Crying

The tears just fell, and I could not stop them. Could it be all that physical strain and tension after biking over 110km today? Could it be being surrounded by all these people who are making a stand against cancer? Could it be seeing cancer survivors, some very pale looking and with only a few strands of hair on their heads, pedal on so courageously? Or simply, I miss mum... Miss mum and dad, whose picture I am carrying with me on this epic voyage to "conquer cancer" and conquer my own grief and sorrows.

"Every single day

Every word you say

Every game you play

Every night you stay

I'll be watching you

Oh can't you see

You belong to me

How my poor heart aches

With every step you take

Every move you make

Every vow you break

Every smile you fake

Every claim you stake

I'll be watching you

Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace

I dream at night, I can only see your face

Every move you make

Every vow you break

Every smile you fake

Every claim you stake

I'll be watching you"

The live band played that song just now. If you have ever lost someone, you will understand the depth of meaning behind the lyrics and truly appreciate the song. 

I'm sitting here alone surrounded by so many people, crying quietly. The song is yet another reminded of all I have lost over the past year. No doubt, people around me have experienced similar and perhaps more devastating losses. But it's a bitter reality that as I am embarking on one of the greatest physical challenges to date, I am all alone here. How I wish I could share my thoughts... How I wish I could share my feelings of pride! How I wish I could share that joy biking through the beautiful countryside at 30+km/hr and temporarily having not a worry in the world! How I wish someone I know could be here as I am crying now...

I am here, in the middle of a challenge. Can they see me now? Will they be proud of me and my little moment of glory? If they could see me now. 

Are you happy now?

I don't know when I set myself this reminder. But yesterday, suddenly I saw this email in my inbox. A reminder to myself.

Did I set it last year, a week or so after mum passed away after the several years of struggle with her illness? Did I set myself to remind myself that whatever happens, happiness is not what you are experiencing or facing, but to be found within? 

Am I happy now? 

I'm ok. I'm ok. Not happy, and no longer so terribly sad (though there are moments when reminders and memories  of the people I have lost catch up with me...). Just empty inside, empty because there is such a void that I cannot even begin to describe. 

I am ok. Just ok. Just ok. 

eve of the ride...

This is it. The eve before my first really long bike ride for charity. Cancer research of all the causes I  hold dear to my heart.

I'm a bit anxious, as its over 110km for two days straight. The last time I did something similar I injured my knee and could not walk without pain for weeks. I felt like a failure, and that's not a pleasant feeling, especially as I'm already very down these day. 

The weather is another factor that is stressful. It's been cool and breezy since summer began. And f all weekends, this one will be the hottest and most humid to date...

It'll be a challenge. I get emotional just thinking about it. This is a ride for my mum, for my parents who were both take away by cancer. 

I'm supposed to raise $2500, but so far have around $2000. Over half of that is my own donation (sponsoring myself to bike...), and much is from my ex who's worked tirelessly to raise money (in the most unusual and indirect way... Through credit card referrals!) I've gotten support from the usual people I know from work and from my little circle of friends. I know I should be grateful for every little donation, but it baffles me that those who have the most to spare give the most sparingly... Whereas those who struggle financially have been most generous. It's strange how people can splash out on trips and concerts, and yet seem to struggle to donate to a good cause... As I wrote in my last ditch attempt to solicit donations on Facebook, why can we spend trillions on waging war and the entertainment industry, and yet the global amount for cancer research is merely $6billion or so?

--

My ex just sent me a touching video wishing me, wishing me this journey is a first step towards greater happiness in my life. It was very touching. But it was also painful to watch. It seemed like the kind of message you sent someone you once loved but can only care about secretly from a distance. Instinctively I wanted to write back and ask why. Why is he not here? Why and how we have become so distant and I so greatly troubled when one year ago we made sweet love on the floor of mum's apartment and he whispered so many promised in my ears? Are those not just empty empty words now? Meaningless words spoken at a time of high emotions and high hopes but which in the end, one year on,  mean so little now... I must be and sound so ungrateful. 

And I must make do with that. Make do with the fact I can only be loved and cared about from a distance, make do with the fact I must undertake another significant and challenging step alone when in fact I need and so long for someone by my side. 

--

This is going to be a long and difficult journey. One I don't think I've really prepared for mentally or physically. This is not just a ride to raise money for cancer research. It is a journey to shake away the depression and grief that has so plagued me over the past year. 

I am biking for mum... And to dispel the grief and pain of the various kinds of loss that I have experienced over the past year. I may have been disillusioned, depressed and so downtrodden, I may have been so left behind and abandoned, but when I am on a bike, i know I can go places. I know I can be strong and determined. I need this spur of energy, this rush of andrenaline to carry me, to push me, to drag me out of the negativity and pain that has surrounded my thoughts and life for far too long...

Nightmare at 1.45

I saw my brother's face. He came into my bedroom. I was in bed, covered by my duvet. He climbed onto my bed. In one swift action he reached into my duvet and attempted to grab my genitalia... In his eyes there was such a look of lust and ugliness...

I shock awake and found myself so close to tears...

Arrivederci!

Another airport goodbye. Another friend leaving, the third in the span of a month. 

He came in October last year and we shared an office. He was hardly there, as he preferred to work at home. He's such an workaholic, -and I could learn a thing or two from him. It was only in the past two months or so that we became closer, and I've been showing him more of Canada, as he's more or less buried his head in work and did not really had time (or made the time) to enjoy the city (let alone country...). I'm perhaps the one real friend he had here, and he was extremely grateful that I let him stay at my place when I was away two weeks ago. He had a mouse problem in his apartment. Ironically, I have a cat. 

A few unpleasantries and internal politics at the office meant that his contract was not renewed, much to his disappointment. By next month, after another two friends and colleagues leave (or are forced to leave...), I will be more or less alone at the office. 

 I'll miss this friend I've grown to know better  over the past week or so. It's rare to find a friend, and to meet someone who understands what it is like to lose a parent. Others do not know and do not really care to know. My friend told me to visit him in his little village, where he lives with his mum and sister and her family. It is no wonder why he chooses to return home. There is love and care there.

Everyone seems to be leaving. I'm more or less left here, with nobody whom I can really call a friend. Maybe it's time I should leave too. Get away from this place and begin life afresh.

 I may just do  that. 

Airport goodbye

I waved at the plane. Could he see me on the runway? Could he see me now that I put on my right red hoodie and was gesturing at the plane in the distance? I watched the plane taxi and pause before hurtling down the runway and away from sight.

I stood outside and waited for my ex's plane to take off. Watched his baggage being uploaded, watched the skybridge retract, watched the plane  pull back: was that a dash of red in a window behind the propellers of the Q-400? Was that the bear and the red tailor made hoodie? 

We met up, we chatted briefly by the stairs. I asked him about his short trip to Europe, which was filled with a lot of rushing around and drama. He asked me how I am doing. I held back. Held back the words and tears. What could I say? How can I possibly describe how I'm feeling, how I've been feeling in the past week, in the past month, in the past year?a year of disillusionment, as I put it recently. A year of loss and terrible and almost constant struggle with tears and pain, struggle to be "normal" again, to be heard and recognised as someone who needs support and understanding, comforting and company.

 He said he tried to reach me. He did, he really did. He said I never call. Call while he's spending precious moments with his family? Call while he's on holiday? Call and interrupt or interfere with  his life?  He apologised for not being there this past weekend. just bad timing. He apologised for not being there next week when I do my long charity bike ride. I smiled weakly. I appreciated him wanting to be there. His constant attempts to reach me showed that. Him wanting to give me his most special bear proved that. but If the last year of my life is any indication, too many things one must face alone. And I cannot afford to long for his presence or expect him to be there when I am crying or feeling sad, or when the pains of mourning weighs too heavily on me. We are not "that" way anymore.

I gave him a bag of goodies. He didn't seem to notice, maybe he'll forget them. But they're  from my heart to his, and say what I hope to say but feel no longer able. However distant I may appear now, and whatever distance I am deliberately putting between him and me, I care about him, think of him, love him from afar. It's the only way I know how. It's the only way I can be to him without being hurt again and again. 

The plane hurtled down the runway. The plane disappeared from sight No more holding back . No more holding back the tears.

Surprise?

An at the airport, hiding behind a pillar. Supposed to meet my ex who's returning from his short trip to Europe. He has something of mine, that special teddy bear my gave me, which he inadvertently took with him by mistake.

Why am I hiding? Why do I look around and feel so afraid? I'm not supposed to be here. Maybe someone else is here right now. My mind is afraid of the "surpriser being the (unpleasantly) surprised". How ridiculous am I being here? How ridiculous am I still keeping up the charade of greeting the best friend at the airport when I feel I've been rejected to the side in my ex's life? 

One year anniversary (again)

The anniversary of mum's passing today. Nothing like I expected, nothing like I anticipated. Why am I born into a culture where there are two calendars? So I have to hurt twice? It is the way it is.

I woke up an hour before the time, 20.05 Taipei time, to gather my thoughts and feelings. I called brother. On Facebook I see , as I suggested to him last week, they prepared a meal for mum. He didn't say much when I asked him how he felt. I am sure he saw the pictures of mum I shared and the songs that I posted. It was such a brief conversation. 

I felt empty. Empty of feelings, empty of thoughts, empty of anxieties and sadness (which is a good thing I guess...) and also devoid of joy and energy. I lay down to rest and allowed sleep to take over. 

I took the bike for a spin, as planned to. I needed to escape the house, to keep myself busy and free from brooding thoughts that arise when I'm alone. I biked and biked and biked till I was tired. 

Then at one point I turned to look at something. When I turned back, I saw my front wheel veering toward a pole in the middle of the bike path. I braked. Wrong brake. Front brake. My entire body flew over the handle bar and I landed on my left arm. I felt a sore sensation run through my arm as my body was cushioned on it. I felt my knees scrape the floor and then this stinging pain that lasted for hours...

I got on my feet, saw my bloodied and soiled knee caps. they hurt terribly, but my main concern was my arm which I felt like was twisted. I scrambled to my feet, limped slowly to a park bench. In my mind I felt such worry about the ride to conquer cancer next week. I so wanted to do it, to challenge myself, to prove to myself I am still able, still capable, still strong one year on. I grit my teeth and biked back. 

Some anniversary. Maybe I am putting too much meaning into it. It is perhaps just another day. I tried to make it one in which life goes on. I woke up, I ate, I biked, I saw friends who insisted me to going out (if it were not for the fact he's leaving for good in two days, I would have not gone out...). It felt like any other day. Except, exactly a year ago I was still trying to figure out the significance of losing my last remaining parent. 

I am still trying to figure out things, trying to move on, trying to be strong. And I am managing. However lonely I may feel, however alone I may be, I am managing.