This will not last for long. It will last as longer as you let it last.
Break from the norm, break the clinging, break the longing.
Break free.
10 December 2011
08 December 2011
What did you expect
I lay down to sleep, and I managed somehow. But in that twilight zone between sleep and consciousness, images came to me. Disturbing images that I cannot remember any more. I had an urge to go see my friend, who was two doors from me. So I crept silently toward his room, knocked gently and opened the door.
He was in bed, but on the phone. I knew immediately to whom. And I apologised for intruding on his conversation. All my desire to talk to him, to have a nice heart to heart chat with someone close was gone. I felt like I was intruding in his life, disturbing his quiet time with his friend (for lack of a better word, "guy he's seeing"), and perhaps it was wrong of me to come all the way here and be here. What did I expect? What was I even thinking?
But it was so confusing... just moments before, he was bedroom and he kissed me goodnight.
I guess what hurt was that before, even just a couple of months or so ago, I was the one my ex would be calling the last thing before he went to bed. But I'm not that person any more. "All change" as they say when the train reaches the end of its route, and something my ex and I used to say and joke about when his previous relationship broke down. It's just a little bizzare, and painful, that so soon those two words apply to us.
He was in bed, but on the phone. I knew immediately to whom. And I apologised for intruding on his conversation. All my desire to talk to him, to have a nice heart to heart chat with someone close was gone. I felt like I was intruding in his life, disturbing his quiet time with his friend (for lack of a better word, "guy he's seeing"), and perhaps it was wrong of me to come all the way here and be here. What did I expect? What was I even thinking?
But it was so confusing... just moments before, he was bedroom and he kissed me goodnight.
I guess what hurt was that before, even just a couple of months or so ago, I was the one my ex would be calling the last thing before he went to bed. But I'm not that person any more. "All change" as they say when the train reaches the end of its route, and something my ex and I used to say and joke about when his previous relationship broke down. It's just a little bizzare, and painful, that so soon those two words apply to us.
07 December 2011
AMS-LHR-NCL
A dozen minutes or so before landing at NCL. Within the next hour, everything I've planned over the past two, three weeks will be realised.
Will it all go according to plan, according to how I imagine it in my head?
How very exciting this all is. And in a way, how very romantic too. Romantic in the most general sense... In the sense that someone would travel so far, go through all sorts of trouble, go to all lengths just to spring up a wonderful surprise on you. Romantic also in the 'love' sense... What would you do to make someone feel loved and appreciated? A lot.
How far would you go to let them know you care? Far, far...
Recording
I called mum from the airport just as I was about to board the plane from AMS to LHR/NCL. Perhaps as the airport wifi connection thins down the connection to Skype, it was not possible to have a conversation with her, even though I could hear her. In the end, I sent mum text messages to tell her that I'm taking the plane, and wishing her well. I always do that before boarding the plane. Paranoia? No, just in case...
Perhaps mum did not realise it, but she did not hang up her Skype when she picked up, and she inadvertently left me a "voice message". Nothing much really, just some background noise at first, some shuffling of (I guess pieces of paper), and then the TV being turned on. I listened to the recording, which lasted around five minutes. What was I listening for? I'm not sure... a 'view' into mum's life and what she does when nobody is around, perhaps? I felt like a voyeur, but of the audio kind, instead of one who likes to peep and secretly watch someone from a distance.
But somehow I just wanted, needed to know if there were clues as to mum's condition or how she is doing. There weren't any. Just the TV, some kind of talk show or economic analyst talking. About what I could not really understand, as the voice was muffled. Mum did not say anything.
Eventually the recording cut out.
Perhaps mum did not realise it, but she did not hang up her Skype when she picked up, and she inadvertently left me a "voice message". Nothing much really, just some background noise at first, some shuffling of (I guess pieces of paper), and then the TV being turned on. I listened to the recording, which lasted around five minutes. What was I listening for? I'm not sure... a 'view' into mum's life and what she does when nobody is around, perhaps? I felt like a voyeur, but of the audio kind, instead of one who likes to peep and secretly watch someone from a distance.
But somehow I just wanted, needed to know if there were clues as to mum's condition or how she is doing. There weren't any. Just the TV, some kind of talk show or economic analyst talking. About what I could not really understand, as the voice was muffled. Mum did not say anything.
Eventually the recording cut out.
06 December 2011
My nephew
I don't know what overcame me. I stood behind my brother and my
sister-in-law, who were bent over the crib, laughing and tickling my
little nephew. There were soft little giggles, and on his face was the
clear expression of innocence and joy. I started to tear...
I looked away and blinked the soft, gentle shedding of tears away. Is there anything more important than family? Is there anything more beautiful than a couple playing with and talking to their newborn child?
I was touched. All the years of uncertainty in my family, all the years of facing illness and death, at last a sign of the beauty and irresistible energy of birth and life. All the travelling I did, all the little gifts I bought, all the hoping and expectations, and this was the reward... To see my brother and his family happy and safe, basking in the warm, gentle surroundings of a comfortable home, a loving cat, and love. What else does anyone need in life, what else does anyone ever want that is not already in this very scene that made me tear?
"Grandma doesn't want to come see you..." my brother said, teasing. I know deep down how much he would have wanted mum to be with us on this special day. On my nephew's first (Dutch) Christmas, on the day when miracles come true, on the day children are surprised with great gifts. Mum could only share our joy, and look at that empty chair next to me in pictures, and imagine herself sitting there...
"Grandma doesn't love you..." brother said, jestering. But in truth, and my brother knows it too, mum loves her grandson more than anyone can describe it. He is the reason why she learned to use Skype and Facebook, because she wants to see and hear her godson grow and grow every single day. Mum may not have had the chance to travel to see my nephew in person, but her love is expressed in her smile and laughter whenever she hears him gurgle and giggle, whenever she sees him exercising his arms and feet in his crib. Her love is expressed in the way she buys him towels, clothes and goodies and sends them by express air packages. And is not setting up a special bank account for her grandson so that one day, even when she is no longer around, he can go to university without having to worry too much costs, not another way of showing him how much she loves him?
My brother picked up my nephew, and sister-in-law played with his little arms and feet. I smiled at them with moist eyes.
How lucky I am to be an uncle...
How fortunate I am to share in the joys and wonders this little boy has brought to my family...
I looked away and blinked the soft, gentle shedding of tears away. Is there anything more important than family? Is there anything more beautiful than a couple playing with and talking to their newborn child?
I was touched. All the years of uncertainty in my family, all the years of facing illness and death, at last a sign of the beauty and irresistible energy of birth and life. All the travelling I did, all the little gifts I bought, all the hoping and expectations, and this was the reward... To see my brother and his family happy and safe, basking in the warm, gentle surroundings of a comfortable home, a loving cat, and love. What else does anyone need in life, what else does anyone ever want that is not already in this very scene that made me tear?
"Grandma doesn't want to come see you..." my brother said, teasing. I know deep down how much he would have wanted mum to be with us on this special day. On my nephew's first (Dutch) Christmas, on the day when miracles come true, on the day children are surprised with great gifts. Mum could only share our joy, and look at that empty chair next to me in pictures, and imagine herself sitting there...
"Grandma doesn't love you..." brother said, jestering. But in truth, and my brother knows it too, mum loves her grandson more than anyone can describe it. He is the reason why she learned to use Skype and Facebook, because she wants to see and hear her godson grow and grow every single day. Mum may not have had the chance to travel to see my nephew in person, but her love is expressed in her smile and laughter whenever she hears him gurgle and giggle, whenever she sees him exercising his arms and feet in his crib. Her love is expressed in the way she buys him towels, clothes and goodies and sends them by express air packages. And is not setting up a special bank account for her grandson so that one day, even when she is no longer around, he can go to university without having to worry too much costs, not another way of showing him how much she loves him?
My brother picked up my nephew, and sister-in-law played with his little arms and feet. I smiled at them with moist eyes.
How lucky I am to be an uncle...
How fortunate I am to share in the joys and wonders this little boy has brought to my family...
What really matters
Friends may abandon you and fade away, lovers may leave and turn away, but family...
family always stay family no matter what.
family always stay family no matter what.
05 December 2011
Connecting with the past
It was a very last minute meeting, nothing calculated, nothing planned.
The thought of writing to him just came to my mind the night before, and
I wasn't really expecting a response, especially to a sudden proposal
to meet. But respond he did, and we met. On Sinterklaas (St Nicholas
Day), the day, of all days, on which the wishes and dreams of children
are supposed to be fulfilled. Pure coincidence, perhaps.
It's been about four years since we last met. And I proposed to meet at the same place where we first met on a date, outside the public library. At the agreed time, as I walked toward the building, I saw him lean against the wall lost in his book.
Quietly I called his name, and he looked up. I smiled.
Beforehand I had contemplated a bit on how to greet him. What is the most appropriate way to greet someone you met on two dates four years ago and then disappeared from your life until four years later you suddenly receive a mail from telling you for such a long time you have been on his mind? Do you do the traditional three kisses on the cheeks? I don't know why that seemed like a bizarre choice. Do I give him a handshake? It would have felt too formal, like a business meeting. And I think we are beyond that. So I gave him a hug. A big hug, and said in his ear it's been so long already. Nothing could go or be wrong with a hug. At least in my mind...
It was a little awkward at first, knowing what to say, getting used to one another again after all this time. For me, the initial awkwardness came from, I guess, trying to figure out who this person is and how he figures in my life. Reading his email, in which be confessed to thinking about me even after all this time, made me feel flattered, but at the same time scared. And a few weeks ago, I discovered that he began a blog, in which he wrote some entries about me, and how I touch(ed) and inspire(d) him.
It's not (I don't think) that he's been lying awake at night and hopelessly dreaming of what could have been between us had I not moved away months after we met. It's just that all these years, I didn't have a clue that our two dates left such a deep impression on him, and I felt responsible. Did I consciously go out with him and then let things just fade away because he wasn't interesting? No, it wasn't that. I simply had too much going on in my life, simply had too much to deal with, at the time we met that he, and whatever could have been between us, was pushed to the background.
He says he's grateful I was his first date. Not that we had anything intimate or physical, but at the very least just meeting me and getting to know (what little of) me sort of set the bar for the kind of person he'd like to find and be with. And for me... Who was he for me? I've been trying to figure that out since he wrote to me. It's not that I don't have any feelings toward him. There's something there, just how deep or how strong I'm not sure. Hard as it sounds, I really just don't remember how I felt back then.
The few hours we sat down and caught up on the missing days of our lives over the past few years went by so quickly. We spoke about changes in our lives, what we've been up to. And very quickly, it began to feel as if I was meeting an old friend and having a heart to heart talk. We spoke about relationships, exs, plans and hopes. And despite the hiatus of some four years, it felt like I was getting to know a good friend.
At one point, I steered the conversation to our first dates. Was it appropriate? I don't know. But at least for me, it felt like it was a topic we needed to touch upon to get rid of any lingering feelings and awkwardness.
As he and I spoke about our feelings and what our first meetings meant to one another, the bits and pieces began to be put together. And he grew on me again. There before me was a guy, smart, good-looking, well-spoken and reflective, with whom I know I could have something. But alas, fate and life did not grant us the time or opportunity.
What that would develop into, how long that would have lasted, I don't know. But there was, and in ways, there still is, potential. It felt disappointing to realise that, for I know two days from now I'll be gone, and who knows when I'll see him again (though I did repeatedly invite him to visit me, and he too invited me to visit him in the city he'll be moving to...). Two days from now, whatever feelings that have been rekindled, even if they are faint and uncertain, will most likely fade again as he and I go back to separate our lives.
It was disappointing because the distance and barriers between us are just too great (besides, he probably does not feel the same way I feel...). But our meeting also gave me a sense of hope. Hope, especially after all the complications with my ex and being left to feel abandoned and lingering in the background as he pursues a new relationship, that I can feel again, that I can meet someone and feel like I can move on. If my ex can apparently move on so quickly, then why can't I? Why do I feel like I owe my ex anything, when he is already out there pursuing (or at least trying to pursue) his own happiness? I can do the same, I want to do the same.
Meeting this guy from four years ago reassured me that I deserve something beautiful. I deserve to be with someone who can be with me fully, and not make me feel o need to compete for and win his love and attention. I do not need to always feel like the victim or feel worthless because my ex left me to go after someone else. I am master over my own happiness and the life I choose I lead.
We parted company, and he was a bit quiet, I was a bit quiet. How will this all end, I found myself asking. What was going on in his mind, I do not know, perhaps will never know.
Again, I gave him a hug, a tight and long one, the way I know how. He went his way, I went mine. For a moment, I stood and watched him cycle away. He probably had no idea...
Quietly, as his figure grew smaller and smaller, I wished him well, wished him happiness and peace. And the distance between us began to grow and grow again.
It's been about four years since we last met. And I proposed to meet at the same place where we first met on a date, outside the public library. At the agreed time, as I walked toward the building, I saw him lean against the wall lost in his book.
Quietly I called his name, and he looked up. I smiled.
Beforehand I had contemplated a bit on how to greet him. What is the most appropriate way to greet someone you met on two dates four years ago and then disappeared from your life until four years later you suddenly receive a mail from telling you for such a long time you have been on his mind? Do you do the traditional three kisses on the cheeks? I don't know why that seemed like a bizarre choice. Do I give him a handshake? It would have felt too formal, like a business meeting. And I think we are beyond that. So I gave him a hug. A big hug, and said in his ear it's been so long already. Nothing could go or be wrong with a hug. At least in my mind...
It was a little awkward at first, knowing what to say, getting used to one another again after all this time. For me, the initial awkwardness came from, I guess, trying to figure out who this person is and how he figures in my life. Reading his email, in which be confessed to thinking about me even after all this time, made me feel flattered, but at the same time scared. And a few weeks ago, I discovered that he began a blog, in which he wrote some entries about me, and how I touch(ed) and inspire(d) him.
It's not (I don't think) that he's been lying awake at night and hopelessly dreaming of what could have been between us had I not moved away months after we met. It's just that all these years, I didn't have a clue that our two dates left such a deep impression on him, and I felt responsible. Did I consciously go out with him and then let things just fade away because he wasn't interesting? No, it wasn't that. I simply had too much going on in my life, simply had too much to deal with, at the time we met that he, and whatever could have been between us, was pushed to the background.
He says he's grateful I was his first date. Not that we had anything intimate or physical, but at the very least just meeting me and getting to know (what little of) me sort of set the bar for the kind of person he'd like to find and be with. And for me... Who was he for me? I've been trying to figure that out since he wrote to me. It's not that I don't have any feelings toward him. There's something there, just how deep or how strong I'm not sure. Hard as it sounds, I really just don't remember how I felt back then.
The few hours we sat down and caught up on the missing days of our lives over the past few years went by so quickly. We spoke about changes in our lives, what we've been up to. And very quickly, it began to feel as if I was meeting an old friend and having a heart to heart talk. We spoke about relationships, exs, plans and hopes. And despite the hiatus of some four years, it felt like I was getting to know a good friend.
At one point, I steered the conversation to our first dates. Was it appropriate? I don't know. But at least for me, it felt like it was a topic we needed to touch upon to get rid of any lingering feelings and awkwardness.
As he and I spoke about our feelings and what our first meetings meant to one another, the bits and pieces began to be put together. And he grew on me again. There before me was a guy, smart, good-looking, well-spoken and reflective, with whom I know I could have something. But alas, fate and life did not grant us the time or opportunity.
What that would develop into, how long that would have lasted, I don't know. But there was, and in ways, there still is, potential. It felt disappointing to realise that, for I know two days from now I'll be gone, and who knows when I'll see him again (though I did repeatedly invite him to visit me, and he too invited me to visit him in the city he'll be moving to...). Two days from now, whatever feelings that have been rekindled, even if they are faint and uncertain, will most likely fade again as he and I go back to separate our lives.
It was disappointing because the distance and barriers between us are just too great (besides, he probably does not feel the same way I feel...). But our meeting also gave me a sense of hope. Hope, especially after all the complications with my ex and being left to feel abandoned and lingering in the background as he pursues a new relationship, that I can feel again, that I can meet someone and feel like I can move on. If my ex can apparently move on so quickly, then why can't I? Why do I feel like I owe my ex anything, when he is already out there pursuing (or at least trying to pursue) his own happiness? I can do the same, I want to do the same.
Meeting this guy from four years ago reassured me that I deserve something beautiful. I deserve to be with someone who can be with me fully, and not make me feel o need to compete for and win his love and attention. I do not need to always feel like the victim or feel worthless because my ex left me to go after someone else. I am master over my own happiness and the life I choose I lead.
We parted company, and he was a bit quiet, I was a bit quiet. How will this all end, I found myself asking. What was going on in his mind, I do not know, perhaps will never know.
Again, I gave him a hug, a tight and long one, the way I know how. He went his way, I went mine. For a moment, I stood and watched him cycle away. He probably had no idea...
Quietly, as his figure grew smaller and smaller, I wished him well, wished him happiness and peace. And the distance between us began to grow and grow again.
04 December 2011
Dream of a stranger
I was pushed to the ground, and two three people stood around me, laughing, jeering and shouting abusive comments.
"Stop it! Stop it!" I said, and tried to pick myself up. I hugged my stomach in pain, most likely because one of the guys had punched me hard there.
As soon I managed to stand up, they pushed me and pinned me against the wall.
"Stop torturing me!" I pleaded. A number of arms grabbed my body and began to fondle me, touching me all over. I cringed and wanted to scream... But there was a hand covering over my mouth.
I looked into the eyes of the guy trying to smother me. I know him from somewhere. But I've never really spoken to him in person. Who are you? I know you, but only from a distance. Why do you intimidate me so much? Why are you torturing me like this? His smile turned into an evil snigger as his hand smothered my nose, my mouth.
And I bit. My teeth tore into the flesh around his wrist and I bit down. Hard. A gush of warmth and saltiness poured into my mouth and started to trickle down my chin. Red blood gushed and gushed, gruelsome to see, bitter and frightening to taste.
The guy screamed, out loud and in great horror, and pulled his hand away. The blood was gushing like a small fountain.
I stood there, blood stained and alone, as the guys fled. I collapsed to the ground and began to shiver... I felt so alone, so abandoned and was left to fend for myself...
My first long night of sleep in I don't know how many days. This nightmare occurred just as I was falling asleep, and it was extremely disturbing.
My first night spent in the home I lived in for over almost a decade or so, from the last three years of high school till I left for Canada (interrupted by three years studying in London). So strange that I should have such a graphic and terrible dream on this first night...
What does it all mean...?
"Stop it! Stop it!" I said, and tried to pick myself up. I hugged my stomach in pain, most likely because one of the guys had punched me hard there.
As soon I managed to stand up, they pushed me and pinned me against the wall.
"Stop torturing me!" I pleaded. A number of arms grabbed my body and began to fondle me, touching me all over. I cringed and wanted to scream... But there was a hand covering over my mouth.
I looked into the eyes of the guy trying to smother me. I know him from somewhere. But I've never really spoken to him in person. Who are you? I know you, but only from a distance. Why do you intimidate me so much? Why are you torturing me like this? His smile turned into an evil snigger as his hand smothered my nose, my mouth.
And I bit. My teeth tore into the flesh around his wrist and I bit down. Hard. A gush of warmth and saltiness poured into my mouth and started to trickle down my chin. Red blood gushed and gushed, gruelsome to see, bitter and frightening to taste.
The guy screamed, out loud and in great horror, and pulled his hand away. The blood was gushing like a small fountain.
I stood there, blood stained and alone, as the guys fled. I collapsed to the ground and began to shiver... I felt so alone, so abandoned and was left to fend for myself...
My first long night of sleep in I don't know how many days. This nightmare occurred just as I was falling asleep, and it was extremely disturbing.
My first night spent in the home I lived in for over almost a decade or so, from the last three years of high school till I left for Canada (interrupted by three years studying in London). So strange that I should have such a graphic and terrible dream on this first night...
What does it all mean...?
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