MYSELF NOT TO FEEL GUILTY, TO THINK THAT HE WAS OUT SOMEWHERE, HAVING A NICE LIFE AND FORGETTING ME, I WAS REALLY REALLY READY TO CLOSE THAT CHAPTER AND OF COURSE, NOW I HAD TO BE BOMBARDED BY THE PAST ALL OVER AGAIN. AND OF COURSE I HAD TO GIVE HIM ANSWERS, I HAD TO EXPLAIN MYSELF WHY I DID WHAT I DID, AND WHY I WASN'T BEING FAIR TO HIM.

See what I'm saying before? He is the past, and past means past! Behind! Forgotten! Time to move on! The past shouldn't be asking questions to you in present! The past shouldn't smile at you, hug you and ask you to catch up! No, it shouldn't!

I thought I will never see him again, and tada! Singapore has be too small for two awkward individuals! They just had to meet, didn't they?! There just aren't any space left, are there?!

Long story short, we talked. No, more like, he asked, and I looked at him hopelessly. Distracting him and asking him unimportant questions (where do you stay now? Oh, where are you going now? How are you getting along in Singapore? Do you still bring maps anywhere? How's work?) You know, just to divert his attention from the dreaded topic! But by the time we got out from the station, I couldn't think of any other craps to say, so then he asked.

And I think I did pretty well, gracefully, at least! I don't know! What did I say to him?! I couldn't remember! I remember him saying 'as long as you're not married and having kids, and as long as I'm not married and having kids, why should you feel bad about it?' or something like that. THIS ISN'T JUST ABOUT ME BEING SINGLE AND YOU BEING SINGLE SO LET'S JUST HOOK UP AND HOLD HANDS!

Finally, we departed, and he said we should catch up sometime, and soon after, he sent me a text message and right there and then I knew. That he's slowly becoming a present again. And I'm not sure I like that very much.

I know, I know, he can't make me do things I don't want to do, and so if I don't wanna meet him again, then don't. Easy, right? Well technically it is, but sometimes I'm way too nice for things like this! And that is why everything was slowly getting better cos I've managed to forget about why I left him and I didn't really think much about feeling guilty or bad anymore. But now that he's here I don't know if I can do that again. Now I feel like I owe him something. And I don't want to feel like that!

It's funny because just a few days ago, babe and I talked about this and she even speculated that maybe he's not even in Singapore anymore. Yeah, so much for that hope! Oh, he is still in Singapore, alive and kicking. Looking exactly the same. The accent was still the same. I used to love that accent, and now I just feel nothing. I felt a pang of relief that at least I was looking good yesterday! I mean, I wasn't wearing shorts and slipper or whatever. At least.

He said, "When I imagine meeting you again, I wouldn't be wearing this. I would be wearing something nice..", truth is, he was wearing a shirt, okay! With collars! How nice can a shirt be?!

Today he hasn't texted me, will it be too much to ask, too much of an impossible expectation, that he may not look for me again?!!! That he, too, decided everything should just be left behind?

1 comment:

cotton candy said...: was browsing around when i found your blog and read your latest post. you write really well and ah...a love life! ^^ lucky girl. and im so proud of you, you didn't stutter of stumble upon your words. if it was me..i'd fall flat on my face and make a fool of myself...eek. ><" lol.; 13 August 2007 at 17:47

Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.