Love drug

This friend I met recently told me that love is like a drug. It induces chemical reactions that make you addicted and yearning for more. It's more than just a feeling, an emotion, but when you're lacking it,  changes in your brain and body actually occur that make you experience a "low"... You become agitated, impatient, and look for ways to satisfy your needs and desires.

The point is, after a breakup and you're still hanging around the ex, the same sense of familiarity and comfort and all that is related to what we call 'love' is triggered. But it's not healthy. Imagine an addict trying to wane off a drug, and then being exposed to it now and then. How is he going to recover if the addictive substance is dangled in front of his face from time to time? The recovery and rehab will no doubt be more painful, and take much longer.






So cut the source of the addiction. At least for a while.

But I do miss him deeply... his presence as a rock in my life, as the source warmth and light that keeps me safe at night. If anything, he is the best friend I have ever had. And how do I let go of that so easily?

Retreat

Who would have thought that as I was sitting in that library and missing what we had together earlier tonight, my ex was spending time with the guy he is so infatuated with...? And how very bizarre that I had a nightmare about this very thing happening the night before...?

How painful it is to find out about that...
My head hurts terribly, and I cannot sleep... I lie awake so hurt, so hurt, so disturbed...

Time to enter a new era of isolation and retreat.

Longings

Sometimes the longing is so strong it is difficult to overcome... I know if I just close my eyes and meditate, the feelings, the urges will go away. Since I have met my friend and till recently, the desire for physical and emotional contact has been more than fully satisfied. And now, after promising to myself and to him to keep some distance, I find myself wanting, and feeling empty without... I know if I want to talk, if I want a hug, he is just a phone call or a text away.

But I cannot do that, I cannot keep on running to him, especially as he is trying to forget about me, trying to move on and pursue the boy he feels so deeply for. And  I cannot keep on running toward him in search of comfort and assurance when I am trying to build a life without him being there all the time when I need someone to hold and to listen to me.




I have to admit, there is an emptiness inside that is eating me, even as I sit here in the empty library on a rainy Sunday evening... I long for that intimacy again, that human contact, that human feel and warmth, that connection which makes me feel whole, even if only temporarily. And I'm so scared of going out there, just hooking up and descending into a world where I seek out people just for pleasure. Because I know I am not like that. Because I know I deserve and want so much more than just the physical...

If I close my eyes, meditate for a while, the urges, the feelings, the longings will go away.

I must tell myself that, and resist...

Surprise

Out of nowhere I received an email asking me to go.
I gladly accepted, and will leave in about two weeks' time.
I will not tell any one until the day before I leave. And then I will just leave. No looking back, no regrets. And I will be away for some time.

There is a part of me that is hesitant, as the timing is difficult, especially with equivalency exams I had registered for at the beginning of October. Hesitant too because I am afraid of what I may be coming back to when I eventually return. But life continues, even when you hide yourself in the seclusion of somewhere, life continues. And I will just have to deal with things when I eventually return. 

But now is a better time than ever to go away, to get away from things here. I need the time alone, to reflect, to escape and to realise myself rediscover what is more important in life...

Change

The days roll by, one after another, and it is suddenly already September. The summer is officially over.

Went on a walk with friends yesterday, and I noticed a change. Most trees had green, thick foliage still, but bits of the forest was changing in colour. Ever so slightly, and perhaps unnoticeable to most people, especially under the blaring sun. But there were hints of red and yellow, forespelling the arrival of another season...

I look forward to cooler temperatures, to the changing of the coats, to the colours that will brighten up the world a little more. Change is a good thing, as it shows life is moving forward and onward...

Restless night

I went to sleep soon after coming home.

I remember waking up often, my head disturbed by strange dreams and images.
Strange, because it was of this person I've never met before--- the person my ex is so infatuated with. Why was I dreaming of him? I don't fully recall shat happened in the dream, just that he was there and it caused some discomfort... I think my ex and he were in the same room, but I'm not sure what they were doing. They were just both in my dream.

What's happening between him and my ex, I'm not sure, and I'm afraid to ask too. They were supposed to go away this weekend, on a trip that's supposed to make clear what their relationship is. But it got cancelled.

I'm not sure what to make of this all, as whenever he mentions the other person or is tapping away on the phone with him, i get apprehensive and wonder what I'm still doing hanging around my ex so much...

Quiet

I woke up after a few hours of disturbed sleep, and took myself to the library in an attempt to get some work done. There is little progress, but at least there is progress. Every word, every sentence one step closer to the end of this long and seemingly endless journey to finish my thesis, finish something I began two years ago, but only made halting progress.

In the evening, I got together with friends I had not seen for a while. It feels like forever, especially as a friend was away for a number of weeks. I missed the evenings chatting away and laughing, sharing our lives over drinks and bags of chips when we would ask one another about going-ons in our lives.

"How is your mother?" I froze, and went quiet. I stared into the distance, eyes watering, knowing full well what had been asked but not knowing what I should reply. Do I lie or do I just answer with a simple "alright" and let the difficult, difficult question pass? My eyes became a little moist and I looked away. My friends understood from my silence that something was not well. They extended their toes to touch me, to comfort me. I withdraw and went quiet. The quiet, the silence, not having to think about things, not having to talk about things do not make things go away. They do make things disappear from my mind temporarily so I can fill my mind with distractions and make myself believe that things are alright.

A friend asked about plans in the coming period, whether my mum is going to go visit the baby in Europe. There is an open ticket for her return, but who knows whether she can make the trip... who knows what treatments she may have to undergo... who knows what her health or condition will be tomorrow, next week, let alone next month or next year?

I changed the subject, smiled, and let the topic drop. My ex offered to talk and spend the night together. But I was not in the mood, and quietly left...

First step to becoming a lawyer

I started studying, the first time in a long, long time. Studying for an exam I'm going to sit in a little over three weeks' time. It'll be my first exam in Canadian law, and it'll mark the beginning of getting qualified to practice law in Canada.

I want to qualify as a lawyer. It is a promise to myself, and a promise to my parents (yes, to mum, and dad too) that I will one day become a lawyer. I don't need to be a big-shot corporate lawyer. I want to work with the law to help people, to make a little difference in this world. Even if that difference is in the world of one person, that is enough. That is my ambition. That is my dream. That is what I will achieve one day, I know it.

I've been just reading the recommended text books for the last two days. A slow start, reading and taking notes, and progressing at twenty pages or less an hour. The five hundred or so pages will take me a long while to cover, and this will be the start of perhaps days and nights of studying in the period to come.

I'm not really sure what to except, but there are reading lists and core readings that have to be covered. This is the first time I'm going to sit an exam where I'm preparing by my self, and will not have attended any classes. I'm not too sure whether that will hurt or benefit me, but at least all that I need is to get enough score for a "pass" (it's either a pass or fail, doesn't matter what score).

I'm wishing myself good luck... I may just need it.

First day

I admired his face and body from afar. He looks so fragile, so small, so frail... How I wish to feel and hear his breathing, to listen to the sounds he makes, to feel the warmth of his little, little fingers and toes...

I called brother and finally managed to reach him. It was a smooth birth, from labour to my nephew entering the world took around two hours or so. All very quickly, he said, and he was there to greet the little life with his own hands. "Very touching", he said. I listened and imagined the scene, the beautiful scene...

All vital signs are normal, ten little fingers, ten little toes, weighing at  some 2950grams, which as I suspected from seeing pictures, is a little on the low side. But the child is healthy, and the mother is relatively well too, despite obviously being exhausted from the labour pains and giving birth.

My brother said the baby and mother are home now, discharged after just a day. He tried to change the diapers, and apparently my nephew's pee sprayed all over the freshly painted wall. My brother wasn't upset, as he normally would be, but found it amusing. And I reminded him of a story mum once recounted when my brother peed all over my mum's (or was it my dad's...?) face just a few days after he was born.

From the conversation, I could hear the excitement , but also a little fatigue, in brother's voice. He said he did not sleep much over the past two days, especially since the baby got home, as they are still adjusting to his cries at night and waking up at random hours. "It's always hard in the beginning," I said, but eventually they'll get used to it.

More and more, I am tempted to hop on a plane and fly to Europe to visit them, and to take this little being in my own arms....

Moving show

The last time I saw the Lion King was in London, in the Summer of 2002. It was actually with my ex, ironically a few days after we broke up. It was a bit awkward, and we went to the show as planned. In the end, it was an amazing performance, my first musical experience, and brought to live an all time favourite Disney movie, many songs ad rhythms of which I knew by heart from hours and hours of playing and replaying the cassette I once owned.

I went again, with two friends (one of whom is, ironically, now also an ex), tonight. I looked forward to the performance, and though it was good, perhaps the setting and small stage did not really do the spectacle much justice. Even so, a number of the songs made me tear, and at moments uncontrollably.

Other than the classic Circle of Life, there was this one, sung to Simba by his dad, just before he passes away, and sung again when Simba regains his pride and decides to return to the life and fate he had tried to run away from.

The lyrics spoke to me, and caused the tears to flow...

And a voice
With the fear of a child
Answers
....
He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
He lives in you"

Touched I was, deep down and the longings for dad resurfaced. I wiped away the tears, embarassed and unsure while I was even crying. Perhaps my friend, who sat behind me noticed, and I felt a few strokes of his hand on my back.

I thought of images of my nephew my brother had sent me... The circle of life indeed... we loose someone, but somewhere down the line, another blessing is added to our dull grey lives. This is the circle of life, birth and death, happiness and sorrow, loss and gain all repeating and counterweighing one another in a miraculous and mysterious way that makes the world turn around and keep on turning.

"In your reflection... he lives in you..." 
Though sad, there is a source of strength to be found in that sentence.

Baby boy

I saw the pictures and almost instantly began to tear... a beautiful baby boy was born today an hour or so ago, in the Netherlands, at Bronovo hospital right next to the home I grew up in.

Mum and I have been expecting him ever since we first heard about him some seven months ago. The moment has finally come, a week or so overdue, but never too late to bring much joy and excitement into our lives.

Big eyes, sweet face and cheeks, a head of hair, pale skinned, tiny little arms and legs...

I've not managed to reach my brother and don't know much details (I don't even know what he is called...), but the baby and mother seem to look alright. I do hope so, and the coming few hours and days will be critical, and I am thinking of them fondly and sending them my wellwishes....

Another addition to my family, and I can hardly contain my tears of happiness. It is so beautiful, so miraculous, so soon, so very, very touching... Why am I crying? Is it because this outweighs much of the pain and difficulties my family has faced over the past couple of years? Is it because I am now officially an uncle, and can't wait to shower the child with all my love and all the most wonderful gifts I could imagine getting him? Or is it because deep down, I too would like a child, to hold, to cherish, to love and to protect and guide as s/he grows up...?

It doesn't matter why. What matters is that the child is healthy, and that he will cement the loving relationship between my sister-in-law and my brother. What matters is that he will undoubtedly make their lives richer and complete with his cries, his smiles, his first little step, his first little word... What matters is that he will make our family, so spread out around the world, stronger and have more reason to be and get together...

I wonder if mum already knows about the wonderful news, as it's the middle of the night in Taiwan. I sent her a text message, jokingly congratulating her on becoming a grandma. I hope this news will bring her much, much joy and a grand reason to continue living life to the fullest, for she needs all the happiness and positiveness in the unsettling period to come...

And dad... this is what you have so often wanted, so often thought and talked about before. Though you are not here to witness the baby's birth into this world, though you cannot hold him close and listen to his chuckle, a part of you lives on in him...

From deep down inside, from my little heart, from across the Atlantic, I wish the baby  much strength, love and good health as he takes his first breaths of air...

I wish him much wisdom, kindness and compassion as he grows and learns the ways of the world...

I wish him much happiness, innocence and beauty, and hope that he will always be true to himself and to others around him. And I wish my sister-in-law and my brother much patience and wisdom as they begin their parenthood, and hope they will forever to provide the child with warmth, affection, and invaluable lessons to prepare him for the big wide world.

Happy birthday, my dear little nephew... happy birthday!

Pictures

One minute we were smiling, reminiscing as we looked at pictures from the past. The next my friend pulled away and stood with his arms folded looking vulnerable. His eyes became moist and red.

He rarely cries. "Stiff upper lip", as they call it, and Brits do it best. But his lips were wavering, and the tears were close to trickling down his eyes. I wanted to go and hold him... but I froze and felt uncomfortable.

What we had just seen and what had touched us all was the picture of a Valentine's bear he had sent me back in February this year. We had just become an item, and he put a lot of thought and effort into sending me a package stuffed with hearts and chocolates and lovely greeting cards. I was away at the time, accompanying mum through her treatments back then, and needed the support. I always burst into tears when I opened the package... tears of joy, tears of sadness and longing. Never before have I reiceved something so special, so thoughtful. Even more so because after all this time, we were finally together. Even though we were not together, I was his, and he was mine.

What made my ex tear? It is all over... all of that is over, and was ever so fragile to begin with. Behind the hearts, the cards, there were already the elements that would eventually lead to our break up. We had it all, or so it seemed, but even then, little did I know, he was torn and distracted by his feelings for someone else.

Perhaps it was that realisation... that it was so beautiful, it was all so wonderful, that we were both so happy together but can no longer be is painful to bear. Perhaps that is what made him tear? Perhaps that is what made me so numb, so numb... When you are numb you do not feel hurt, you do not feel at all.

I try not to think back. I try not to picture in details or imagine the words that were said or places we have been. Because it is difficult to reconcile the fact that from one moment to the next everything could break down. So fragile was our relationship, so fragile is life.

Ironically, when I was away, I sent him a porcelain doll-- one of a pair that was given to me by my brother and his wife at their wedding. I wanted my ex to hold on to and keep the doll safe until my return, until when the two porcelain dolls are reunited again. A very touching, symbolic and intimate gesture that was. He did receive the package, but accidentally the doll fell and broke into many, irreparable pieces. He immediately wrote to me to apologise, to tell me how terrible he felt... I said it was not a problem, because it is just a symbol, and not the real thing. Who knew... who knew at the time...

It took a little while for me to collect myself. And then I wrote him a little note, for old time's sake: let's not look at the past and cry, but smile.

And I do hope we can do that...

When that day comes...

"...if you get married in the future," mum said, "I've left [...] in the safety deposit. And there are some gold minted Canadian coins dad left behind. That is also for you too..." For several minutes told me about arrangements she had made. Just in case... when that day comes...

I struggled hard to contain myself. I said very little. I heard mum speak, but I was not really listening. Why is it so difficult, so painful to listen...? If I should get married... when will that day be? Will she be there to see me exchange vows with the person of my dreams, the person of my life, the one true love...?

"I can't be completely equal, but I've tried my best," she said, alluding to the fact that brother has received much more than she feels she is able to give me. He's bought a car, a house, had a big wedding... much of it "sponsored" by savings from our parents. And recently because of the impending birth of his son,  brother also received dad's life savings. It was dad's wish that he would get it and that the fund would go towards the child's "education fund".

"Please, use what little I'm going to leave as your start up capital for when you buy your first home..." She did not sound sad, nor did her voice waver. In fact, she sounded clear minded. Her voice was the voice of a mother who cares so much about her child that she wants to make sure she does everything in her power while she is around for the child to be safe and secure... "Be careful with the money, and remember how thrifty dad was when he was still here..."

I grunted in acknowledgement, because if I had to speak, I would betray the tears.

Deep down, I did not, could not care about the money or how fair it should all it. I should, and I am perhaps too foolish not to care, but if this is causing mum grief and worry, I could really  care less. In her current state of health, in her current stage of life, inheritance or how equal it should be divided, should be the last thing she should be thinking about.

In the end all I could muster were the weak words "Thank you..."





"I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel..."

 

Time alone...

My friend called me, and sensed something is wrong.

I have so much trouble hiding my emotions. In fact, tears are coming out now as I type. I have so much trouble hiding my emotions, most of all from him. He had a lovely evening planned with friends and asked me to join. I said I'm not in the mood, and he knew something was bothering me. He said he'll go out and then come by my place later.

But I don't want him to be there. I don't want support, I don't want comfort, at least not from him. I cannot go on and on being dependent on him. That is part of the problem, and part of why I'm crying... I know he cares deeply, and he has ever since we met. But he cannot continue caring so much, caring so much in a way that so difficult for me to accept. I can only accept this kind of compassion, care, and dare I even say love, from a lover... not from someone who is just a friend, however special he may be. It is just the way my mind works... It's my own problem, my own inability to accept a love greater than anything else that transcends being in a relationship. Simply, I cannot deal with this level of care and love from someone I am trying to get over, and from someone who is trying to get over me. That's why I withdraw, that's why I am trying to shun his care and his feelings.... maybe one day he will just stop trying, maybe one day he will stop caring so much, and can focus his energies and love on that one special person in his life.

I told him I really need my time alone, and that I want to be alone. I need to tell myself and know myself that I can deal with things no matter what and not be so dependent and reliant on one person, any one person-- least of all on him.

Part of shutting down, shutting away and turning inward is trying to find myself, trying to rediscover that inner strength and tolerance that has kept me going for so long. And I need, for my own sake, for my friend's sake, to know and prove to myself I can be fine and stand up strong by myself, however averse the circumstances.

In flux

Mum was avoiding the topic, but so was I. Just small talk... What have you been up to, what did you just eat for dinner... I told her I've been busy with my thesis and was about to go to tennis lessons.

Then I asked. Faced the facts as difficult as it may be. "How was the scan today?"

She was hesitant to talk about it. "Fine..." as usual, a lot of waiting and a whole afternoon gone. They inject you with trace amounts of a fluid radioactive marker that reveals "problem" areas better in order to make a better diagnosis.
Results due next Friday.

The doctor said they'll wait and see. But chemo is not ruled out. "Please don't rush home again. Focus on your work..." she told
me.

Inside, my heart sunk to another depth. I made my way yo tennis, my last lesson with this great coach I've had for over a month. For a while, while I was playing, I could distract myself.

But now the worries, the concerns are flooding back. Dates, plans, deadlines are spinning in my head, changing, in an unstable and uncertain flux...

I am again so torn, so weighed down by the latest news... And now it's different because I have to bear through this alone, can no longer rely on the support of my ex.

But life must go on somehow. It must go on somehow.

Changing expectations

At the end of the day, when all is done, when all has been said, there is only so much left.
And then you realise, whatever was there has changed, and the expectations must change with it.

And you are left to evaluate your relationship, your friendship together. Are we really so great together, so compatible, in whatever capacity, whether as friends or lovers? Or have I (have we?) been just too comfortable with what we know, because we do not know any better?

I would like to think we have been really wonderful together, and that we can still be very close, very intimate (in whatever capacity). I would like to believe and know that we mean a lot to one another, and that even little conflicts and tensions cannot sour that special bond.

But some events over the past two days, outbursts of temper and frictions between us, make me think twice. At times, I'm so lost as to what I did or said to provoke my friend that he can just suddenly raise his voice at me or lose patience. Yes, I am indecisive, yes, I can be stubborn and want to do things in a certain way... but I never (or rarely) mean to provoke, let alone try to antagonise someone.

And when someone raises his voice, or tells me he has lost patience with me, I freeze, I withdraw. It's not healthy, I know, for how am I supposed to deal with people out in the "real world" when I start to work or get into society? But, it reminds me of how I grew up being shouted at and having to put up with almost daily swearing and oral abuse. And it shocks me into freezing up, shutting down. It's a natural instinct, at least to me... an instinct of self-preservation and protection. I lose the will to defend myself, to want to explain, to respond. Instead I turn away.

And I feel myself doing that now...

Little notes

It's been a week or more since I last went to his apartment. I walked into it slowly, almost cautiously and looked around. It was cleaner, more organised than before. I looked around some more, and noticed that some things are missing.

In the last few months, or over the course of us knowing one another, I have this habit of leaving little notes behind. Often marked with a smiley, or signed with the cute and familiar name that my parents have called me since I was little. Little notes that say "Be happy!" or "Thank you for the dinner and wonderful night together"... Little pieces of paper that say and show that I care, and that say how very much I appreciate his love and care. little pieces of paper that I hope can touch his heart and make him smile and smile.

They have all gone now. I looked around, and nothing is left behind, swept up and gathered into a drawer, hidden from sight. I know I told him one day, soon after we broke up to clean up and said that it may help him move on and get past me. Even in my own house I did that, and gathered pieces of notes and cards I had written to him and he had left behind. But seeing it happen at his place feels strange, and his apartment is no longer the same. It's another sign that I dont mean the same to him, and can no longer play that role I used to play.

I remember when he broke up with his ex that there were still so many mementos and pics of his ex lying around, even months after their break up. I even went to help him do that one day, because he was crying and had difficulty taking things and putting them away...

Of course that was a four year relationship. But with me, it seemed like it was quicker and easier to clean away little things, little marks I had left behind. If it's any consolation, he did tell me the other day that he cried and cried as he was cleaning his apartment and as he came across all those notes and cards I wrote. Nobody has cared for him, supported him, stood by him like I have, he said. But it is just confusing and frustrating that the circumstances are such we can no longer be together...

Maybe that's not fair of me to conclude, but seeing the apartment again looks and feels so foreign and distant. It's no longer the same place I've found to be welcoming and familiar.

That night, though we went out with common friends and stayed out till late, I took the metro home. In the past I most likely would have stayed over at his place, but it just felt strange now, even though my heart wanted to follow him home and sleep next to him like before.

But things have changed, and ad cruel or difficult and painful as it may be, so too the heart must change.

Eulogy for Jack

The emotional down I experienced earlier today came pouring out again as I watched this eulogy from the children of Jack Layton to remember a simple man I never personally knew, who stood "for a world that would be more just, that would be more civil"...

Such heart-felt words and emotions in remembrance of a loving, caring dad who despite being famous and busy, made time for his children and grandchildren. That is just beautiful and extremely touching.
The children seem so composed, so together, and even made jokes and fun of their late dad... But behind the brave smiles, the red eyes, must lie a level of loss and hurt that is immeasurable and so very difficult to overcome..

Hallelujah


"I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah"

Why...?

Crying alone at the office. Nobody can see these tears... nobody can hear my howls and my sobbing...
For a moment, I feel so alone in the world, and the pain is unbearable, inconsolable.

The last half an hour or so I have been listening to my brother venting about mum and her behaviour while she was in Europe recently. He looked so upset, criticising mum in long tirade. She was never home, he complained, she was being difficult when it comes to cooking and eating, she just disappeared and hardly interacted with them. She was unfair and difficult to please. Whatever was done was not good enough or did not satisfy her...

I was quiet, and only tried to tell him that it is all in the past. "Please don't think about it too much, don't get upset. It is all a misunderstanding..." I told him mum is not well, and went into how she may need surgery, because none of the treatments she has been receiving has worked to reduce her tumour. I told him to try to imagine her fears, her feelings of being confronted with loneliness and illness, and death. "Just try imagine what she is going through... Try," I said.

When the conversation ended, I burst out in tears.
I could not control myself.

Why....?

Why so much anger?

Why so much misunderstanding?

As painful and sad as it is, I could feel the bitterness, the strong resentment towards mum. I know mum  can be difficult, but she is not well, she is our mother. Of course she can be wrong, of course she can do wrong and say the wrong things, and I am not trying to defend her or what happened, because I don't know exactly what happened. But it hurts to see brother's anger and lack of compassion or understanding for her condition and her health.

I am crying still... there is such pain inside I am not sure how to express them. My first instinct is to call my friend, to talk, to cry. But I can't do that any more. I can't always keep on running to him in times of need. We are past that. I need some other way of venting, of letting go of my frustrations.

And now, crying, and writing, is the only way I know how...

The morning after

I tried to pull away, to distance myself when he probed into my life, probed onto my mum's condition. I felt so  uncomfortable sharing intimate details and my problems with him now.

I know he cares about me deeply, as he always has. It's a care that  his love and our short lived relationship. But something inside just told me to withdraw, to back off and to erect barriers. I don't want him to be so concerned about me anymore. How is he supposed to move on and be with someone else, which is what he'd like, when he is so concerned about my life and wellbeing? How am I supposed to move on and let him go when I can't stand up ad deal with my own problems myself?

He started to tear when I slowly, but not in too much detail revealed mum's state of health. I was numb, not sad, not upset, and kept on saying to him I'm fine, I'll be fine. But for some reason he cried...

Was it for me, or for the fact that I was pushing him away after our intimate love making the night before?

We talked more in bed, a comfortable yet dangerous place, for it soon drew us in to yet another  indulgence of our bodies and our (overly high?) sex drives.

The questions, doubts and discomfort of being around him are still there. I don't know how he feels about it, but as much as I'd like to be close to him, I also want to get away, to get some distance- which proves difficult when we sleep next to each other.

The rest of the day, we spent talking and resting in one another's arms and embrace, drowning in the warmth and comfort we have always managed to provide for one another. And we took a long walk together, laughing, chatting, joking. It was beautiful, really was and reminded me somehow of a fresh beginning, like we were in those days of just being best of friends who love each other's company so much.

But deep down inside, I can't speak for him, at least for me, there is a little distance. In these strange circumstances we find ourselves in, in a situation where he is having strong feelings for someone else and where I am still having lingering feelings for him, there has to be more distance.  We cannot sustain this, we cannot always tread so closely between beings friends and make-believe lovers without either one or both of us being hurt.

Back to the hospital

More sores, more pains. The radiotherapy was supposed to last for half a year or so, but it's only been three months, and mum is feeling the pains returning, and feeling her motor skills in her arm are getting weaker.

She went to the doctor today, and the latest
 blood analysis revealed an elevated CEA, which means the cancer cell count is increased.

More scans are scheduled, and an appointment with the neurosurgeon is necessary.

Another treatment using chemotherapy may be due. So soon after it just stopped... So soon!

And perhaps, at a date unknown, surgery is essential to prevent the tumour in the spine area from compressing further on her nerves, which may eventually lead to paralysis.

She sounded calm and collected, though I am not sure how she is really feeling. Frightened? Fearful? Resigned? Hopeless? Tormented by her illness and by the encroaching uncertainties of more and more treatments and a painful death?

My heart cries for her... my heart feels for her, and yet there is so very little I can do.

She kept on reasurring me, telling me not to worry, to focus on my life and making something out of it. I asked her how she felt. "I am used to it," she said

 How can anyone be used to all that waiting? All the uncertainties of what will happen to your body? How can she be so calm, and keep on reassuring me not to get too worried, and to brave it all alone?

Looks like my life may be undergoing yet another unpredictable spin. She told me to stay put, not to worry about her, no matter what. "Come back in January, just for the new year and for dad's commermoration. Don't come back for me..."

But how can I just sit here if something major happens to her, like a life-changing surgery or  a turn for the worst?

Disjointed, confused, and my god, am I cracking up deep down inside. How much more can I take? How much can my heart wrench and cry and shudder in fear?

Cracking up once more, and this time with just my own arms and strength to hold onto.

Ich bin ich

What am I doing? Rewarding my friend with my body, my time listening to his pursuit of a love affair?

He stayed the night, and told me the latest developments between him and the boy. In a way I don't want to hear details, but in a masochistic way, I want to know too... To know where they are, how my friend is coping or feeling. Or perhaps I just want to confirm or deny whether there is still a chance between us, somehow.

And again, we ended up in bed. Sex has never been anything short of phenomenal, and yesterday we went further than before, even though it caused me some pain and bleeding.

But we were caught up in lust, longed for one anothers bodies, longed for climax and that comfort of sleeping next to one another and hugging. So I gave in to my desires, against my better judgment perhaps. At one point i asked him to look at me in the eyes...

We looked deeply into one another's eyes, and in my mind I asked myself whether he saw me, whether he was really fully there with me at that very moment. "Ich bin ich" (I am I) I said, referring to the lyrics of a German song I let him listen to. the night was so very intense, our bodies vibrating in sync, connecting on a physical and metaphysical level like they have not for a long, long time. It was so very intimate, and I savored the moments, the touch and warmth of his arms, his breath on my face, the groans of wild pleasure and ecstasy...

We fell asleep together, I put my arms around him, spooned him like so many times before till he began to twitch a little, a sign I know that he is close if not already sleeping. I rolled back to my side of the bed, pulled my blanket over me, but felt a little empty inside...

Strange mood

Something is up. A bunch of us are having dinner at my place, and he suddenly had to leave. "I'll tell you later," he said as he hurried off. He would bot return until half an hour later.

I tried hard to muster a smile and chat with my other friends. But deep down, I imagined him communicating with the boy he feels so deeply for. Are they together now? Are they sweet talking and whispering as they video chat? I don't know. But the thought is eating me inside. So soon after we broke up, and he can just move into another relationship? And he got so upset the other day when I went to see a  couchsurfer I met a month ago and  who happened to be in town for the night again. He got so upset he even asked whether I was going home with the guy, who I only met and spoke to for a couple of hours!

I don't know what's happening, he's just in my bed trying to compose himself, an waiting for me to go back and chat.

I don't know what will be said, what else will be revealed but I feel nauseated already and fear it will be another long, sleepless and restless night....

Lag

In an effort to shield myself, I decided to stop publishing my blog entries immediately. I'm still writing, but I'm saving the drafts for publication until a week or two later.

One reason to do this is because before, my ex would often read my blog and if something is bothering me or if I'm feeling down or upset, he would immediately call or rush over to comfort me. I appreciated that greatly, because nobody has ever done anything as touching and caring for me, especially in my time of need. But since we broke up and since I wanted to keep some distance from him, at least for the coming period, I don't think it's healthy for either of us to be so involved in one another's lives so much.

I told him I still care deeply about him and his wellbeing, and I know he cares deeply about my life and what is affecting me emotionally, especially surrounding the condition of my mother. But I just don't feel right or comfortable being so dependent on him for support, for comfort, especially if he is to go into a new relationship. Imagine what the other person would think if my ex is constantly reading my blog and getting worried and wanting to come comfort me whenever I am down and upset by something (which seems to be often)! It's not fair... it's not right.  I don't want to distract him and keep part of his heart and mind with me and make him feel divided and conflicted when he enters into another relationship. That was what tortured him the most, and he does not need to go through that again. Best is if can let go of me, be less concerned about me so that we have the time and space to adjust to the new relationship we find ourselves in.

It's not that I want a clean break and to start hiding news of my life. I still very much want him to be around, and I think he wants me to be around too... but I just feel we can no longer have that instant care and provision of care and support like we used to at this moment.

Maybe it will change one day soon... but when he is trying to move on and so desperately wants to start a relationship with someone else, the last thing he should be thinking of and worrying about is my feelings and my wellbeing.

So this blog will continue, but there will just be a little delay in the updates.

Looking back

Part of my application for Canadian Permanent Residence requires me to list all the countries I have traveled to since the age of 18 (or in the last ten years, whichever is first). They require the period I spent there, and the purpose of my trip, which I'm guess is a way to know whether I have been to "suspect" destinations and had "suspect" dealings with people or organisations.

So I started recalling the names of all the places I have visited... Berlin, Barcelona, Taipei (numerous, numerous times...), Tel Aviv, Singapore, Bangkok, Prague... the list goes on and on. I've had to look back at the stamped pages of my passport, and also revisit some of my earlier blogs to remember where I have been, and what I have done.

I became nostalgic... I was young then, or at least younger. I was untouched, inexperienced and still discovering myself and the world.  Those seemed like such carefree days. Traveling, visiting places, excited and spurred on by the sense of adventure and discovery which I seem to have lost.

I was lonely, sure, and I had family problems and my parents' health issues to deal with, of course... But life seemed to be so simple back then, back then when I was longing for love, and yet unsure what it all meant... back then when I had such a beautiful image and dreams of being in love, and did not realise what it feels to be heartbroken and to miss that sense connection and closeness you share with someone you have grown accustomed to over time.

And then I read up how my friend and I first met and connected, how I first started to have feelings for him, and how that developed further through our trips and adventures together. Sweet memories, sweet sweet smiles and laughter.

When you look back, life seems always to be so rosy. But of course it wasn't all that rosy, and my writings from five, six years ago can attest to that. The insecurities, the fears, the longings are still around, perhaps more ingrained today then before with the passage of time, or perhaps less burdensome now because I have grown used to it all. But every stage in life, every period is a process of learning, of living. And it amazes me when I look / read back and realise, and remind, myself how far I have come, and what I have really accomplished in in my life.

That means I can go on and do even more.

Time...

We hugged, hold one another tightly. I lost myself in the scent of his body, stroked the back of his head, his hair, and I could hear him groan in pleasure, and feel my bulge against his.

We hugged, I closed my eyes and wished that moment would last,  would come as  naturally as it always has felt... There is nothing more addictive, nothing more empowering to be in his embrace, to feel his hands and arm wrapped around my body. I may hug other people, for I love hugs and giving them, but hugging him is different. It draws out feelings, memories, and even tears. It fills me with such strength, such courage, and brings me to the here and now as well as a deep meditation could.

We stood in the office, arms locked around one another for several minutes. I felt him smell me, pull me in close and hold me closer. With eyes closed, I felt his breathing, smelt his breath. suddenly, admittedly though half expecting it, wanting it, I felt his lips on mine. Ever so gently, ever so softly, our lips touched and there was a spark of electricity. It felt like the first kiss, soft, true, intimate.

Earlier he had written to me, about how he broke into tears alone when he discovered a card I had written to him. Not just cards, but there are many notes, messages, scribbles and smileys I have left behind at his place. He wrote how much he appreciated them, appreciated my presence in his life, and how he is confused why he could not want to have something so special. It is frustrating, he said, to know that there is so much potential between us, but the timing and the circumstances are all wrong...

I was touched by his message, and later was touched by how he had bought a lovely teddy bear for me accompanied with lovely messages inside.

I wrote back, have been wanting to do that since I had that chance to get away and be not around him. As much as I don't want to, my mind tells me I need some time and distance from him. It's best for him, especially as he wants to resolve his feelings for the other person, to move on and to forget about me and what we had. It's best for me, because I'm afraid of being more hurt...

I said i don't know now how I should behave and interact with him, now that we are broken up. What do you do when you were first friends who became lovers an then break up? Do you go back to being friends, just friends just like that? I don't know, I've never had to deal with it, and I may be so naive in this way...

I would like that closeness, that friendship, that intimacy. But it hurts us both, hinders both our abilities to move on. And I told him I am not sure, at least in the near future, whether I can face him should he and the other boy get back together. I do wish he can rediscover the happiness and purity of emotions he found with the other person, because he deserves that after what I have put him through... But for my own (selfish!) sake, I'm not sure if I can deal with that, at least not at this moment. Especially with my tight schedules for the coming months, and the lingering troubles surrounding mum's health.

Am I such a terrible friend because I want distance, because I want time and space to protect my own skin and salvage every bit of my being I'm struggling to hold   together? I don't know, and I don't know what he felt after reading my message. Was he disappointed in me, because he has always been able to differentiate being friends and being in love with me?  He has always been there for me first an foremost as a friend, and he has alwad wished me happiness despite it being painful for him to see me go on dates. Why am I unable to do that? is it because i'm so petty and so concerned about my own feelings above all else? Is it because I don't want to feel that pain, that dee deep cut when he told me how much he feels for the other person, how much he wants to be with him, even during the time we were together?

I need to heal, to mourn, to get past all this, but  I do not wish to push him away, do not wish to create unnecessary distance between us or put our strong, beautiful friendship into jeopardy... I love him still, care about him much, and cannot easily get him out of my mind, even though I am unsure at times whether these feelings are mutual. If they aren't, I must dilute them, make them fade and eventually disappear.  If all that remains out of all this is a solid, solid friendship for life, then so be it. And if we are really meant to be together, if we are really so compatible and feel so deeply for one another, then one day perhaps we will come together again.

But I need time, I need space. And we both need the time and space apart to perhaps realise how much we mean for one another, how much we care about and love one another, if that.

Rest in Peace, Jack

I was still half asleep when the news broke. "Jack Layton, the leader of the opposition, has died".

Shock and surprise overcame me. So soon, so abrupt. Just a month ago, he announced he would retreat for a while to continue his struggle for life. He promised to return to Parliament in Autumn. But he lost that fight... Another victim of cancer-- that cruel, blind and crippling, crippling illness...

My thoughts went to his family, his wife, who is of Chinese descent.  I didn't know him personally, but his energy, his smile, his being "Just Jack",  his politics, and the clean way he conducted it, appealed to me, and appealed to so many millions of Canadians.

And there was the cancer that connected me to him even more. Despite his illness, he had faith in life. He campaigned hard, he believed in and stood for change and hope and optimism. He led his party to an unprecedented victory with a belief greater social justice and equality in Canada.

And all that ended. A cancer of unknown origin took that all away.    I can only imagine what he and his family went through during the treatment... The hard prayers, the elevated hopes, the consuming fears, and the pain of realising at one point there is nothing more that can be done...

Even so, despite his own pain and suffering, in his last letter to Canadians, he wrote:

"To other Canadians who are on journeys to defeat cancer and to live their lives, I say this: please don’t be discouraged that my own journey hasn’t gone as well as I had hoped. You must not lose your own hope. Treatments and therapies have never been better in the face of this disease. You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey, as I have done this summer."

Though i never met him, never spoke to him, and can hardly do justice to all the things he has done and said for people around him, for this country, to me he was a courageous person, with conviction and determiation till the very end.

Rest in peace, Mr Layton...

Almost home

Why is it that the closer I get to home, the more clouded and distracted my mind becomes? While I was biking over the weekend, it was so easily to forget, so easily to just be in the moment.

Yet now I feel the doubts, the fears, the speculation and annoyances creep up and subsume my mind slowly....

And I am not even home yet!

Lingering troubles

It's been a few days since I last spoke to mum, and I finally managed to reach her, despite the poor connection and having to call back many times because the call kept disconnecting (what do you expect being out in the woods of Peribonka?)

I sensed something was wrong, for mum was short in her response and kept on wanting to hang up quickly. Then she finally admitted two things on her mind...

First of all, her arm aches are returning again, and it feels now as if she never went through the radiotherapy. That distresses her, and really pulls me down, but there's little I can do about it but worry and wish she would not feel  so much pain. Imagine that pain, that constant source of discomfort an having to live with it every waking moment of the day (and night)... She's going to consult the neurosurgeon, but that could potential point to just one solution: life risking surgery that will take months of recovery...
I do not want to think of that now, and I am sure she no more than o don't want to...

Then, she detailed her latest argument on the phone with my brother just yesterday. She wanted to let him/ them know how she felt really marginalized and neglected while she was staying with them in Europe, but brother apparently struck back and said that it's all because mum is so difficult to please and serve. That caused her so much anger and sent her blood pressure soaring (that's how she described it).

How disappointed I was listening to this all, and even in the tranquility of the forest, I felt my mind and mood cloud over.

Even after a week or so of being at home, mum still cannot let go of how she felt she was treated, and brother seems to have so little thought for her, who really cannot, should not, for the sake of her health and not aggravating her illness, have any unnecessary stress or tension.

"Please, mum" i said, "Just live your life and take care of yourself. Please don't let the past linger..." I said what I could say, I showed her the care and love I could offer from this distance, and I need to make peace with that, however inadequate what i have said or done may feel like.

Sudden change

It all came so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and I felt so miserable and unprepared. I let out a load groan, and felt like things were turning so sour because it was all so rough and  painful to deal with.

But at moments when you are thrown in a sticky situation, you adapt, you change, you mend your plans and desires to accommodate a new  reality you did not forsee. And at times, it turns out to be a pleasant surprise, and you enjoy the process at the end of the day.

The rain came so quickly we were all unprepared. Though we had seen the signs, seen the dense dark clouds looming tall and approaching fast, we thought we could outrun and outsmart nature. But no, the rain bombarded us like pellets, and soon we were drenched, and had to hide to protect ourselves from the rain, the thunder and lightning, and from the frightening blowing wind.

Originally we wanted to head to a camp site deep inside a scenic national park, but the rain dampened our hopes and spirits, and we just decided to call it a day and find anywhere to rest for the night. Keeping warm and keeping dry was our priority, and we sought hard for a place to stay.

Upon  a little town we stumbled, and we rode into the camping ground and inquired about the availability of a "deluxe" tent. We were in luck, ad soon we dried ourselves (and our luggage) inside the cosy tent for four which had its own little kitchen.

We settled in, and with a fellow traveller I went to pick up groceries from a local convent store. There was very little choice except for canned veggies and pasta, but with some garlic and butter, we soon fixed up an amazing dinner and sat down to enjoy the cool evening over ases of wine. The food was so simple, yet perhaps the hunger and tiredness, it felt and tasted like it was a luxurious meal at a fancy restaurant, and we chatted and laughed into the night.

Such simple surroundings, in the middle of the woods, the rain splashing on our roof, the sounds of crickets calling and/or laughter. Such simple joy and fun there is to be had.

And all this because, or in spite,  of a sudden change in our plans, and a dramatic change in the weather.