If I were to describe the last couple of days, I don't think I could, really. There have been so many moments of ups and downs, tears and laughters, and through it all my friend has been there, to support me, hold me, make me feel loved and cared for. I kiss him, hug him, place my head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat... all the while, I hope I can give him, or at least make him feel that I give him, what he offers me, and more.
I'm not sure what our status is now, or whether there is a 'we' or 'us' to speak of. He had given me the time to think things through, to decide, but for a few days we've not really talked about things. Maybe it's good to keep it ambiguous. In a way, the last two years we have been having a de facto relationship, being in and out of one another's lives without ever being really committed to one another. In large part, it was me who withheld and held back. It was I who resisted all attempts, however earnest and heartfelt, by my friend to move on and get closer. And though the ambiguity has caused my friend a lot of hurt and pain, he has kept on waiting and hoping.
Is it time to formalise it all, to declare to the world, and most importantly, to ourselves, who we are and what we mean to one another? Is it time for me to take the plunge, and to open myself to another person in my life? Friends of mine seem to push me forward, to nudge me, nudge us together. And in truth, I know deep inside, I am tending toward that too, for I feel I may have finally found the person who is able to fulfil that void deep inside; who is able and willing to accept me and love me for who I am, with all my warts, insecurities and faults.
But in a way I'm afraid to bring the topic up, even though the time he has given me to think things through has elapsed. I'm afraid to bring the topic up, because throughout the last few weeks the question of 'us' and being together has caused much headache and sleepless nights for both of us. And in some ways, there are still lingering tensions and painful memories between us, mainly caused by my withholding and the closure of my heart to his advances in the last two years, that we need to work out and make clear before we can start anything. It is not an empty slate we are building on, if we should decide to move forward together.
Ironically, also because of the headaches and sleepless nights, the last few weeks has also brought us closer together than ever before. Just last night, we made another beautiful memory together when we officially for the first time went on a date. The sky was drifting with light snow, drifting with flakes that fell like silver confetti and glistened in the yellow glow of street lights. We trudged through the snow and made our way to a spa, where we relaxed and chatted in warm outdoor pools surrounded by a land covered with ice and white. The contrast of warm and cold was refreshing, the experience of being almost naked to one another in public was delightfully exciting (and at times downright naughty...). The night ended with such intense, warm and intimate moments in the bedroom, and I fell asleep next to him, my nostrils filled with his scent, and my arms absorbing the warmth of his soft, smooth body. It has been a long while since I woke up with a smile seeing someone next to me...
Yes, the last couple of days have been at times turbulent, yet tranquilled by the comfort and presence of my friend and the warmth and care he continues to give me. I'm not sure where we stand, where I stand now... I can only say that I thoroughly enjoy every moment being with him, being together, and long for many more of those precious moments to come.
11 December 2010
09 December 2010
Bursting
I don't know why I just suddenly burst into tears. I was writing an email to the monk I just spoke to an hour or so ago. I was reminded that it has been a year since his disciple passed away from severe illness.
I guess I wanted to write to the monk because I wanted to share my experience with death, my experience with the loss and longing of a loved one. I wanted to share, because I can only imagine how he is feeling around this time of the year. And I always believe that in sharing your story, you share part of the pain and sadness, and you can somehow, in however trivial a manner, lighten a fellow being's load.
I wanted to write to be strong for my friend, to encourage him to see the bright side of things, and the positive memories of his beloved disciple. I started writing about how I feel about the loss of my dad... the many things he did and sacrificed for my family and me, the many ways he showed his love in unspoken and indirect ways.... And then suddenly I just burst out crying.
Crying... crying. I wanted to be strong, but I am not strong, however much I would like to be and however much I would like to offer words of comfort and consolation to my friend. I'm in fact a mess inside, a mess that's crumbling and sensitive still to the slightest memory and reminder of the way things werer...
Even now as I type the tears are streaming down my face. I don't know why, I don't even know if it's sadness or pain that's causing me to cry... I just am crying, because maybe writing about dad and my feelings towards the third anniversary of his passing hit such a deep, hidden chord within me that is so raw and so sensitive. It didn't help that moments earlier, while on the phone with mum, she had mentioned some of the things that dad had left behind for my brother and me...
It suddenly feels so painful for some reason. I cannot explain it... I have suddenly this intense longing to see dad's face, to hear his voice, to be next to him and to know that he is well and happy in the hereafter...
Dad, I miss you so.....
I guess I wanted to write to the monk because I wanted to share my experience with death, my experience with the loss and longing of a loved one. I wanted to share, because I can only imagine how he is feeling around this time of the year. And I always believe that in sharing your story, you share part of the pain and sadness, and you can somehow, in however trivial a manner, lighten a fellow being's load.
I wanted to write to be strong for my friend, to encourage him to see the bright side of things, and the positive memories of his beloved disciple. I started writing about how I feel about the loss of my dad... the many things he did and sacrificed for my family and me, the many ways he showed his love in unspoken and indirect ways.... And then suddenly I just burst out crying.
Crying... crying. I wanted to be strong, but I am not strong, however much I would like to be and however much I would like to offer words of comfort and consolation to my friend. I'm in fact a mess inside, a mess that's crumbling and sensitive still to the slightest memory and reminder of the way things werer...
Even now as I type the tears are streaming down my face. I don't know why, I don't even know if it's sadness or pain that's causing me to cry... I just am crying, because maybe writing about dad and my feelings towards the third anniversary of his passing hit such a deep, hidden chord within me that is so raw and so sensitive. It didn't help that moments earlier, while on the phone with mum, she had mentioned some of the things that dad had left behind for my brother and me...
It suddenly feels so painful for some reason. I cannot explain it... I have suddenly this intense longing to see dad's face, to hear his voice, to be next to him and to know that he is well and happy in the hereafter...
Dad, I miss you so.....
This is the Dharma
Just spent some time talking with my Buddhist guide. It begun with me inviting him to the upcoming wedding of my brother, and like often the conversation turned to how I'm doing these days. It feels good to be able to share and talk about life with someone who is outside of my life, but at the same time still shares and cares much in my life.
Events in the last few weeks, I realise as I spoke to the monk, have been a roller coaster ride of emotions. Emotions of wanting, of not wanting... of longing, and of being afraid to loose something you would like to hold so dearly onto to. And all that wanting, all that not wanting combine to cause suffering. Sufferin from sleepless nights, from agitated moments of awakeness... suffering also caused by beautiful moments of such deep warmth and intimacy so overpowering that I wish not to stir from that dreamlike state of mind.
"You're lucky," the monk said to me, "You came to know the Dharma at such a young age". Lucky? I feel those feelings of suffering, of frustration, remorse, of longing, of desire, of wanting something/someone so bad that it all becomes such a blur and so confused. Lucky? Lucky perhaps because I know when I sit down to meditate at night, I can at least temporarily distance myself from things and hopefully experience a little insight that will allow me to remain calm and collected when I need it most. "Some of grow old and only realise the truth about Dharma and the way things are later in life," he said.
It is a rough path, I said. A rough and testing road to live and to experience all these conflicting emotions every moment of the day; emotions that are often aggravated by external influences beyond our control.
"Yes, it is rough," he said, comforting me, "But the metaphor is so right in that when you fall, you are still on the path and you have not strayed".
I guess I understand that there is truth in that, even though at moments in life the regret and remorse one feels is so strong and has the strong negative drain on your self-esteem and ability to cope. Sometimes when life gets too much, you must step back and take some time to collect yourself.
Events in the last few weeks, I realise as I spoke to the monk, have been a roller coaster ride of emotions. Emotions of wanting, of not wanting... of longing, and of being afraid to loose something you would like to hold so dearly onto to. And all that wanting, all that not wanting combine to cause suffering. Sufferin from sleepless nights, from agitated moments of awakeness... suffering also caused by beautiful moments of such deep warmth and intimacy so overpowering that I wish not to stir from that dreamlike state of mind.
"You're lucky," the monk said to me, "You came to know the Dharma at such a young age". Lucky? I feel those feelings of suffering, of frustration, remorse, of longing, of desire, of wanting something/someone so bad that it all becomes such a blur and so confused. Lucky? Lucky perhaps because I know when I sit down to meditate at night, I can at least temporarily distance myself from things and hopefully experience a little insight that will allow me to remain calm and collected when I need it most. "Some of grow old and only realise the truth about Dharma and the way things are later in life," he said.
It is a rough path, I said. A rough and testing road to live and to experience all these conflicting emotions every moment of the day; emotions that are often aggravated by external influences beyond our control.
"Yes, it is rough," he said, comforting me, "But the metaphor is so right in that when you fall, you are still on the path and you have not strayed".
I guess I understand that there is truth in that, even though at moments in life the regret and remorse one feels is so strong and has the strong negative drain on your self-esteem and ability to cope. Sometimes when life gets too much, you must step back and take some time to collect yourself.
Taking back
There are moments I sorely wish I could turn back time...
If I could just take back the things I said, undo the things I did, especially those words and things that hurt people I care about in my life.
I feel such deep remorse and pain at how much hurt I have caused people. It makes me wonder what it is that makes me so insensitive to the feelings of others. It makes me wonder what is it that makes me willingly or unwillingly cut people's hearts like a deep blunt knife. Do I do it on purpose? Do I do it with the express intention to hurt and with the sadistic will to see people become hurt? If I do, then why do I feel such deep, unbearable remorse and pain inside when I realise what I have done or said wrong?
And the worst thing is I'm not sure how I can rectify the situation... I can say a thousand sorry's and apologise profusely, but forever I feel it is not enough. Forever I feel deeply apologetic, and feel like I must go to lengths to try to make amends. This feeling is especially intense now after realising that I (have) hurt a boy who had all this time waited for me and craved my love and attention. Especially as words are harder and harsher than sticks and stones...
But the truth is I cannot turn back time. Who can turn back time? I wish I could... but simply cannot....
Response
It amazes me how people can over-react sometimes. I'm sure I do it too, especially when in the hit of an exchange when you are caught up in a situation. But I really cannot understand how someone can respond by being defensive and over-reactive when it is their job to be concerned about the welfare of students.
It's a long and somewhat complicated affair, which began last week when I wrote to the associate dean, the person at university who oversees the welfare and academic progress of students. It was a polite email, explaining the circumstances surrounding my mum's health, and how I'd like to take a leave of absence to spend some time with her. I requested to have an appointment with the associate dean, so I could discuss the very personal matter in person.
The response I received was from a secretary, and it was a short and impersonal reply informing me what I need to do to get approval for leave of absence. Whereas I had written to the associate dean about a personal matter, hoping for a reply and an appointment, not only did not get a personal reply, the personal matter had become a public one.
Somewhat dazed at the response, I wrote an email outlining my displeasure about how my case was treated. Sure, at points there were uses of sarcasm to express my displeasure, but I don't think at any point I was rude or accusatory.
Within a few hours, the associate dean who had not even bothered to write a short email to express her understanding of my situation, wrote a long email tearing about every single line of my complaint, and trying to justify why there was no response from her in the first place. No where in the email that outlined her position did she even touch upon the core of why I requested to see her in the first place. No where was there any expression of sympathy (though, that is not what I'm asking for, but any courteous person would know that that is what you offer when someone tells you what personal difficulties they are faced with...)
I'm lost as how I can respond. It does not help to write back with a defensive tone. Perhaps it's all a big miscommunication, especially as it was done through email, and with the involvement of a third party. But really, without wanting to sound like I need pity or wallowing in the problems of my mum's health, how can any person react so harshly and still justify it with everything they can think of to put themselves in the right?
It's a long and somewhat complicated affair, which began last week when I wrote to the associate dean, the person at university who oversees the welfare and academic progress of students. It was a polite email, explaining the circumstances surrounding my mum's health, and how I'd like to take a leave of absence to spend some time with her. I requested to have an appointment with the associate dean, so I could discuss the very personal matter in person.
The response I received was from a secretary, and it was a short and impersonal reply informing me what I need to do to get approval for leave of absence. Whereas I had written to the associate dean about a personal matter, hoping for a reply and an appointment, not only did not get a personal reply, the personal matter had become a public one.
Somewhat dazed at the response, I wrote an email outlining my displeasure about how my case was treated. Sure, at points there were uses of sarcasm to express my displeasure, but I don't think at any point I was rude or accusatory.
Within a few hours, the associate dean who had not even bothered to write a short email to express her understanding of my situation, wrote a long email tearing about every single line of my complaint, and trying to justify why there was no response from her in the first place. No where in the email that outlined her position did she even touch upon the core of why I requested to see her in the first place. No where was there any expression of sympathy (though, that is not what I'm asking for, but any courteous person would know that that is what you offer when someone tells you what personal difficulties they are faced with...)
I'm lost as how I can respond. It does not help to write back with a defensive tone. Perhaps it's all a big miscommunication, especially as it was done through email, and with the involvement of a third party. But really, without wanting to sound like I need pity or wallowing in the problems of my mum's health, how can any person react so harshly and still justify it with everything they can think of to put themselves in the right?
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