Homecoming
3 Dec
Not many know about my return home. My mum knows, my brother and his
family know, and two friends also know too. And I asked them not to
tell. As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm still home in montreal,
going about my routine...
A main part of the reason why this trip is done in (almost complete)
secrecy is because I'm saving up and building up the suspense and the
curiosity till the day I surprise my friend.
Another is because I'm always wary not to advertise too much nowadays
where I'm going, because people might just have the wrong impression of
me. Yes, I travel a lot. Yes, I have the means to do so and don't have
to think too much about money and obligations like work, but I travel
mainly to visit family, and not to go on so exotic vacation and indulge
in luxury. And to me that's always a reason to travel, or at least I
tell myself so.
My brother insisted on picking me up at the airport. Not just in the
car, but he insisted on going inside to the arrivals terminal to greet
me as I come out. The last time someone did that was my ex, in
Vancouver, and it is a welcome, wonderful feeling.
I saw them almost immediately, and they greeted me with a smile. My
sister-in-law stood next to my brother, who had a little baby his arms.
"Hello! Who's this?" I asked jokingly.
My nephew, my beautiful, beautiful nephew, whom I've only seen in
pictures and videos. Now, for the first time, I was seeing and stroking
softly on the cheeks for the first time in his life, for the first time
in my life. My heart lit up in a way I never imagined possible. Right in
front of, the source of joy in many people's lives, especially that of
mum's. I smiled and stroked his thin hair while he looked at me with
big, curious eyes.
I gave my brother an semi hug, awkward as he had my nephew, and I gave
my sister-in-law three kisses on the cheeks. "Welcome home to Holland!"
she wished me. I looked around the terminal building... At the big
Heineken advertising in the distance, at the bouquets of tulips at the
florist, the pungent smell of coffee in air, mixed with a cacophony of
chatter in Dutch In the background. All these familuar sights and sounds
of home, triggering memories of my youth and childhood to flood gently
flow back. Home again, after a year and a half away...
Best of all, it felt wonderful to be reunited with family...
03 December 2011
London calling
LHR-AMS
3 Dec
What to do when you have two hours to kill at the airport? I guess you could wander around, walk all over the terminal building(s)... Or you could make a mad dash to downtown London and then back again. And I chose to do the latter.
I got off the plane, and was half expecting my ex to be lurking around. Luckily he wasn't. So I made my way from terminal 3 to terminal 1 (just do that I could 'disappear' off the radar and make it harder to track, if I was being tracked...) then to terminal 5 to get my boarding pass for my onward connection. It was on the train between the terminals that I got the idea. 15 minutes to downtown London on the Heathrow Express, which runs every 15minutes. So the longest it would take is only half an hour. I'd be pushing it, but i could do it. And there is one place I've been wanting to go back, and that's my alma mater: SOAS.
So i took the chance I had an hour or so from the moment I boarded the train. Heathrow to Paddington, change on the Hammersmith and City line to King's Cross / St Pancras, transfer on the Piccadilly Line to Russell Square. I know these routes off of my head. I can picture the colours and the tube trains and connecting stations.
So many familiar places, signs, buildings... The streets, smells, the crinkling and creaking sounds of the tube. A decade ago I went to London to study. And look at me now, ten years later. How far have I come? I felt like I've come full circle to be back where I was then, and that I've grown and matured so much...
How strange it felt to be standing in front of the very building I entered almost everyday for three years. There is a sign that marks the entrance to my university. The symbol is of a big green tree in full bloom. Knowledge and wisdom thriving through time. A school originally established to train diplomats and colonial officers at a time when the sun never set over the vast stretch of the British Empire. Today, it is a breeding ground for critical studies of the developing world, for staunch opponents of the existing (oligarchical and oppressive) economic and political world order.
Those three years spent at SOAS certainly stimulated my mind and thinking, fertilised the left leaning tendencies and great interests I take in the lives and affairs of the world at large, as seen from non western-centric point of views. There were banners and weather-worn posters on the walls and lamp posts on campus. Protests, activist movements were, and still apparently are, the norm at this little college in the heart of London.
I took a picture and quickly turned around. 10am. The gate closes at 1120. So I rushed, the same route back. I filed into the crowded tube station at Russell Square, waited for the elevator to take dozens of other waiting passengers 15 storeys underground. Luckily I managed to hop onto the eastbound train to Cockfosters before the door closed. I caught my breath briefly before I rushed and rushed up the long flight of escalators at King's Cross to transfer on the line toward Paddington station. 1010am. Train leaves in 10 minutes. If I missed it, I would be really pushing it with the time. I still needed to get through security, and who knows how long that will take.
1018... And the tube slowly, slowly pulled into Paddington station. Why does everything seem so slow when you're in a hurry? Why do I get myself into hairy situations (or perhaps adventures, however you'd like to see it...) like this, when I could have been sitting quietly at the airport terminal and just waited to board the plane? Even the check in counter man told me there's not enough time to go anywhere, and told me to just stay put and wait for the plane.
But I like a bit of excitement, I guess.. I want to do things that are against the grain and unpredictable, and totally crazy even, things when you look back will make you smile, and somewhat proud, and think: "Did I really do that??" I mean who in their right mind would go to downtown London and back in one hour just to pose in front of the university where they used to study? I would. And I did.
1019, I grabbed my carry on with my two hands, snaked through the crowd who were taking their leisurely time. Up and down the flights of stairs I ran, simultaneously eyeing quickly the monitor which displayed train departure times and destinations...
Heathrow... Yes! Heathrow Terminal 5. Platform 6. In 2 minutes. There the train was. I could see it.
I set down carry on, and let it roll. The four wheels grumbled loudly behind me as I dashed down the platform. Is this it? Is this the train? Get onboard. Just get onboard!
So onboard the train I jumped. And within a minute, barely with the time catch my breath, the intercom sounded. "Mind the doors, mind the closing doors. Heathrow Express to Terminal 5".
I was onboard. Sweaty, hot,out of breath, my heart racing rapidly, but I was finally on board. And in my camera were the classic shots of me and of a teddy bear posing in front of my alma mater.
Well done. Mission accomplished...
3 Dec
What to do when you have two hours to kill at the airport? I guess you could wander around, walk all over the terminal building(s)... Or you could make a mad dash to downtown London and then back again. And I chose to do the latter.
I got off the plane, and was half expecting my ex to be lurking around. Luckily he wasn't. So I made my way from terminal 3 to terminal 1 (just do that I could 'disappear' off the radar and make it harder to track, if I was being tracked...) then to terminal 5 to get my boarding pass for my onward connection. It was on the train between the terminals that I got the idea. 15 minutes to downtown London on the Heathrow Express, which runs every 15minutes. So the longest it would take is only half an hour. I'd be pushing it, but i could do it. And there is one place I've been wanting to go back, and that's my alma mater: SOAS.
So i took the chance I had an hour or so from the moment I boarded the train. Heathrow to Paddington, change on the Hammersmith and City line to King's Cross / St Pancras, transfer on the Piccadilly Line to Russell Square. I know these routes off of my head. I can picture the colours and the tube trains and connecting stations.
So many familiar places, signs, buildings... The streets, smells, the crinkling and creaking sounds of the tube. A decade ago I went to London to study. And look at me now, ten years later. How far have I come? I felt like I've come full circle to be back where I was then, and that I've grown and matured so much...
How strange it felt to be standing in front of the very building I entered almost everyday for three years. There is a sign that marks the entrance to my university. The symbol is of a big green tree in full bloom. Knowledge and wisdom thriving through time. A school originally established to train diplomats and colonial officers at a time when the sun never set over the vast stretch of the British Empire. Today, it is a breeding ground for critical studies of the developing world, for staunch opponents of the existing (oligarchical and oppressive) economic and political world order.
Those three years spent at SOAS certainly stimulated my mind and thinking, fertilised the left leaning tendencies and great interests I take in the lives and affairs of the world at large, as seen from non western-centric point of views. There were banners and weather-worn posters on the walls and lamp posts on campus. Protests, activist movements were, and still apparently are, the norm at this little college in the heart of London.
I took a picture and quickly turned around. 10am. The gate closes at 1120. So I rushed, the same route back. I filed into the crowded tube station at Russell Square, waited for the elevator to take dozens of other waiting passengers 15 storeys underground. Luckily I managed to hop onto the eastbound train to Cockfosters before the door closed. I caught my breath briefly before I rushed and rushed up the long flight of escalators at King's Cross to transfer on the line toward Paddington station. 1010am. Train leaves in 10 minutes. If I missed it, I would be really pushing it with the time. I still needed to get through security, and who knows how long that will take.
1018... And the tube slowly, slowly pulled into Paddington station. Why does everything seem so slow when you're in a hurry? Why do I get myself into hairy situations (or perhaps adventures, however you'd like to see it...) like this, when I could have been sitting quietly at the airport terminal and just waited to board the plane? Even the check in counter man told me there's not enough time to go anywhere, and told me to just stay put and wait for the plane.
But I like a bit of excitement, I guess.. I want to do things that are against the grain and unpredictable, and totally crazy even, things when you look back will make you smile, and somewhat proud, and think: "Did I really do that??" I mean who in their right mind would go to downtown London and back in one hour just to pose in front of the university where they used to study? I would. And I did.
1019, I grabbed my carry on with my two hands, snaked through the crowd who were taking their leisurely time. Up and down the flights of stairs I ran, simultaneously eyeing quickly the monitor which displayed train departure times and destinations...
Heathrow... Yes! Heathrow Terminal 5. Platform 6. In 2 minutes. There the train was. I could see it.
I set down carry on, and let it roll. The four wheels grumbled loudly behind me as I dashed down the platform. Is this it? Is this the train? Get onboard. Just get onboard!
So onboard the train I jumped. And within a minute, barely with the time catch my breath, the intercom sounded. "Mind the doors, mind the closing doors. Heathrow Express to Terminal 5".
I was onboard. Sweaty, hot,out of breath, my heart racing rapidly, but I was finally on board. And in my camera were the classic shots of me and of a teddy bear posing in front of my alma mater.
Well done. Mission accomplished...
Hide and seek
Hide and seek
Just prior to landing at LHR. Circling the airspace above heathrow for over twenty minutes already, and still waiting for permission to land...
I'm a bit anxious, to be honest. I don't know how it never crossed my mid until last night when I went to see my friend off at the airport that we would be arriving at London Heathrow at around the same time. He would be flying in from Toronto, whereas I would land around an hour or so later from Montreal. I have a feeling he'll probably try to reach me or even call me as soon as he lands, and when he does he'll get the message that my phone is off. Which may add to his suspicions that I'm flying. Maybe he'll just stand at the gate and wait for me to get off to surprise me...
If he does that, then so much for my surprise of showing up at his doorstep in a few day's time... It's been hard keeping this secret operation a secret. Inquisitive as my friend is, he's been asking lot of questions about what I'm planning, what I'll be doing while he is away. I've been vague, but at times, just to whet his curiosity and get him wondering, I've been dropping hints here and there. In fact, if he had to look carefully, on the calendar in his office, I had written "LHR" in red ink on 2 December, the day of my flight. And on a piece of paper he had used to explain to me the reasons why airlines charge different rates for routes, and how indirect routes are always cheaper than direct ones. As he likes to call it, I've been talking in "riddles and rhymes" and at times giving misleading signals about what I'm doing over the next few days...
So it'll be interesting how the next four hours till my onward flight to AMS pan out. It'll be a game of hide (and seek, if he's onto something and will try to seek me out...). I know he's inside the terminal building, probably walking around, or maybe waiting outside my arrivals gate to see if I'll walk off the plane. I'll have to be ever vigilant, and swiftly move through the terminal buildings unseen and unheard. One thing I can't do, which I've always wanted is go to the arrivals lounge, as I heard great things about it. But chances are, my friend might be there too. So I guess I'll have to spend the next few hours on the move, wander around the airport so I can't be traced or found. I mean what are the chances of two people bumping into each other in a five big terminal buildings with thousands of departing and arriving passengers and dozens of flights taking off and landing in the next few hours? We may be in the general vicinity of one another, but if I play it right, I can sneakily slip onto my connecting flight undiscovered...
It's like a game of cat and mouse, and I'm the mouse (literally, i was born in the year of the mouse/rat). It's a game, not just confined to a little board, but on a large, worldwide scale, involving planes, and great distances. And that's the excitement and fun part of it all...
Hiding and seeking, half way across the world, with boundless possibilities and places to hide. Great big and little surprises and clever strategies trying to outsmart the other person.
Oh, the devious plot is coming together...! It's so sweet and clever when things finally come together!
Just prior to landing at LHR. Circling the airspace above heathrow for over twenty minutes already, and still waiting for permission to land...
I'm a bit anxious, to be honest. I don't know how it never crossed my mid until last night when I went to see my friend off at the airport that we would be arriving at London Heathrow at around the same time. He would be flying in from Toronto, whereas I would land around an hour or so later from Montreal. I have a feeling he'll probably try to reach me or even call me as soon as he lands, and when he does he'll get the message that my phone is off. Which may add to his suspicions that I'm flying. Maybe he'll just stand at the gate and wait for me to get off to surprise me...
If he does that, then so much for my surprise of showing up at his doorstep in a few day's time... It's been hard keeping this secret operation a secret. Inquisitive as my friend is, he's been asking lot of questions about what I'm planning, what I'll be doing while he is away. I've been vague, but at times, just to whet his curiosity and get him wondering, I've been dropping hints here and there. In fact, if he had to look carefully, on the calendar in his office, I had written "LHR" in red ink on 2 December, the day of my flight. And on a piece of paper he had used to explain to me the reasons why airlines charge different rates for routes, and how indirect routes are always cheaper than direct ones. As he likes to call it, I've been talking in "riddles and rhymes" and at times giving misleading signals about what I'm doing over the next few days...
So it'll be interesting how the next four hours till my onward flight to AMS pan out. It'll be a game of hide (and seek, if he's onto something and will try to seek me out...). I know he's inside the terminal building, probably walking around, or maybe waiting outside my arrivals gate to see if I'll walk off the plane. I'll have to be ever vigilant, and swiftly move through the terminal buildings unseen and unheard. One thing I can't do, which I've always wanted is go to the arrivals lounge, as I heard great things about it. But chances are, my friend might be there too. So I guess I'll have to spend the next few hours on the move, wander around the airport so I can't be traced or found. I mean what are the chances of two people bumping into each other in a five big terminal buildings with thousands of departing and arriving passengers and dozens of flights taking off and landing in the next few hours? We may be in the general vicinity of one another, but if I play it right, I can sneakily slip onto my connecting flight undiscovered...
It's like a game of cat and mouse, and I'm the mouse (literally, i was born in the year of the mouse/rat). It's a game, not just confined to a little board, but on a large, worldwide scale, involving planes, and great distances. And that's the excitement and fun part of it all...
Hiding and seeking, half way across the world, with boundless possibilities and places to hide. Great big and little surprises and clever strategies trying to outsmart the other person.
Oh, the devious plot is coming together...! It's so sweet and clever when things finally come together!
YUL-LHR
YUL-LHR
Another flight, another night spent on the plane. I know I promised myself I wouldn't travel, but here I am flying away again...
At least the flight is pretty empty, and I can stretch out over two seats, and hopefully catch a wink before the five hours or so is up. I feel like I haven't really slept much over the past two weeks or so. Just rushing here and there, and at night working till late in the morning, either on my thesis, or over the last couple of days, on the special scrapbook for my ex's birthday. The lack of sleep, the tiredness and red eyes are all worth it, for finally i have (almost) completed my thesis and therefore also the degree I began over three years ago.
It means a heavy burden off my shoulders, and time to move onto something else... the tiredness, lack of sleep and red eyes are worth it also if only to see the beautiful surprise on my friend's face when he pieces together the little surprises and clues to realise what I've been planning (plotting!) all these months, if only to make him smile again, especially after a lot of hurt and pain I've caused him, especially what we've both endured in recent times.
Of course, I'm not just going to surprise him at his house. I'm also journeying to see my brother and his new family, and importantly see my nephew for the first time. How special is that.... I used to get so excited and become so touched by my godson, but imagine now I have a baby in my own family, a baby who is related to me, and in some distant way, a part of me.
This afternoon, I rushed to the bookstore to pick out some gifts for my nephew. At the baby section, I just grabbed these colourful and beautiful and cute books. I didn't even look at the prices, and just put them all into my basket. It ended up costing over a hundred dollars, but I didn't think too much of it...
Because it's for my nephew... Because I want him, even though I've never even met him yet, to have the best of everything, and since the day i learned if his existence, i vowed silently that I'll try and provide what I can to give him a boost in life (on top of what my brother and sister-in-law provide to him, of course.) Since my brother asked me the other day to pick out some English language books, I've been browsing online for them and getting excited myself by all the possible things I could get for him...
And soon, I'll deliver it all into my nephew's hands.
Another flight, another night spent on the plane. I know I promised myself I wouldn't travel, but here I am flying away again...
At least the flight is pretty empty, and I can stretch out over two seats, and hopefully catch a wink before the five hours or so is up. I feel like I haven't really slept much over the past two weeks or so. Just rushing here and there, and at night working till late in the morning, either on my thesis, or over the last couple of days, on the special scrapbook for my ex's birthday. The lack of sleep, the tiredness and red eyes are all worth it, for finally i have (almost) completed my thesis and therefore also the degree I began over three years ago.
It means a heavy burden off my shoulders, and time to move onto something else... the tiredness, lack of sleep and red eyes are worth it also if only to see the beautiful surprise on my friend's face when he pieces together the little surprises and clues to realise what I've been planning (plotting!) all these months, if only to make him smile again, especially after a lot of hurt and pain I've caused him, especially what we've both endured in recent times.
Of course, I'm not just going to surprise him at his house. I'm also journeying to see my brother and his new family, and importantly see my nephew for the first time. How special is that.... I used to get so excited and become so touched by my godson, but imagine now I have a baby in my own family, a baby who is related to me, and in some distant way, a part of me.
This afternoon, I rushed to the bookstore to pick out some gifts for my nephew. At the baby section, I just grabbed these colourful and beautiful and cute books. I didn't even look at the prices, and just put them all into my basket. It ended up costing over a hundred dollars, but I didn't think too much of it...
Because it's for my nephew... Because I want him, even though I've never even met him yet, to have the best of everything, and since the day i learned if his existence, i vowed silently that I'll try and provide what I can to give him a boost in life (on top of what my brother and sister-in-law provide to him, of course.) Since my brother asked me the other day to pick out some English language books, I've been browsing online for them and getting excited myself by all the possible things I could get for him...
And soon, I'll deliver it all into my nephew's hands.
02 December 2011
Rush, rush, rush
Everything so last minute, so rushed. Trying to catch my breath, trying
to find a moment of calm amidst the hectic moments of worry and
insecurity.
I sent my friend off last night, and tonight I'll be at the airport again to send myself off. I promised myself I wouldn't travel until January, but a number of reasons "make" me now sit in the metro with two pieces of luggage on my way into school early in the morning. Or at least, they are reasons I tell myself can justify me Jetting away again...
My ex, even though he's my ex has so often expressed hope that I could go visit him at his home. And somehow, I feel if I don't visit him now, I probably will not get a chance in the future. I know the situation between us is complicated, and perhaps it's completely naive and foolish of me to travel across the globe to jut surprise him, especially how he's hurt me in some ways over the past few months and weeks... But he's special to me, and even as just a friend, I would do anything to make him happy and smile. I would (literally) travel the world to show that he means a whole lot to me...
Then theres my nephew, who turned three months, and yet I've not even had the chance to visit him. What a terrible uncle I am! Three days from now is sinterklaas, the Dutch Christmas, so what better time is there to pay him a surprise visit?
It will be hectic today. Need to drop off my suitcase at the office, then head to the hospital for a few hours of volunteering. then rush downtown to get some last minute gifts for my brother and his family. Then at around four in the afternoon I have a thesis meeting with my supervisor. After that, I need to rush to the airport to catch my flight.
So many things all at once! I'll be so relaxed and relieved once I'm on board the plane tonight....
I sent my friend off last night, and tonight I'll be at the airport again to send myself off. I promised myself I wouldn't travel until January, but a number of reasons "make" me now sit in the metro with two pieces of luggage on my way into school early in the morning. Or at least, they are reasons I tell myself can justify me Jetting away again...
My ex, even though he's my ex has so often expressed hope that I could go visit him at his home. And somehow, I feel if I don't visit him now, I probably will not get a chance in the future. I know the situation between us is complicated, and perhaps it's completely naive and foolish of me to travel across the globe to jut surprise him, especially how he's hurt me in some ways over the past few months and weeks... But he's special to me, and even as just a friend, I would do anything to make him happy and smile. I would (literally) travel the world to show that he means a whole lot to me...
Then theres my nephew, who turned three months, and yet I've not even had the chance to visit him. What a terrible uncle I am! Three days from now is sinterklaas, the Dutch Christmas, so what better time is there to pay him a surprise visit?
It will be hectic today. Need to drop off my suitcase at the office, then head to the hospital for a few hours of volunteering. then rush downtown to get some last minute gifts for my brother and his family. Then at around four in the afternoon I have a thesis meeting with my supervisor. After that, I need to rush to the airport to catch my flight.
So many things all at once! I'll be so relaxed and relieved once I'm on board the plane tonight....
01 December 2011
29 November 2011
Surprise
Surprise
28 nov
I was confused. Dumbstruck. Suspicious. Too much happening suddenly too unexpectedly and all at the same time. I went downtown today, even though it was a Sunday, because my friend has been asking me to come help him pack up his things to move away. I sat in the office a while and waited and waited, and suddenly at six in the evening he rang me and asked me to meet him at his apartment. So I went, and another friend with a car was there too. Instead of packing things and tidying up his apartment, he went to get a Christmas tree from his storage space, and said we needed to be quick, as another friend was waiting for us at my place. Waiting for us? At My place?
To decorate the christmas tree? How come I'm only hearing about this now? I became suspicious and kept asking what was going on, but my friends were vague or elusive in their replies. Suspicious as I was, I also felt somewhat 'bad', because my house was a complete mess, as I've just been too busy with my work and the surprise gift for my friend I've been working on. And also because of my still healing thumb, I've not been able to do much housework, especially the dishes (not that normally my house is that clean either...).
And I felt bad also because i've been trying to invite this other friend to dinner at my place for a while now, but he never had the opportunity. And now suddenly i hear he's waiting at my door, whereas I have not much to offer him on terms of food... We loaded the car and headed to my place. Barely had we unloaded, this friend who was already waiting for us to head back called me and told me to go to the supermarket to meet him. I went to the supermarket, but was so eager to get back. I needed to cook and try to make my house at least half decent to receive guests, but for the next half an hour or so I wandered around the aisles with this friend who kept on looking at various products and telling me how things are cheaper where he lives, or telling me the ingredients of this or that foodstuff. I was very anxious. It took great effort to eventually drag my friend out of that supermarket, and if I weren't rushing home, he would have wanted to go to another store to look at prices...
Anxious I opened the door. My ex was sitting on my couch talking on the phone. I felt a bit hurt, as I assumed he used the time I was away at the supermarket to quickly chat with the guy he is seeing. It was only when I got into the kitchen did I realise everything come together. My dining table had been placed in the centre. On it were various foods and a chocolatey cake, and gathered around the table were my friends.
"Surprise!!!" It sure was one, but I still could not figure out why, until my ex pointed to the cake and drew attention to the fact that written on a piece of chocolate in white icing was my name and "space lawyer". It was all because a few days earlier, after much time spent slaving away, I finally (almost) finished my thesis. I was overwhelmed by the surprise and how so many people made the effort to come to my place (as messy as it is...) to shower me with wellwishes and congratulations.
I kissed my ex on the cheek when I realised what he had done to coordinate and clandestine organise all this. I was very touched, because just trying to get people to come together and do things clandestinely takes a lot of effort and time. I know that. "I hope one day I can do something like this for you..." I said. The irony was, I was also busy planning and coordinating a number of surprises for his birthday, and he managed to pull something off before me. The whole evening, we ate and chatted, and my friends wrote me a lovely card with all sorts of touching personal messages inside.
As happy and overwhelmed as I was, I later admitted perhaps it was all a bit premature, as my supervisor had not even reviewed my thesis, and being the oh-so-confident person I am, I wasn't sure whether what I have written was of good (or any!) quality. Together with a number of friends, we did eventually put up the Christmas tree to usher in the holiday season. This year, it will be the first time I'm really putting in effort to celebrate ever since I arrived in Canada.
And as the tree became more alive and colourful with lights and tinsels, I began to feel warm deep down inside and was looking forward to celebrate Christmas in the company of people I care about and love... At the time, though, seeing the tree also reminded me of how precious and how very fleeting those moments of being together, moments when all of us can gather under one roof, are going to become rarer and rarer as slowly people begin to move on in life, and move away...
That night, my ex stayed the night, as expected when we have gatherings at my place with our common friends. We lay in bed and chatted late into the night. Just friends, who used to be beautiful lovers. Just friends, between whom the intimacy and strong physical and emotional attractions seem to have been waning slowly. By choice, and I respect that choice, even though I cannot fully understand why, even though he tells me it's so hard to resist me. I leaned to one side and told him how lonely I feel at night, and expressed how strange it feels that within a matter of weeks, days all that intimacy has vanished. He told me not to lament what I don't have, but to treasure what I do have. He leaned over and stroked my body, touched my arms and hands, as if to prove the contrary.
True, I have a lot... Wonderful friends who would gather from everywhere to surprise me, I have a loving cat, a warm home and means to sustain myself and pursue my goals and dreams. I have so very much, too much perhaps that I do not always treasure or remember all that I have, or have had...
But I am human too, and I have been too deeply touch by love, spoiled by affection and attention that I yearn for it, that I at times suddenly wake up at night and lie awake for a while because i am afraid of the enptiness next to my bed.
My ex can tell me to treasure what I have, not miss what I don't have. Normally I would and tend to think like that, but coming from him, as well intentioned and genuine as the words were, it sounded strange. Are those the words of someone who has someone, who seems to have it all? Words from someone who has a best friend, a "soul mate" as he calls me now, in whom he can confide, and who also has a special someone he can sleep with and be intimate with at any time? I should just count my blessings, dispel whatever sadness I may feel looking at the Christmas tree that was put up in my living room, exorcise whatever beautiful memories of the way we were or potential futures of the way we may be...
But for once in my life, close to Christmas time, I feel a little sour and bitter that everything on the outside, all that decoration, all that tinsel, all those beautiful lights, is so wonderful, so magical, and yet on the inside there is a void, an emptiness that echoes deep with yearning and affection. But we can never have it all.
Nothing is ever perfect. The world is just the way it is. And it is, or you must see it as, perfect that way.
I was confused. Dumbstruck. Suspicious. Too much happening suddenly too unexpectedly and all at the same time. I went downtown today, even though it was a Sunday, because my friend has been asking me to come help him pack up his things to move away. I sat in the office a while and waited and waited, and suddenly at six in the evening he rang me and asked me to meet him at his apartment. So I went, and another friend with a car was there too. Instead of packing things and tidying up his apartment, he went to get a Christmas tree from his storage space, and said we needed to be quick, as another friend was waiting for us at my place. Waiting for us? At My place?
To decorate the christmas tree? How come I'm only hearing about this now? I became suspicious and kept asking what was going on, but my friends were vague or elusive in their replies. Suspicious as I was, I also felt somewhat 'bad', because my house was a complete mess, as I've just been too busy with my work and the surprise gift for my friend I've been working on. And also because of my still healing thumb, I've not been able to do much housework, especially the dishes (not that normally my house is that clean either...).
And I felt bad also because i've been trying to invite this other friend to dinner at my place for a while now, but he never had the opportunity. And now suddenly i hear he's waiting at my door, whereas I have not much to offer him on terms of food... We loaded the car and headed to my place. Barely had we unloaded, this friend who was already waiting for us to head back called me and told me to go to the supermarket to meet him. I went to the supermarket, but was so eager to get back. I needed to cook and try to make my house at least half decent to receive guests, but for the next half an hour or so I wandered around the aisles with this friend who kept on looking at various products and telling me how things are cheaper where he lives, or telling me the ingredients of this or that foodstuff. I was very anxious. It took great effort to eventually drag my friend out of that supermarket, and if I weren't rushing home, he would have wanted to go to another store to look at prices...
Anxious I opened the door. My ex was sitting on my couch talking on the phone. I felt a bit hurt, as I assumed he used the time I was away at the supermarket to quickly chat with the guy he is seeing. It was only when I got into the kitchen did I realise everything come together. My dining table had been placed in the centre. On it were various foods and a chocolatey cake, and gathered around the table were my friends.
"Surprise!!!" It sure was one, but I still could not figure out why, until my ex pointed to the cake and drew attention to the fact that written on a piece of chocolate in white icing was my name and "space lawyer". It was all because a few days earlier, after much time spent slaving away, I finally (almost) finished my thesis. I was overwhelmed by the surprise and how so many people made the effort to come to my place (as messy as it is...) to shower me with wellwishes and congratulations.
I kissed my ex on the cheek when I realised what he had done to coordinate and clandestine organise all this. I was very touched, because just trying to get people to come together and do things clandestinely takes a lot of effort and time. I know that. "I hope one day I can do something like this for you..." I said. The irony was, I was also busy planning and coordinating a number of surprises for his birthday, and he managed to pull something off before me. The whole evening, we ate and chatted, and my friends wrote me a lovely card with all sorts of touching personal messages inside.
As happy and overwhelmed as I was, I later admitted perhaps it was all a bit premature, as my supervisor had not even reviewed my thesis, and being the oh-so-confident person I am, I wasn't sure whether what I have written was of good (or any!) quality. Together with a number of friends, we did eventually put up the Christmas tree to usher in the holiday season. This year, it will be the first time I'm really putting in effort to celebrate ever since I arrived in Canada.
And as the tree became more alive and colourful with lights and tinsels, I began to feel warm deep down inside and was looking forward to celebrate Christmas in the company of people I care about and love... At the time, though, seeing the tree also reminded me of how precious and how very fleeting those moments of being together, moments when all of us can gather under one roof, are going to become rarer and rarer as slowly people begin to move on in life, and move away...
That night, my ex stayed the night, as expected when we have gatherings at my place with our common friends. We lay in bed and chatted late into the night. Just friends, who used to be beautiful lovers. Just friends, between whom the intimacy and strong physical and emotional attractions seem to have been waning slowly. By choice, and I respect that choice, even though I cannot fully understand why, even though he tells me it's so hard to resist me. I leaned to one side and told him how lonely I feel at night, and expressed how strange it feels that within a matter of weeks, days all that intimacy has vanished. He told me not to lament what I don't have, but to treasure what I do have. He leaned over and stroked my body, touched my arms and hands, as if to prove the contrary.
True, I have a lot... Wonderful friends who would gather from everywhere to surprise me, I have a loving cat, a warm home and means to sustain myself and pursue my goals and dreams. I have so very much, too much perhaps that I do not always treasure or remember all that I have, or have had...
But I am human too, and I have been too deeply touch by love, spoiled by affection and attention that I yearn for it, that I at times suddenly wake up at night and lie awake for a while because i am afraid of the enptiness next to my bed.
My ex can tell me to treasure what I have, not miss what I don't have. Normally I would and tend to think like that, but coming from him, as well intentioned and genuine as the words were, it sounded strange. Are those the words of someone who has someone, who seems to have it all? Words from someone who has a best friend, a "soul mate" as he calls me now, in whom he can confide, and who also has a special someone he can sleep with and be intimate with at any time? I should just count my blessings, dispel whatever sadness I may feel looking at the Christmas tree that was put up in my living room, exorcise whatever beautiful memories of the way we were or potential futures of the way we may be...
But for once in my life, close to Christmas time, I feel a little sour and bitter that everything on the outside, all that decoration, all that tinsel, all those beautiful lights, is so wonderful, so magical, and yet on the inside there is a void, an emptiness that echoes deep with yearning and affection. But we can never have it all.
Nothing is ever perfect. The world is just the way it is. And it is, or you must see it as, perfect that way.
Pointless
Mum sounded very tired when I called. It was twenty past ten her time,
not too late, but not too early either. I had just woken up, and my
phone was the first thing I grabbed.
Tomorrow she needs to go back to the hospital. It's been another two weeks already. The doctor said the cancer index declined, but not by much. It may mean that the drug is losing its effect, which means it may be pointless to keep on doing the treatment. It's just more agony and physical torment for mum to continue, if the drugs are not effective any more... And if they're not effective, what else is there left? How many more types of chemotherapy can she undergo?
"I'm so tired," she said, "I want to stop..." I didn't know what to say... Do I encourage her to stop, and run the risk of the cancer spreading and then eventually cause her so much pain and suffering before ultimately killing her...? Or do I tell her to continue with the treatment, to keep on fighting, to keep on returning to the hospital every two weeks, to get so weak and lethargic and exhausted...? What did I tell her? I'm not sure what I told her...
I really don't remember at all, so it must have been very unremarkable.
I think I told her to take care. I think I told her to hang on there. Not whether she should stop or continue, but just to be strong. How much do my words help her?
Tomorrow she needs to go back to the hospital. It's been another two weeks already. The doctor said the cancer index declined, but not by much. It may mean that the drug is losing its effect, which means it may be pointless to keep on doing the treatment. It's just more agony and physical torment for mum to continue, if the drugs are not effective any more... And if they're not effective, what else is there left? How many more types of chemotherapy can she undergo?
"I'm so tired," she said, "I want to stop..." I didn't know what to say... Do I encourage her to stop, and run the risk of the cancer spreading and then eventually cause her so much pain and suffering before ultimately killing her...? Or do I tell her to continue with the treatment, to keep on fighting, to keep on returning to the hospital every two weeks, to get so weak and lethargic and exhausted...? What did I tell her? I'm not sure what I told her...
I really don't remember at all, so it must have been very unremarkable.
I think I told her to take care. I think I told her to hang on there. Not whether she should stop or continue, but just to be strong. How much do my words help her?
28 November 2011
Hospital visit
An elderly lady walked alone by herself down the long, lonely corridor.
Yet with her softy trembling voice, the vacant hospital corridor, at
least momentarily, did feel so lonely after all...
She slowly limped on her cane, yet instead of lamenting her condition, her voice filled the air with song and joy. Her beautiful voice, moving, heart melting, praised the lord, praised life... We should all praise life, praise the health we have and take for granted.
I walked with the patient I was accompanying today toward the taxi in silence. The hour long ordeal and the effects of the local sedation was a lot to bear. All I could do was be next to her, give her an arm to hold onto in case she gets too dizzy or faints as we slowly walked to her home in silence. Her eyes were still moist from tearing, for the procedure was extremely uncomfortable, unbearable.
Imagine sliding a long, thin tube down your nostril and into the air ways and pockets of your lungs. Imagine having liquids inserted into your lungs as the doctor conducts biopsies of "suspect" tissue. Imagine the gagging sensations, the numbness in your nasal area, and having a hard time swallowing even your own saliva because of the great deal of discomfort... Imagine it happening to you.
She entered her small one bedroom apartment, and sat down on a sofa. The place was cluttered, and on the sofa were all sorts of blankets and pillows. A fragrant scent hung in the air, the smell of an elderly lady. There were pictures of her two sons and their respective families, but they have long since moved away, leaving her behind. Even the husband abruptly left her, over ten years ago, due to illness. There were pictures of her in an impressive and colourful dress, with her face elaborately painted and made up. The lady explained she explained she took part in many Chinese opera singing competitions, and on one side of the living room were the award banners that proved her successes. She said she lived alone, and when she is ill there is really no one to take care of her, as her family are all on the West Coast.
While we sat and she talked a bit about her family and her life, she held onto the piece of gauze around her mouth which the technician had given her just before we left the hospital. She was small, and thin, and a few years younger than my mum. Occasionally she'd cough and was unable to speak more than a few words. I noticed the gauze was moist and stained with blood. Normal, the doctor explained, for they had to slice bits of the lung for samples. If she starts coughing blood, then she must rush to the emergency room immediately. And I told her if she needs any help at all, she can call me.
Softly, she asked me to sit, for she had something to tell me. The lady got out her purse and started getting out folded bills. "I can't take this," I said outright, "I'm doing this as a volunteer..." For free, not expecting anything in return, only wanting to give something for so much society, and this world at large, has already given me. But the lady would not stop shovelling the money into my hands. She explained how it was agreed that the community centre I volunteer at takes $5 whereas the volunteer translator gets $15. It's an incentive system they came up with to get more people to volunteer, which I personally find bizarre, because it's not exactly volunteering at all. But on top of that, she wanted to give me another $20 as a "reward". I was stunned, but she said she felt really grateful for all I've done for her...
She said not to argue with her, as her throat was aching and she was in great discomfort. So I didn't. I took the fifteen dollars, and placed it in my wallet. I smiled at her, but my mind was wondering which charity I could donate the money to. The twenty dollars I also took, not wanting her to strain herself too much from trying to do more persuading. I took the bill in one hand and with the other put it on the arm of the chair I sat on. She thanked me again and again and again.
I didn't wish to offend her, so a few hours later I called her to ask how she was feeling. I was relieved when she said she ate some congee and was resting. I told her about the money. She saw, she said, and protested, but I joked that if she insisted giving me money, I won't accompany her to the hospital anymore. She laughed, and again repeated how grateful she felt for all I've done.
What did I do really? A few hours of my life to help an elderly lady go get checked up... A few words and sentences translated so she knows exactly what is happening and what she needs to do while the doctor conducts the bronchoscopy... Told her not to worry to much, not to think too much, and reassure her that the procedure will soon be over... It's not much, it's what any fellow human being should do for any other human being in need, even if the other person is a complete stranger.
She was tired and physically drained from the entire ordeal. I sat on the side on a little stool as the doctor pushed the bronchoscope deeper and deeper into her lungs. Now and then, the doctor would give instructions, like to breathe harder, to breathe through the mouth, and I would proceed to translate so the lady could understand. She lay there for at least half an hour or so, writhing uncomfortably, breathing laboriously. It took a while before the sedation came into effect, for the nurse (clumsily?) poked her arm many times before a suitable vein could be found to administer the anaesthetic. This caused the lady much pain and cringed expressions on her face. I could only try to calm her from time to time by saying that the procedure will be over soon, and gently pat her on the leg. In her eyes were tears, from fear perhaps, from the discomfort definitely.
Once finished, the doctor took off his gloves and scribbled something on sheet of paper attached to a clipboard. They encountered some anomalies, he said, and further testing and biopsies are required to confirm what he suspects may be malignant.
I think the lady suspected it already, she expressed to me her fears the first time we spoke on the phone to make an appointment. A follow up appointment was scheduled for the next week, when more conclusive results will be available. She asked if I could accompany her, but I could not, for I would be abroad. And perhaps it is best that I am not there...
She slowly limped on her cane, yet instead of lamenting her condition, her voice filled the air with song and joy. Her beautiful voice, moving, heart melting, praised the lord, praised life... We should all praise life, praise the health we have and take for granted.
I walked with the patient I was accompanying today toward the taxi in silence. The hour long ordeal and the effects of the local sedation was a lot to bear. All I could do was be next to her, give her an arm to hold onto in case she gets too dizzy or faints as we slowly walked to her home in silence. Her eyes were still moist from tearing, for the procedure was extremely uncomfortable, unbearable.
Imagine sliding a long, thin tube down your nostril and into the air ways and pockets of your lungs. Imagine having liquids inserted into your lungs as the doctor conducts biopsies of "suspect" tissue. Imagine the gagging sensations, the numbness in your nasal area, and having a hard time swallowing even your own saliva because of the great deal of discomfort... Imagine it happening to you.
She entered her small one bedroom apartment, and sat down on a sofa. The place was cluttered, and on the sofa were all sorts of blankets and pillows. A fragrant scent hung in the air, the smell of an elderly lady. There were pictures of her two sons and their respective families, but they have long since moved away, leaving her behind. Even the husband abruptly left her, over ten years ago, due to illness. There were pictures of her in an impressive and colourful dress, with her face elaborately painted and made up. The lady explained she explained she took part in many Chinese opera singing competitions, and on one side of the living room were the award banners that proved her successes. She said she lived alone, and when she is ill there is really no one to take care of her, as her family are all on the West Coast.
While we sat and she talked a bit about her family and her life, she held onto the piece of gauze around her mouth which the technician had given her just before we left the hospital. She was small, and thin, and a few years younger than my mum. Occasionally she'd cough and was unable to speak more than a few words. I noticed the gauze was moist and stained with blood. Normal, the doctor explained, for they had to slice bits of the lung for samples. If she starts coughing blood, then she must rush to the emergency room immediately. And I told her if she needs any help at all, she can call me.
Softly, she asked me to sit, for she had something to tell me. The lady got out her purse and started getting out folded bills. "I can't take this," I said outright, "I'm doing this as a volunteer..." For free, not expecting anything in return, only wanting to give something for so much society, and this world at large, has already given me. But the lady would not stop shovelling the money into my hands. She explained how it was agreed that the community centre I volunteer at takes $5 whereas the volunteer translator gets $15. It's an incentive system they came up with to get more people to volunteer, which I personally find bizarre, because it's not exactly volunteering at all. But on top of that, she wanted to give me another $20 as a "reward". I was stunned, but she said she felt really grateful for all I've done for her...
She said not to argue with her, as her throat was aching and she was in great discomfort. So I didn't. I took the fifteen dollars, and placed it in my wallet. I smiled at her, but my mind was wondering which charity I could donate the money to. The twenty dollars I also took, not wanting her to strain herself too much from trying to do more persuading. I took the bill in one hand and with the other put it on the arm of the chair I sat on. She thanked me again and again and again.
I didn't wish to offend her, so a few hours later I called her to ask how she was feeling. I was relieved when she said she ate some congee and was resting. I told her about the money. She saw, she said, and protested, but I joked that if she insisted giving me money, I won't accompany her to the hospital anymore. She laughed, and again repeated how grateful she felt for all I've done.
What did I do really? A few hours of my life to help an elderly lady go get checked up... A few words and sentences translated so she knows exactly what is happening and what she needs to do while the doctor conducts the bronchoscopy... Told her not to worry to much, not to think too much, and reassure her that the procedure will soon be over... It's not much, it's what any fellow human being should do for any other human being in need, even if the other person is a complete stranger.
She was tired and physically drained from the entire ordeal. I sat on the side on a little stool as the doctor pushed the bronchoscope deeper and deeper into her lungs. Now and then, the doctor would give instructions, like to breathe harder, to breathe through the mouth, and I would proceed to translate so the lady could understand. She lay there for at least half an hour or so, writhing uncomfortably, breathing laboriously. It took a while before the sedation came into effect, for the nurse (clumsily?) poked her arm many times before a suitable vein could be found to administer the anaesthetic. This caused the lady much pain and cringed expressions on her face. I could only try to calm her from time to time by saying that the procedure will be over soon, and gently pat her on the leg. In her eyes were tears, from fear perhaps, from the discomfort definitely.
Once finished, the doctor took off his gloves and scribbled something on sheet of paper attached to a clipboard. They encountered some anomalies, he said, and further testing and biopsies are required to confirm what he suspects may be malignant.
I think the lady suspected it already, she expressed to me her fears the first time we spoke on the phone to make an appointment. A follow up appointment was scheduled for the next week, when more conclusive results will be available. She asked if I could accompany her, but I could not, for I would be abroad. And perhaps it is best that I am not there...
27 November 2011
Weaker
What's wrong with me now...? I thought I was strong, I thought I could get by and be over with all this mess. I thought I could do without him... My heart is empty and aching inside.
But today, for some reason, I long to see my ex. I want to spend time with him, as we used to do. But it simply cannot be. It simply is so unhealthy and I feel so weak...
But today, for some reason, I long to see my ex. I want to spend time with him, as we used to do. But it simply cannot be. It simply is so unhealthy and I feel so weak...
Cut off
She said it was a mistake, in retrospect. A three year relationship, and then two years as best friends. But those two years they were "together without really being together"... calling one another a lot, tell each other the deepest and most personal things in their lives, and at times sleeping next to one another.
"It stopped me from moving on," she told me. If she could do it all over again, she would cut off all contact for six months, or as long as it takes. Just cut off ties. It's better to hurt for a month (or so), then let things linger on. It's better to be lonely and feel that strong longing for a little while, then to be left lingering and wondering whether you will get back together again.
She told me I should move on, try to deal with the important things in my life. Imagine using all that time and energy I am 'wasting' thinking about my relationship with my ex, and how productive I could be if I could divert all that energy and time to something else... I feel it, and I fear it too. I too fear that I will be the one left alone and longing still at the end of the day, whereas my ex can (and has been able to...) get into another relationship and still be comfortable benefiting from whatever it is I am able t and willing to provide him as a friend, as a best friend, as an ex who still cares deeply about his wellbeing.
I care about him, and I think he cares about me too. But he left me, and now is with someone else. He tells me not to worry, to be patient, but at the same time, seems has that comfort and security of a relationship, whereas I have nothing. Do I not deserve better? Do I not need love and assurance and care, especially with all the things I'm facing right now? Why does he imply I should wait for him, when he is already out there and so quick to move on to something new, whereas I'm at home feeling miserable and alone?
There will come a point when I will just stop all this, and cut ties with the fetters of the past which has been holding me back for too long...
"It stopped me from moving on," she told me. If she could do it all over again, she would cut off all contact for six months, or as long as it takes. Just cut off ties. It's better to hurt for a month (or so), then let things linger on. It's better to be lonely and feel that strong longing for a little while, then to be left lingering and wondering whether you will get back together again.
She told me I should move on, try to deal with the important things in my life. Imagine using all that time and energy I am 'wasting' thinking about my relationship with my ex, and how productive I could be if I could divert all that energy and time to something else... I feel it, and I fear it too. I too fear that I will be the one left alone and longing still at the end of the day, whereas my ex can (and has been able to...) get into another relationship and still be comfortable benefiting from whatever it is I am able t and willing to provide him as a friend, as a best friend, as an ex who still cares deeply about his wellbeing.
I care about him, and I think he cares about me too. But he left me, and now is with someone else. He tells me not to worry, to be patient, but at the same time, seems has that comfort and security of a relationship, whereas I have nothing. Do I not deserve better? Do I not need love and assurance and care, especially with all the things I'm facing right now? Why does he imply I should wait for him, when he is already out there and so quick to move on to something new, whereas I'm at home feeling miserable and alone?
There will come a point when I will just stop all this, and cut ties with the fetters of the past which has been holding me back for too long...
Departing for...
I told mum I'm going away, but not details. The past week or so my mind has been tormented, and I just need to get away from
P.S....
I saw only a little bit of the movie, but I could not continue watching it. I stopped at the scene where the recent widow receives a package containing the voice recording from her late husband. He recorded a message, knowing that he was going to die from his brain tumour. He wanted to surprise her, to make sure she continues living even after he is no longer around... He wants her to be happy, to find herself, to laugh and smile and dance and to move on, to live the life he could not...
And that was enough to make my eyes tear. Already fragile, for some reason I have been this way for the last week or so, I could not bear to watch the movie again, even though it is such a beautiful and moving movie. The topic is very personal... cancer, losing a loved one, and also losing the love of your life. The grief, the pain, the void left behind must be so immense, so very intense...
I remember when I watched it last, I thought to myself, if I were to be in a long and committed relationship, I would like to be the one to leave first... Because from experience I know I have great, great difficulty dealing with loss. Loss not just in terms of a person who disapears from this world forever, but also loss of a loved one who for one reason or another is no longer, or can no longer, be part of your life... Loss and grief are such powerful, overwhelming emotions that I just at times cannot grapple with...
I would like to be the one to go first, and I imagine, just like the deceased husband, I would make preparations for my loved one(s) if I knew my day was coming soon. I know I can be good at making secret plans, good at leaving notes and personal messages behind for people to discover. Because it touches me and makes me smile to know, to think, that someone will discover my little note or personal message and be warmed by the discovery and by what I have written. I touches me deeply to be able to touch people, somehow, in my own little ways.
And I hope my words, perhaps even my voice, or the small things that I leave behind, will continue to reassure my loved one(s) of my love, my eternal care for them, even after I am gone...
26 November 2011
Sunken
I woke up groaning and shuddering. A dream left me heaving for breath and left my mind agitated for the rest of the day. I saw dad, the first time in months, or perhaps over a year. He was standing there, in the middle of town (The Hague was it?) waiting for me. He looked the same, wore this beige jacket he used to have, the one with a blue rim. He was looking for me, and what relieve dad's face showed when he saw me approach him in a hurry. There was his beautiful smile... The smile I still remember, the smile I can only remember, but will never be able to see again...
Earlier in the dream, I was at a store. A fish vendor's, where I remember I purchased some fish and shellfish. It was the shellfish that really tipped the balance (so to speak), and the grand total came to some 300Euros (another indication why it was probably in The Hague). I was shocked, even though I really wanted to buy it. Did I want to buy it for my dad to eat? I knew at the time dad was waiting for me, hoping to see me soon, and I did not want to disappoint him or keep him waiting. But I was anxious too, agitated. So much money just for a few grams of shellfish... was it worth. I was protesting to the vendor, but s/he did not really bother listening and said I must buy it. I must buy it because s/he already weighed it for me...
The next scene was downtown, the scene with dad. The very scene that made me wake up disturbed and agitated....
For the rest of the day, I felt like that. My friend eventually came to stay the night. But there was a lot of back and forth. I was making it difficult to get close. He just wanted a simple evening together, to fall asleep together like we used to do. But I was making issues out of everything, making him upset, making him sigh and loose patience with me. And it continued like that for much of the day...
I felt so down, sunken even, like my mind and my mental state are going wild and out of control. I could feel the depressing drag me. I could see myself being pulled down, down, down... I cried, my thoughts jumped from my mum's condition to the deep sense of abandonment since my ex left me... I felt my world collapsing, and that realisation dragged me deeper and deeper down into a terrible spiral of depression and self-pity. I felt I was so ugly, so destructive, so unpleasant and toxic to be around, and it was having a negative impact on my ex.
I asked him why he was still hanging around me... why he was still with me when he could be with the person who he is seeing, who makes him so happy and laugh? Why would he want to be with me, someone who makes him cry, makes him feel bad about himself and who wants to constantly, it seems, drag old things out of the closet and shake around and stir up a mess? Is it because deep down I'm a masochist who likes to wallow in pain and grief, and will not rest until everyone around me is brought down with me?
How selfish of me... terribly, terribly selfish of me...
But deep inside, I feel this growing, growing sense of loneliness and emptiness I cannot seem to fill...
It is done
My ex tells me he is having such a difficult time right now, predominantly because work has not been going well for him. I tried to support him, to bring him little surprises when he is in the library, and sometimes sit around him so he can feel encouraged to work hard. But it does not seem enough.
Friday night, and we went to a friend's place for dinner and a little get together. All of us sitting around the table, and now and then he checks his phone, and starts to tap away. At one point he receives a call and had to get up and move to the next room to call.
Originally, we just wanted a quiet evening in with friends. And it somehow just turned sour. I know the problem is with me. Because I can't stand the fact that he is "seeing someone" and yet wants to do all the things we used to do, still be so close and intimate (though over the past week, the level of intimacy has diminished greatly...). If he is "seeing someone", why does he still want to come over to my place to stay the night?
I asked him what is troubling him, what is so wrong with his life. He went quiet. Am I pressuring him too hard? Am I being unfair to him? I am trying the best I can to be his support, to be his friend, but sometimes I question why when he is seeing someone? Isn't that someone supposed to provide all that love and care and support that he needs? Why does he still need it from me, the ex?
It may have sounded harsh, but I said to him if there is anyone who is sad, it should be me. It's been on my mind a while now, and I finally said it. He has this special friend he is seeing, and he has a best friend who tries and tries to cheer him up when he is down. He has the best of everything. Yet he is not content for some reason. Why? He has someone he can sleep with and fall asleep comfortably next to at night, and he has me who is so willing to help him and alleviate his pain and fears in whatever way... and yet he does not seem happy.
I know I make an issue of things, I know that I make life difficult for him by raising all these issues... but sometimes I feel like he just wants to laugh and have a good time and pretend that nothing ever happened between us, pretend as if everything can just go back to normal, when in fact he is causing a lot of the difficulties himself by wanting to be someone else and still want to keep me on the side.
Am I so selfish? Am I angry at him? Am I playing the bitter victim? I don't know... But how does he expect him to just stay around, and tell me that things used to be easier before, tell me that he misses the "old" me, when he suddenly turns around one day in the middle of our relationship and say he can't go on and wants to be with someone else? Sure I caused much of this mess in the first place, he tells me that,he reminds me of that... But how can you imply to someone that things were so happy before when someone has gone through so much hurt and a painful heartbreak?
I really don't know what he wants from me... I really don't know what he wants, what he is looking for. And he tells me it would hurt him if I just turn cold on him. But maybe that's exactly what I should do, as some of my friends have suggested. Just turn cold on him, just have less or no contact with him. Just let him be, let him be happy and unconfused in his new love affair. That would be less trouble, less worry for everyone, instead of going day to day having these ups and downs and pendulum swings of emotions from my side because I cannot control at times feeling so hurt and so disappointed by what is happening. Again, I ask the question... how can he be so happy, how can he just want to smile and laugh and go back to good ole times of just being friends and pretend everything is alright between us...?
Friday night, and we went to a friend's place for dinner and a little get together. All of us sitting around the table, and now and then he checks his phone, and starts to tap away. At one point he receives a call and had to get up and move to the next room to call.
Originally, we just wanted a quiet evening in with friends. And it somehow just turned sour. I know the problem is with me. Because I can't stand the fact that he is "seeing someone" and yet wants to do all the things we used to do, still be so close and intimate (though over the past week, the level of intimacy has diminished greatly...). If he is "seeing someone", why does he still want to come over to my place to stay the night?
I asked him what is troubling him, what is so wrong with his life. He went quiet. Am I pressuring him too hard? Am I being unfair to him? I am trying the best I can to be his support, to be his friend, but sometimes I question why when he is seeing someone? Isn't that someone supposed to provide all that love and care and support that he needs? Why does he still need it from me, the ex?
It may have sounded harsh, but I said to him if there is anyone who is sad, it should be me. It's been on my mind a while now, and I finally said it. He has this special friend he is seeing, and he has a best friend who tries and tries to cheer him up when he is down. He has the best of everything. Yet he is not content for some reason. Why? He has someone he can sleep with and fall asleep comfortably next to at night, and he has me who is so willing to help him and alleviate his pain and fears in whatever way... and yet he does not seem happy.
I know I make an issue of things, I know that I make life difficult for him by raising all these issues... but sometimes I feel like he just wants to laugh and have a good time and pretend that nothing ever happened between us, pretend as if everything can just go back to normal, when in fact he is causing a lot of the difficulties himself by wanting to be someone else and still want to keep me on the side.
Am I so selfish? Am I angry at him? Am I playing the bitter victim? I don't know... But how does he expect him to just stay around, and tell me that things used to be easier before, tell me that he misses the "old" me, when he suddenly turns around one day in the middle of our relationship and say he can't go on and wants to be with someone else? Sure I caused much of this mess in the first place, he tells me that,he reminds me of that... But how can you imply to someone that things were so happy before when someone has gone through so much hurt and a painful heartbreak?
I really don't know what he wants from me... I really don't know what he wants, what he is looking for. And he tells me it would hurt him if I just turn cold on him. But maybe that's exactly what I should do, as some of my friends have suggested. Just turn cold on him, just have less or no contact with him. Just let him be, let him be happy and unconfused in his new love affair. That would be less trouble, less worry for everyone, instead of going day to day having these ups and downs and pendulum swings of emotions from my side because I cannot control at times feeling so hurt and so disappointed by what is happening. Again, I ask the question... how can he be so happy, how can he just want to smile and laugh and go back to good ole times of just being friends and pretend everything is alright between us...?
25 November 2011
24 November 2011
Empty
Suddenly I felt empty, and lonely, inside. Why? Why was i feeling this way? Why was I, perhaps, being made to feel this way?
My ex and I spent the night together. I surprised him with a prepared dinner at the library, where he's been studying and trying to get the first, and most difficult, chapter of his thesis done. He told me he's been having a challenging time, and how he felt really down, so I thought what better way to cheer him up than with a nice healthy meal and some company.
It was a lovely dinner, with soup, fried noodles, dessert and fruit. We joked and chatted, and it reminded me of those early days when I was working late in the library and how he brought me food a couple of times, completely unannounced. I remember being very touched that someone cared so much about me, cared enough about me to go through trouble of cooking for me. And now, I'm happy I can do it to him.
We studied a bit, and at the end of the night he said he wanted to do something light. Ended upat my place, where we watched some tv, and generally had a pleasant evening.
Bedtime. He wanted to sleep with me, or at least next to me. But I could not. I wanted to, longed to so much, but a part of me resisted because deep inside I felt it so "unfair". He's not with me, he's "seeing someone" (as he puts it...), so why should he want to sleep next to me? Why should he have the privilege of my warmth and my body when he can get all that and more from whom he's seeing? He left me, left me wanting, left me longing, in pursuit of his happiness, but why does he still want to maintain that degree of intimacy with me? Is not the guy he is seeing not enough? And besides, I cannot resist lying next to him from getting "excited" and wanting more than just lying next to him...
So we went to bed alone, and I slept relatively alright. Come morning he come to lie next to me in bed, but u shifted away from him, even though the smell of his body, the comfort of his touch and arms around me was too enticing. again, my mind was asking the same question... He just wants to go back to being friends because he's "seeing someone", but why does he still want to lie next to me and get into a situation where we both know is so beautiful, so wonderful, so fulfilling, and yet also confusing at the same time? He made his choice, and when you make a choice, you gain something, you lose something. Hopefully, we don't live to regret the choices we make, and hopefully, you gain more than you lose...
On the platform as we waited for the metro, I began to feel the loneliness simmer and develop. There he was, sitting right next to me. We were once together, not long ago, but now there is a growing rift between us. We had it all, we were happy, strong, beautiful together. At least for me. But now there is just this friendship that is being tested, there are these lingering feelings so strong, so beautiful yet which make me feel so wrong to have them, to indulge in them, because from what I can see, I seem to be the one who has these feelings.
I felt empty, but we will part ways, he will go do his thing, I will go do mine. At night I will go home, feeling empty, feeling like I once had something but now it is gone. And is he really happy deep inside? Is he really happy now he is "seeing someone"...? Does he know how much what he is doing to me hurts me, cuts me so deeply? I sleep at night, feeling empty and lost, I wake up disturbed and tired.
I wish I could just turn away, shut him out of my life, but he tells me again and again how that will hurt him... I need a break, or at least some kind of distraction.
My ex and I spent the night together. I surprised him with a prepared dinner at the library, where he's been studying and trying to get the first, and most difficult, chapter of his thesis done. He told me he's been having a challenging time, and how he felt really down, so I thought what better way to cheer him up than with a nice healthy meal and some company.
It was a lovely dinner, with soup, fried noodles, dessert and fruit. We joked and chatted, and it reminded me of those early days when I was working late in the library and how he brought me food a couple of times, completely unannounced. I remember being very touched that someone cared so much about me, cared enough about me to go through trouble of cooking for me. And now, I'm happy I can do it to him.
We studied a bit, and at the end of the night he said he wanted to do something light. Ended upat my place, where we watched some tv, and generally had a pleasant evening.
Bedtime. He wanted to sleep with me, or at least next to me. But I could not. I wanted to, longed to so much, but a part of me resisted because deep inside I felt it so "unfair". He's not with me, he's "seeing someone" (as he puts it...), so why should he want to sleep next to me? Why should he have the privilege of my warmth and my body when he can get all that and more from whom he's seeing? He left me, left me wanting, left me longing, in pursuit of his happiness, but why does he still want to maintain that degree of intimacy with me? Is not the guy he is seeing not enough? And besides, I cannot resist lying next to him from getting "excited" and wanting more than just lying next to him...
So we went to bed alone, and I slept relatively alright. Come morning he come to lie next to me in bed, but u shifted away from him, even though the smell of his body, the comfort of his touch and arms around me was too enticing. again, my mind was asking the same question... He just wants to go back to being friends because he's "seeing someone", but why does he still want to lie next to me and get into a situation where we both know is so beautiful, so wonderful, so fulfilling, and yet also confusing at the same time? He made his choice, and when you make a choice, you gain something, you lose something. Hopefully, we don't live to regret the choices we make, and hopefully, you gain more than you lose...
On the platform as we waited for the metro, I began to feel the loneliness simmer and develop. There he was, sitting right next to me. We were once together, not long ago, but now there is a growing rift between us. We had it all, we were happy, strong, beautiful together. At least for me. But now there is just this friendship that is being tested, there are these lingering feelings so strong, so beautiful yet which make me feel so wrong to have them, to indulge in them, because from what I can see, I seem to be the one who has these feelings.
I felt empty, but we will part ways, he will go do his thing, I will go do mine. At night I will go home, feeling empty, feeling like I once had something but now it is gone. And is he really happy deep inside? Is he really happy now he is "seeing someone"...? Does he know how much what he is doing to me hurts me, cuts me so deeply? I sleep at night, feeling empty and lost, I wake up disturbed and tired.
I wish I could just turn away, shut him out of my life, but he tells me again and again how that will hurt him... I need a break, or at least some kind of distraction.
23 November 2011
Patient
Just got off the phone with my second "client" (it sounds strange to call them that, as I'm just a volunteer...). I don't know why I was almost moved to tears.
She sounded like a lovely lady, soft spoken and a little worried about her upcoming appointment. She was nervous about missing the appointment, for it is an extremely important one, one in which she will do scans and take samples of her lungs. They found black 'spots' in them, and the fear is that it may be malignant...
Hearing that, I was moved. She reminded me a little of my mum, and part of the reason why I want to give up my time to help others... because I can't help my mum, at least I can do what I can to help those who need help.
Even though I was moved and almost tearing, I braced myself, and told her: "Please don't think too much. Let's just see how things go. Please don't worry too much." I hope my words reassured her, for sometimes, even though I've never met her, even though I don't know her at all, the words of a complete stranger can be comforting and reassuring.
"See you Monday," I said. And she was ever so grateful, even though I have not done anything at all yet.
She sounded like a lovely lady, soft spoken and a little worried about her upcoming appointment. She was nervous about missing the appointment, for it is an extremely important one, one in which she will do scans and take samples of her lungs. They found black 'spots' in them, and the fear is that it may be malignant...
Hearing that, I was moved. She reminded me a little of my mum, and part of the reason why I want to give up my time to help others... because I can't help my mum, at least I can do what I can to help those who need help.
Even though I was moved and almost tearing, I braced myself, and told her: "Please don't think too much. Let's just see how things go. Please don't worry too much." I hope my words reassured her, for sometimes, even though I've never met her, even though I don't know her at all, the words of a complete stranger can be comforting and reassuring.
"See you Monday," I said. And she was ever so grateful, even though I have not done anything at all yet.
22 November 2011
50/50
I can't remember the last time I cried so much at a movie. So very much at moments I had to take off my glasses. Not because the movie is so sad... but because it is so true, so very real.
The movie is (despite the subject matter) a comedy, based on the true life story of a 27 year old diagnosed with a severe and rare form of spinal cancer. It describes his struggle to face up to the fact that, even though he is a non-smoker, even though he runs, even though he lives a healthy lifestyle (except, perhaps, for the nail biting...), he may be dying. The chances of survival are 50/50, which as his optimistic friend tells him the odds are in his favour if he were gambling.
But cancer is not just about surviving. It is about having and living with the cruel knowledge that your days may be numbered, which may make you want to live life to the fullest, or make you want to die ever so quickly quickly and painlessly. Cancer is about fighting with life for life, about trying to escape despair and death, and about all the sickness, fatigue, lethargy, about throwing up over a toilet bowl late at night, hair loss, emotional anguish and fears that accompanies every chemo as you limbo and languish between life or death...
At one point, the protagonist locks himself and screams, and screams, and screams while banging his hands and head against the driving wheel like a madman. I closed my eyes and allowed the tears to flow so naturally, so effortlessly... Because I know, this invisible yet debilitating and often deadly disease has so much power over your mind, over your body that it is maddening... I've seen it in my mum, I've seen it in dad...
Numbness, anger, rejection, frustration, despair... these are things a shrink will tell you are "perfectly normal" emotions to have. The shrink will tell you to let them out, will tell you it's all part of the process of 'dealing with it' and healing. But the feelings, emotional pains and outbursts of a person faced with the knowledge that he may not be around much longer cannot be labelled, charted, categorised or noted in some scientific research for study and discussion. It is patients we are talking about, human beings with hopes and dreams, plans and promises made to loved ones. How can anyone possibly feel what the patient is feeling, let alone even try to comfort and console the person?
"You'll feel better and don't worry and this is all fine and it's not," the main character points out at one point. Do half lies hurt or help more than perhaps telling someone straight in the face the truth that you will die? Life and death, lies and the truth, anger and appreciation, being optimistic and being pessimistic... Often there is but two possibilities, 50/50 if you will, and it is up to you to choose to believe or indulge in either. "You can't change your situation. The only thing that you can change is how you choose to deal with it..."
Cancer is not just about the patient, for it is a dreadful illness that touches and hurts the lives and hearts of family and friends. The pain of a mother who has to see a child suffer is immeasurable, and having to see your loved one battle the side-effects of chemo and being so helpless to take away the pain and nausea is extremely testing and at times simply too, too much to handle. How can you help alleviate the suffering? How hard must you pray so that even the heavens and gods will be moved? How deeply and intensely must you make a wish so that the tumour will stop growing, stop multiplying, so that the emotional and physical fatigue on your loved one's face will simply, miraculously one day just go away..?
The many scenes at the hospital were simply too much for me to bear... The corridors filled with cancer patients and sobbing relatives, the chemo ward with faux leather armchairs and IV drips, the intimidating CT scan machines, the colourful mural and paintings in vain attempts to brighten up the drab heaviness of the cancer ward... Even now, as the images replay in my head, I am brought to tears. Louder now that I am away from the ears of the faceless public, sobbing more visibly now that I am away from the concerned, sympathetic eyes of my friends (especially of my ex...).
Why did I become so emotional? Why did tears just flow and flow and flow seemingly incessantly whenever I saw the cancer ward with its pale patients with bald heads? Why did I start trembling when the doctor pointed to the picture of a large lump pressing against the spinal column? My face became soaked and salted, my nose kept on running and sniffing. I had to swallow hard and grind my teeth together to numb the pain the images invoked inside...
There was only one word that echoed...
Mum...
Mum...
Mum...
The spinal cancer in the movie reaches a point where surgery is the only option. An extremely risky operation, that if unsuccessful will have severe consequences on the patient's chance of recovery and survival. It was a movie, but all too real, all too close to my heart. In those final moments, as he sat in bed and said goodbye to his father and mother, I just could not continue watching. I rested my head on the wall, closed my eyes and cringed. It simply felt like such a raw premonition of what may one day happen with mum...
Would I make it home to hold her, hug her, to tell her I love her so very, very much no matter what happens? Would I be able to hold my tears in? Would I be able to calmly sit and wait, and wait, and wait for the surgeon to come out and reveal the news...? There were no answers but just tears, the incessant, liberating yet painful feel and flow warm tears streaking down both my cheeks.
The movie was not just the (perhaps much dramatised and sanitised) story of one young man and his fight and triumph against cancer. It was, despite my tears, a beautiful movie, and, again despite my crying, one I do not regret watching. True, touching, perhaps somewhat too Hollywoodistic in some of the portrayals and the ending, but still beautiful and very accurately depicts the life, struggles, conflicts and precious little moments of bonding and laughing that cancer patients, family and friends go through on this difficult, difficult search for recovery and hope.
However illusive the search, there must be hope, however hopeless the prospect of recovery, there must be hope. Because without hope, what is life worth living for, what is life worth dying for?
Perhaps some will watch 50/50 and laugh at the hilarity of some of the situations in this self-proclaimed comedy... indeed, in the face of adversity, if you cannot laugh, you will just cry.
Perhaps the movie will also touch people and make people realise what really matters in life, something few people ever really realise because they do not face death, because they consciously or not choose to close their eyes to dying. Life is not just moments of laughter and happiness, even though we must never forget how to enjoy precious little moments. Life is about being with the people you love and care about most, about standing together and standing strong while trying to pull through those tough and testing lessons. Life is about family, friends, and treasuring those precious moments together.
Because sometimes, all too soon, all too suddenly, all too unwantedly, the people who matter most in our lives may at any moment be taken away from us.
Operation Surprise Visit
OK, I have to admit being naughty and writing something that is not completely true.
Truth is, I have been planning to pay a surprise visit to my friend while he is back home in Europe. In fact I have been in touch with his parents trying to arrange something without his knowledge. And just yesterday, despite having shamelessly asked if I could visit and stay over for a couple of days, I was surprised to hear from his mum that I am always welcome.
So as soon as my friend booked his ticket (with me sitting by his side, looking down and saying things like "Oh, how great you're going home..." or "Oh, I so wish I could come along too..."), I went to the side and started to check tickets. I know, it's completely devious and evil for misleading him like that... Slap me, deduct karma points from me, but I'm doing this to build up to the big surprise, which I hope will be so funny and memorable when everything comes together and goes according to plan! I'm doing this to cheer my friend up, and give him a special something for his birthday (besides another surprise gift I've got planned...)
And I did book my flights the very next morning. It was a good deal, just under seven hundred dollars, compared to some thirteen hundred, which is what I paid for when I booked my flight to go back to Europe around Christmas time (I'll cancel that soon...)
I've got it all planned out... fly home to visit my brother and my newborn nephew for a few days, and just in time for Dutch Christmas (Sinterklaas). Then, head to my friend's place and ring the bell (I'm hoping perhaps the parents could try and keep him at home that day...) I'm staying two days, and then on the last day, I'll be on the same flights as him and we'll fly back to Montreal together. Remember, I was right there and noting the times and dates of his flights when he booked his trip, so I know exactly what his itinerary is (and he rarely changes his plans...).
I'm smiling now, at the cleverness and clandestineness of the plot I'm hatching together with his parents, who have been ever so supportive and cooperative. Soon we will see how it all works out...
And I look forward to that moment when I'm standing on his doorstep.
Truth is, I have been planning to pay a surprise visit to my friend while he is back home in Europe. In fact I have been in touch with his parents trying to arrange something without his knowledge. And just yesterday, despite having shamelessly asked if I could visit and stay over for a couple of days, I was surprised to hear from his mum that I am always welcome.
So as soon as my friend booked his ticket (with me sitting by his side, looking down and saying things like "Oh, how great you're going home..." or "Oh, I so wish I could come along too..."), I went to the side and started to check tickets. I know, it's completely devious and evil for misleading him like that... Slap me, deduct karma points from me, but I'm doing this to build up to the big surprise, which I hope will be so funny and memorable when everything comes together and goes according to plan! I'm doing this to cheer my friend up, and give him a special something for his birthday (besides another surprise gift I've got planned...)
And I did book my flights the very next morning. It was a good deal, just under seven hundred dollars, compared to some thirteen hundred, which is what I paid for when I booked my flight to go back to Europe around Christmas time (I'll cancel that soon...)
I've got it all planned out... fly home to visit my brother and my newborn nephew for a few days, and just in time for Dutch Christmas (Sinterklaas). Then, head to my friend's place and ring the bell (I'm hoping perhaps the parents could try and keep him at home that day...) I'm staying two days, and then on the last day, I'll be on the same flights as him and we'll fly back to Montreal together. Remember, I was right there and noting the times and dates of his flights when he booked his trip, so I know exactly what his itinerary is (and he rarely changes his plans...).
I'm smiling now, at the cleverness and clandestineness of the plot I'm hatching together with his parents, who have been ever so supportive and cooperative. Soon we will see how it all works out...
And I look forward to that moment when I'm standing on his doorstep.
Trip
My ex kept on persuading me to go to Europe. Kept on telling me how cheap the tickets are at the moment, and how I'm always welcome at his parents' place. And as he was purchasing his ticket home, he asked if he needed to buy one or two.
I was tempted, very tempted. But I'm so tired of traveling, of flying around. It's just been too much what I've done in the past couple of months, and the idea of boarding another flight, of sitting there in the cramped cabin for a few hours, was simply too much to bear.
If you had asked me sometime ago, before I suddenly decided to go back to see my mum, before the relapse in her condition, before my friend began to "see someone", I would not hesitate going to visit my ex in his home town. He has told me so many things about it, and I've imagined many times walking down the same streets he walked down when he was younger. I have always imagined how great it would be meet his parents again and to get more sense of where he comes from. He came to my homes (Taiwan and the Netherlands) on three separate occassions ever since we met, but I have not even visited him once in his hometown. And I feel I owe him something.
But there are just so many factors that make me somewhat uncomfortable and apprehensive about going to visit him at this time. Not just because I'm so tired of traveling, not just because of the complications between us now, but also because I have a deadline for submitting my thesis, and also I'm somewhat afraid of leaving the country and wonder if I can return here, since (after two and a half months already!) I still don't have my student visa... And besides, if I went to Europe without going to visit my brother and his family, how disappointed they would be if they found out. But I simply do not feel like I have enough time to squeeze in both visits...
I told my friend that I simply can't, not at this moment, even though I am so very tempted by the prospect of just hopping on the plane and visiting him. He was disappointed, and for a couple of days have been dropping hints here and there to persuade me to go. But I really don't think I can, even though in my mind, I imagine suddenly showing up at his door... In my mind, I imagine the surprise and beautiful look on his face when he sees and realises what I have done to go see him... In my mind, I imagine the excitement of going all this distance and to show him how special he is in my life, and to show him what I would do to make him happy. In my mind, I imagine the 'cleverness' I feel when yet another secret operation is realised, and what wonderful joy it would bring to my friend, and to me.
But, as much as I would love to, I really don't think I can...
I was tempted, very tempted. But I'm so tired of traveling, of flying around. It's just been too much what I've done in the past couple of months, and the idea of boarding another flight, of sitting there in the cramped cabin for a few hours, was simply too much to bear.
If you had asked me sometime ago, before I suddenly decided to go back to see my mum, before the relapse in her condition, before my friend began to "see someone", I would not hesitate going to visit my ex in his home town. He has told me so many things about it, and I've imagined many times walking down the same streets he walked down when he was younger. I have always imagined how great it would be meet his parents again and to get more sense of where he comes from. He came to my homes (Taiwan and the Netherlands) on three separate occassions ever since we met, but I have not even visited him once in his hometown. And I feel I owe him something.
But there are just so many factors that make me somewhat uncomfortable and apprehensive about going to visit him at this time. Not just because I'm so tired of traveling, not just because of the complications between us now, but also because I have a deadline for submitting my thesis, and also I'm somewhat afraid of leaving the country and wonder if I can return here, since (after two and a half months already!) I still don't have my student visa... And besides, if I went to Europe without going to visit my brother and his family, how disappointed they would be if they found out. But I simply do not feel like I have enough time to squeeze in both visits...
I told my friend that I simply can't, not at this moment, even though I am so very tempted by the prospect of just hopping on the plane and visiting him. He was disappointed, and for a couple of days have been dropping hints here and there to persuade me to go. But I really don't think I can, even though in my mind, I imagine suddenly showing up at his door... In my mind, I imagine the surprise and beautiful look on his face when he sees and realises what I have done to go see him... In my mind, I imagine the excitement of going all this distance and to show him how special he is in my life, and to show him what I would do to make him happy. In my mind, I imagine the 'cleverness' I feel when yet another secret operation is realised, and what wonderful joy it would bring to my friend, and to me.
But, as much as I would love to, I really don't think I can...
Midnight visit
What am I doing? Eight minutes past midnight, waiting at the metro to go downtown. To go see my friend and try to cheer him up.
We've just spent the last half an hour or so on the phone. He seemed so
eager to want to talk, so eager to want to see me...
I ask myself why, why he would like me to keep him company when he is "seeing someone". Isn't that someone whom he's seeing supposed to comfort him, hug him, give him all the love abd affection that transcends everything I, as a mere friend, could possibly give him?
He said he has been feeling very down lately, and that he was under the impression that I'd go see him and spend some time with him tonight, even though I really wanted to finish
off the two missing parts of my thesis.
But seeing him down, I could not
bear it. Even though i question myself why im rushing to his place so latr at night. I've done things for friends before, and he is more than just a
friend. Besides, not that I'm trying to 'return the favour' but in the
past he has so often just got dressed and showed up at my door
unannounced when he senses (or reads on my blog) that I'm down or sad.
Tonight, it's just about two people who mean a lot to one another. It's just about one person going to see another because the other is down. It's just about two friends and the happiness and joy and laughter that can be shares when they are together.
Tonight, it's just about two people who mean a lot to one another. It's just about one person going to see another because the other is down. It's just about two friends and the happiness and joy and laughter that can be shares when they are together.
21 November 2011
draft thesis (almost) complete
There are still bits missing. The beginning and the end, but at least after almost two years of working on it on and off for two years, I'm almost done with my current masters thesis.
Yesterday/today, I worked on it almost twelve hours straight, from 5 in the afternoon to a little before six in the morning. I know if I put my heart and mind to something I can accomplish a lot. And I proved to myself that that is true. And it's been such a long long time since I had such a sense of "achievement" (even though I know I'm not quite done yet...).
I felt proud seeing all those pages of words, some 37000 in the body and some 20000+ in the footnotes! I'm sure there are probably lots of typos and glaring mistakes, but that can all be improved on in the coming weeks before I submit. I'll need to send a copy to my supervisor, who's been waiting patiently for me to finish.
But first I must share the news with someone who matters, someone who's been behind me and supporting my on and off endeavours to finish my thesis, and thereby degree.
My mum.
Yesterday/today, I worked on it almost twelve hours straight, from 5 in the afternoon to a little before six in the morning. I know if I put my heart and mind to something I can accomplish a lot. And I proved to myself that that is true. And it's been such a long long time since I had such a sense of "achievement" (even though I know I'm not quite done yet...).
I felt proud seeing all those pages of words, some 37000 in the body and some 20000+ in the footnotes! I'm sure there are probably lots of typos and glaring mistakes, but that can all be improved on in the coming weeks before I submit. I'll need to send a copy to my supervisor, who's been waiting patiently for me to finish.
But first I must share the news with someone who matters, someone who's been behind me and supporting my on and off endeavours to finish my thesis, and thereby degree.
My mum.
20 November 2011
Dimsum
It's bizarre how life works sometimes, and sometimes you don't ask why or how.
I somehow managed to get invited to dimsum with my ex and (deep breath, and brace for it...) the ex-in laws of my ex. The ex of my ex was not present.
They had a bad break up, and ended with somewhat sour feelings. In comparison, the break up between my ex and I, as complicated as it was (or still is...), seems tame.
Ever since I met my ex, he had told me what kind of very demanding, self-centred and at times out right insane person his ex was. A successful doctor who makes a lot now, but would rather spend money on holidays and (plans on) buying a fancy car instead of providing more care and support for his aged parents, one of whom is almost blind and barely mobile.
I sort of knew it would be trouble, but never expected how much.
I somehow managed to get invited to dimsum with my ex and (deep breath, and brace for it...) the ex-in laws of my ex. The ex of my ex was not present.
They had a bad break up, and ended with somewhat sour feelings. In comparison, the break up between my ex and I, as complicated as it was (or still is...), seems tame.
Ever since I met my ex, he had told me what kind of very demanding, self-centred and at times out right insane person his ex was. A successful doctor who makes a lot now, but would rather spend money on holidays and (plans on) buying a fancy car instead of providing more care and support for his aged parents, one of whom is almost blind and barely mobile.
I sort of knew it would be trouble, but never expected how much.
Sick...
Mum said she threw up yesterday. Twice, no less.
A friend of hers, eager to introduce to her a dietary supplement that is supposed to suppress the growth of cancer cells, gave her two bottles of red raspberry extracts. Mum was told to take some twice a day, and apparent someone managed to get rid of the cancer completely after taking the supplement.
At first mum was alright, but come afternoon, she said she felt more and more unwell. Bloated she said she felt, and she just had to throw up. It was much better when all that she ate came out, but that meant also just two days after her latest chemotherapy, vital nutrients were wasted. And given how little she seems to eat now, she may be losing weight as a result... It was very disheartening to hear that.
Mum mentioned that when she was here in Canada, I fed her a lot of raspberries (and all sorts of other berries). She still remembers that, and said that with fond memories. It was quiet a scare, mum said, and her friend was terribly apologetic. She really did mean well, and wanted to introduce to mum something that would improve her condition. Many people have tried to show mum what she should take, but not everything is suitable. It's true raspberries contain a lot of antioxidants, but that doesn't mean every kind of supplement is a 'miracle' cure.
And again, second day in a row she spoke of her wish to travel. Seeing my nephew, seeing how beautiful and cute he is just tempts her to just pack and leave all the treatments and hospital visits behind. But she knows she can't just do that. "I can't just stop the treatment again, like I did last time," she said, recalling when she stopped her chemotherapy to travel with me to Canada earlier this Summer. "I really need to rest after the treatment is completely over to allow the body to recuperate..."
Maybe... maybe I pushed her too hard, and was too eager to take her traveling back then... Maybe that's why she has to go back to her treatment again...
"I really wish I could travel," she said, "But I don't know when I can..."
I don't know either. But I sure do hope soon. Soon, soon...
A friend of hers, eager to introduce to her a dietary supplement that is supposed to suppress the growth of cancer cells, gave her two bottles of red raspberry extracts. Mum was told to take some twice a day, and apparent someone managed to get rid of the cancer completely after taking the supplement.
At first mum was alright, but come afternoon, she said she felt more and more unwell. Bloated she said she felt, and she just had to throw up. It was much better when all that she ate came out, but that meant also just two days after her latest chemotherapy, vital nutrients were wasted. And given how little she seems to eat now, she may be losing weight as a result... It was very disheartening to hear that.
Mum mentioned that when she was here in Canada, I fed her a lot of raspberries (and all sorts of other berries). She still remembers that, and said that with fond memories. It was quiet a scare, mum said, and her friend was terribly apologetic. She really did mean well, and wanted to introduce to mum something that would improve her condition. Many people have tried to show mum what she should take, but not everything is suitable. It's true raspberries contain a lot of antioxidants, but that doesn't mean every kind of supplement is a 'miracle' cure.
And again, second day in a row she spoke of her wish to travel. Seeing my nephew, seeing how beautiful and cute he is just tempts her to just pack and leave all the treatments and hospital visits behind. But she knows she can't just do that. "I can't just stop the treatment again, like I did last time," she said, recalling when she stopped her chemotherapy to travel with me to Canada earlier this Summer. "I really need to rest after the treatment is completely over to allow the body to recuperate..."
Maybe... maybe I pushed her too hard, and was too eager to take her traveling back then... Maybe that's why she has to go back to her treatment again...
"I really wish I could travel," she said, "But I don't know when I can..."
I don't know either. But I sure do hope soon. Soon, soon...
Couple
The evening I spent with two friends who recently became an item. It was fun catching up, as I've not seen one friend since he moved away around a month ago. We were just chatting, sharing stories from our lives and laughing.
It was nice to see them together, and I know for my friend it's especially special because it's his first real relationship. It's hard, because of the uncertainties surrounding their getting together and because they now live in different countries. But there seems to be this beautiful spark between them, in the way they interact with one another, in the way they are close and intimate, even in front of others.
I told them, together and separately, how I'm happy they found one another. I look at them give each other kisses, head-buts, holding hands on the table. It's so romantic, so very cute. And I admitted to them I was jealous of what they have.
"Your time will come," my friend said and placed his hand on my shoulder, "You of all people I know deserve that special someone..."
I was touched.
19 November 2011
"I am here for you"
Just got another email from a friend living far away.
I'm not sure how she sensed what difficult period I am going through, what emotional mess I'm in right now, especially as we've not been in touch for a long time. But reading her short but very touching note made my heart warm and well up with emotions. I don't know how how she seems to know how I am feeling deep down inside, but her words reassured me that even in the face of adverse conditions, even in the face so much uncertainty and things falling apart in my life, I can pull through. Pull through and be the strong, determined and capable person she has always known me to be-- the person she is so proud of knowing, so proud to have befriended. But little does she know how precious she in my life, and how she has pushed and helped me in so many ways. Even to this day, from far, far away...
"You are helping her more than you could possibly imagine. Your love for her is [...] helping her through her pain and suffering" she wrote. And at the end: "Do not forget to take good care of yourself, too."
That's what I do too rarely, and I really must take more care of myself.
I'm not sure how she sensed what difficult period I am going through, what emotional mess I'm in right now, especially as we've not been in touch for a long time. But reading her short but very touching note made my heart warm and well up with emotions. I don't know how how she seems to know how I am feeling deep down inside, but her words reassured me that even in the face of adverse conditions, even in the face so much uncertainty and things falling apart in my life, I can pull through. Pull through and be the strong, determined and capable person she has always known me to be-- the person she is so proud of knowing, so proud to have befriended. But little does she know how precious she in my life, and how she has pushed and helped me in so many ways. Even to this day, from far, far away...
"You are helping her more than you could possibly imagine. Your love for her is [...] helping her through her pain and suffering" she wrote. And at the end: "Do not forget to take good care of yourself, too."
That's what I do too rarely, and I really must take more care of myself.
sleeplessness
Feel so lonely in bed tonight...
Why am i so sensitive? Why do I feel so raw, so vulnerable, as if my heart is exposed to the elements and onslaught of emotions? Not even losing a loved one to death compares to this hollow emptiness inside...
Plea
"Can I go travel again...?" she said, with such hope and desperation, "[I] so much want to go travel again..."
Mum was telling me about this travel show she was watching, which was on Barcelona, a place where she came to visit me while I was doing a summer course there back in 2008. It was her first trip after dad passed away, and particularly memorable. For her, it was the Gaudi architecture that was inspiring, and the food that was so varied, colourful and tasty. She recounted restaurants we visited, including this one which we found out only when we were about to leave happened to be a Michellin star restaurant. "Such beautiful memories..." she said, and excitedly talked about how she and her friends used to travel to Europe every other year, taking different routes and exploring different parts of the continent by train.
Then she expressed her wish to travel again... As much as I hope she can do that, the reality may be different now because of her condition. As much as I would love to show her more of the world, or revisit memorable places with her, deep down perhaps she knows too that it will be a difficult challenge...
Still, I told her, we can go somewhere when she has finished the current treatment. But deep down inside, it felt like I was telling a lie to placate her, a lie you tell to a little child because you don't want to go into the details of why it is that certain things cannot be done, just to make her feel better, even though taking her away from the hospital, appointments, doctors and needles is something I would give anything in the world for...
Mum was telling me about this travel show she was watching, which was on Barcelona, a place where she came to visit me while I was doing a summer course there back in 2008. It was her first trip after dad passed away, and particularly memorable. For her, it was the Gaudi architecture that was inspiring, and the food that was so varied, colourful and tasty. She recounted restaurants we visited, including this one which we found out only when we were about to leave happened to be a Michellin star restaurant. "Such beautiful memories..." she said, and excitedly talked about how she and her friends used to travel to Europe every other year, taking different routes and exploring different parts of the continent by train.
Then she expressed her wish to travel again... As much as I hope she can do that, the reality may be different now because of her condition. As much as I would love to show her more of the world, or revisit memorable places with her, deep down perhaps she knows too that it will be a difficult challenge...
Still, I told her, we can go somewhere when she has finished the current treatment. But deep down inside, it felt like I was telling a lie to placate her, a lie you tell to a little child because you don't want to go into the details of why it is that certain things cannot be done, just to make her feel better, even though taking her away from the hospital, appointments, doctors and needles is something I would give anything in the world for...
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