Through a friend I met a couple. A very cute and seemingly compatible couple. It was only today I found out that they were on their 'honeymoon', as they got 'married' (partnered) recently.
I chatted with them, about how they met, how they've been together for over two years, and one day it just dawned on them to get officially 'married'. I guess there comes a point when you realise: this is the one, this is the one I can picture myself being with all my life.
They admitted it's because there are economic benefits, especially since they were already living together. But there are other, more important issues, like visitation rights should someone fall ill and be hospitalized, rights to insurance payout should one be maimed or pass away; all the rights and privileges a legally sanctioned relationship enjoy.
Seeing them so happy together, touching and caressing one another, kissing passionately in public made me envious. It's so beautiful, yet at the same time hard to watch, because it just reminds me of what I so long for, but have difficulty finding, or keeping. That closeness, that intimacy, that trust, that understanding and that meeting of two minds to want to spend the rest of our lives together, no matter what.
It's so beautiful, so hard to find, and so precious to keep and treasure.
30 July 2011
28 July 2011
friend's child
We met at the beginning of the last year of my studies in london. Because of number of personality traits and life experiences, we became very close, and thanks to him those final days of my studies felt less lonely.
Over the years, though I've moved away, we kept in touch, and I followed news of how he met his wife, how they fell in love and eventually got married. I had the honour of being his best man, but I could not go at the time as I had just started a degree.
Fast forward a few years, six months or so ago, they had their first child together. A beautiful baby of mixed origin, with pale skin and fine oriental features. Everytime I see the pictures of his son, I could feel how proud he was, and how loving the family is.
But behind the scenes, the child has suffered several epilepsy attacks and been in and out of hospital numerous times. I did what little I could, leave him messages of encouragement and hope, send them my well wishes when I meditated.
Today, my friend's profile status stated that the baby stopped breathing numerous time, and may not survive...
A sense of shock and sadness overcame me, but my thoughts turned to my friend and his wife... What they must be feeling...? The depths of worry, agony, hurt and forlorn must be unbearable. And all that my friend has gone through in life, yet another painful and difficult hurdle for him to overcome.
My thoughts are with you, my friend...
Over the years, though I've moved away, we kept in touch, and I followed news of how he met his wife, how they fell in love and eventually got married. I had the honour of being his best man, but I could not go at the time as I had just started a degree.
Fast forward a few years, six months or so ago, they had their first child together. A beautiful baby of mixed origin, with pale skin and fine oriental features. Everytime I see the pictures of his son, I could feel how proud he was, and how loving the family is.
But behind the scenes, the child has suffered several epilepsy attacks and been in and out of hospital numerous times. I did what little I could, leave him messages of encouragement and hope, send them my well wishes when I meditated.
Today, my friend's profile status stated that the baby stopped breathing numerous time, and may not survive...
A sense of shock and sadness overcame me, but my thoughts turned to my friend and his wife... What they must be feeling...? The depths of worry, agony, hurt and forlorn must be unbearable. And all that my friend has gone through in life, yet another painful and difficult hurdle for him to overcome.
My thoughts are with you, my friend...
Schubert d-minor D 810
Slow, troubled, holding back, and then unleashing the build up of it all...
Beautiful.
Beautiful.
27 July 2011
Life and death
A friend just wrote to me, pouring her heart about about the latest loss of a loved one. Just over two months ago, she had lost her mother, and now, another person dear in her life passed away.
She wrote to me, expressing much fear and confusion in her mind. At the end of it all, she apologised for bothering me with her dark thoughts and news, but I thought nothing of it.
I spent the entire evening writing back to her, hoping that she could find some solace in my words. I wished there was much more I could do, but being so far away, all I could do was 'listen' and write back, encouraging her to live on, to move on and continue with life, however painful and difficult it may be.
She expressed to me how deep the loneliness feels of losing a dear one. I wrote back, consoling her, telling her, perhaps in the cliche way, that it is all natural, that when there is life, there is death, and that feelings will pass. But deep down, I questioned myself as I was writing... I can write all this to console a friend in need, can I really console myself when the moment comes when I have to deal with loss?
Have I really felt that depth of loneliness, that sense of despair you don't want to live anymore because you have lost all the motherly comfort and security you have known and gotten used to before...? Am I prepared for it? And who can I turn to really, who can I really feel comfortable confiding in and not feel awkward about burdening?
I could write so beautifully, perhaps even so poetically, about dealing with death and about trying to move on.... but deep inside, I felt and heard the word "hypocrite" echoing... What do I really know about death? Perhaps I have forgotten already, since it has already been over three years since dad passed away. And dealing with mum's illness, even though it is facing death, is not really death itself. Am I really all that experienced and immune to the pain? Will I not feel the same sense of loss and being lost when it happens to me next? And can I really cope on my own?
I don't know... but however much I care for my friend and however much I am concerned about her wellbeing, these questions make me feel like an impostor and a fake.
She wrote to me, expressing much fear and confusion in her mind. At the end of it all, she apologised for bothering me with her dark thoughts and news, but I thought nothing of it.
I spent the entire evening writing back to her, hoping that she could find some solace in my words. I wished there was much more I could do, but being so far away, all I could do was 'listen' and write back, encouraging her to live on, to move on and continue with life, however painful and difficult it may be.
She expressed to me how deep the loneliness feels of losing a dear one. I wrote back, consoling her, telling her, perhaps in the cliche way, that it is all natural, that when there is life, there is death, and that feelings will pass. But deep down, I questioned myself as I was writing... I can write all this to console a friend in need, can I really console myself when the moment comes when I have to deal with loss?
Have I really felt that depth of loneliness, that sense of despair you don't want to live anymore because you have lost all the motherly comfort and security you have known and gotten used to before...? Am I prepared for it? And who can I turn to really, who can I really feel comfortable confiding in and not feel awkward about burdening?
I could write so beautifully, perhaps even so poetically, about dealing with death and about trying to move on.... but deep inside, I felt and heard the word "hypocrite" echoing... What do I really know about death? Perhaps I have forgotten already, since it has already been over three years since dad passed away. And dealing with mum's illness, even though it is facing death, is not really death itself. Am I really all that experienced and immune to the pain? Will I not feel the same sense of loss and being lost when it happens to me next? And can I really cope on my own?
I don't know... but however much I care for my friend and however much I am concerned about her wellbeing, these questions make me feel like an impostor and a fake.
26 July 2011
Will
I don't know how we got onto the topic, but out of nowhere my friends brought up the topic of writing a will. It sounds silly, especially at this age, and as I've not got much to give away should anything happen to me. But perhaps it's not really silly after all, and in fact I've thought about it somewhat over the past few years, especially since dad passed away and as mum's health has declined.
I wouldn't know what I would leave behind to the world. All the worldly possessions and whatever is in my money I could give to charity... perhaps some dear friend would get a treasured item or two. But for the rest, at least so far, I have not left much on this world except the impressions on the lives of people who have come into my life. Perhaps that is my legacy.... I try, and keep on trying, to make people dear in my life feel valued and special, cared for and important. And no where is that more clear in the way I treat my own mother. And I know, or at least I feel, I am capable of doing that to others who have a place in my heart.
The conversation moved onto investments and life policies. Someone said it was not important for gays to have those, especially if we don't have children. More important is to have some kind of disability insurance in case something happens, so that you can at least be independent. Put it crudely, chances are you will be single and there will be no one really to take care of you.
Hearing that make me think and become somewhat apprehensive. Of course that is all speculative and one never knows what will happen... but it may be true, especially being alone and single that it will be harder for me to depend on any kind of safety structure should anything like an illness or disability occur to me. Most people would have families to fall back on, a spouse or children to provide moral and emotional support. But if I am to be single then really I need to think of contingency plans and ways to safeguard my own future.
It all sounds and feels very abstract and premature, I know. But really, when I am reminded of the prospect of being single and having no offspring, then a sort of alarm goes off deep inside.
I wouldn't know what I would leave behind to the world. All the worldly possessions and whatever is in my money I could give to charity... perhaps some dear friend would get a treasured item or two. But for the rest, at least so far, I have not left much on this world except the impressions on the lives of people who have come into my life. Perhaps that is my legacy.... I try, and keep on trying, to make people dear in my life feel valued and special, cared for and important. And no where is that more clear in the way I treat my own mother. And I know, or at least I feel, I am capable of doing that to others who have a place in my heart.
The conversation moved onto investments and life policies. Someone said it was not important for gays to have those, especially if we don't have children. More important is to have some kind of disability insurance in case something happens, so that you can at least be independent. Put it crudely, chances are you will be single and there will be no one really to take care of you.
Hearing that make me think and become somewhat apprehensive. Of course that is all speculative and one never knows what will happen... but it may be true, especially being alone and single that it will be harder for me to depend on any kind of safety structure should anything like an illness or disability occur to me. Most people would have families to fall back on, a spouse or children to provide moral and emotional support. But if I am to be single then really I need to think of contingency plans and ways to safeguard my own future.
It all sounds and feels very abstract and premature, I know. But really, when I am reminded of the prospect of being single and having no offspring, then a sort of alarm goes off deep inside.
Realisations
Too gullible, my friend was basically telling me. Too gullible and easily swayed by flattery and a bit of soft words and touching, and my heart weakens. In the long run, do I benefit from it? It's a question that has been put back at me by various people, including myself.
More details were revealed today about events that took place in my absence here which made me realise once again I have my own happiness and well-being in my own hands. Confused as ever how I got myself into a relationship tangle, I am trying to dig my way out. Confused I am about how things suddenly just fell apart from one day to the next. What happened, really, what happened, I find myself asking. But there is no answer.
"Move on..."
"Keep your options open..."
"Play around..."
I have tried. And yet the heart and mind goes back to where it feels comfortable, where it finds security never before found.
Break free.
More details were revealed today about events that took place in my absence here which made me realise once again I have my own happiness and well-being in my own hands. Confused as ever how I got myself into a relationship tangle, I am trying to dig my way out. Confused I am about how things suddenly just fell apart from one day to the next. What happened, really, what happened, I find myself asking. But there is no answer.
"Move on..."
"Keep your options open..."
"Play around..."
I have tried. And yet the heart and mind goes back to where it feels comfortable, where it finds security never before found.
Break free.
25 July 2011
Insensitivities
I came across a piece of news online, about the official opposition leader of Canada being diagnosed with a second cancer. He fought off his (first) prostate cancer, and though weakened, went on to lead his party to a surprising election victory. However, he is now stepping back from politics, if only temporarily, to fight the latest diagnosis.
It wasn't really the news of him stepping back that made me sad. It was reading the comments that some online users left behind that just made me feel so shocked about how people have so little sympathy and can be so wicked when it comes to politics. Though most of the disgusting comments have been deleted (moderated), I felt sick reading some that have not yet been removed.
Of course, there was an enormous outpouring of sympathy and well-wishes, some of which were very moving and personal. But then there are these array of vile, insensitive comments targeting and cursing a man who is already ill with perhaps the worst disease one could possibly imagine. Have these people got not sympathy for the suffering and pain of a fellow human being? Do they even know what it feels like for the patient and the family members to live with cancer and to go through the painfully, painfully testing and long treatments-- and to emerge unsure whether it will all succeed? They can not begin to imagine, cannot even begin to know unless they have experienced it themselves.
Cancer is no laughing matter, and certainly not fodder to fuel political bickering and material to use to add to someone's miseries and suffering, no matter which side of the political divide the person is on.
It wasn't really the news of him stepping back that made me sad. It was reading the comments that some online users left behind that just made me feel so shocked about how people have so little sympathy and can be so wicked when it comes to politics. Though most of the disgusting comments have been deleted (moderated), I felt sick reading some that have not yet been removed.
Of course, there was an enormous outpouring of sympathy and well-wishes, some of which were very moving and personal. But then there are these array of vile, insensitive comments targeting and cursing a man who is already ill with perhaps the worst disease one could possibly imagine. Have these people got not sympathy for the suffering and pain of a fellow human being? Do they even know what it feels like for the patient and the family members to live with cancer and to go through the painfully, painfully testing and long treatments-- and to emerge unsure whether it will all succeed? They can not begin to imagine, cannot even begin to know unless they have experienced it themselves.
Cancer is no laughing matter, and certainly not fodder to fuel political bickering and material to use to add to someone's miseries and suffering, no matter which side of the political divide the person is on.
24 July 2011
The past
It happened over three years ago. But I was reminded of it today while browsing through my email folders. It had escaped me, even though at the time it hurt be deeply, so bad I had to run out of the office and cry on the streets before collecting myself and returning to work.
I had just lost my dad, and returned to work after a month of being away. A friend, and colleague, someone with whom I thought I was close, pulled a terrible prank on me. It was so bad I was silenced and hurt beyond belief. I just ran out of the office.
Most painful of all was the betrayal. I thought there was something between us, a friendship that had developed through our studies and outside thereof. But even something strong can weaken and break down with one episode of poor judgement. After I collected myself, I told him it was cruel and insensitive of him. He apologised profusely and bought me a gift in an attempt to make amends. I accepted his apology. But things were never the same again. And a friendship I thought I found for life waned and eventually disappeared, buried under events, memories and people that came to fill my life since.
The email I received was his apology. He had sent it almost a year after the incident. I must have read it, but never replied to him. He said he sometimes lay awake at night, tormented by what he had done to me, and asked for my forgiveness again. I don't know why I never replied. I was over it. Time, the passage thereof, had healed my hurt, and I had moved on. Thinking back, it is an episode I can talk and write about, and not feel the same degree of pain I had felt back then.
I guess reading (or re-reading rather) his email today made me realise again... hurt, however deep, betrayal, however painful, will subside. And time, time may not always heal all wounds, but time can make you forget the details, the faces, the words that made you so upset and distraught in the first place. And some friends will come and go, just as those moments when you feel like the world is tumbling down, will come and go.
I had just lost my dad, and returned to work after a month of being away. A friend, and colleague, someone with whom I thought I was close, pulled a terrible prank on me. It was so bad I was silenced and hurt beyond belief. I just ran out of the office.
Most painful of all was the betrayal. I thought there was something between us, a friendship that had developed through our studies and outside thereof. But even something strong can weaken and break down with one episode of poor judgement. After I collected myself, I told him it was cruel and insensitive of him. He apologised profusely and bought me a gift in an attempt to make amends. I accepted his apology. But things were never the same again. And a friendship I thought I found for life waned and eventually disappeared, buried under events, memories and people that came to fill my life since.
The email I received was his apology. He had sent it almost a year after the incident. I must have read it, but never replied to him. He said he sometimes lay awake at night, tormented by what he had done to me, and asked for my forgiveness again. I don't know why I never replied. I was over it. Time, the passage thereof, had healed my hurt, and I had moved on. Thinking back, it is an episode I can talk and write about, and not feel the same degree of pain I had felt back then.
I guess reading (or re-reading rather) his email today made me realise again... hurt, however deep, betrayal, however painful, will subside. And time, time may not always heal all wounds, but time can make you forget the details, the faces, the words that made you so upset and distraught in the first place. And some friends will come and go, just as those moments when you feel like the world is tumbling down, will come and go.
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