Divine lot

‘Put your past behind you. What is missing cannot be found. Nature will help you, be at ease’

Scars

Why are you so stuck with someone?

You’d yearn for the occasional high, when the person is nice to you one out of the other 9 times he is not. The attraction is enticing and lethal.

It’s a wild goose race, I know. But I’d want to go all out and say, I’ve done my best. I could die for you.

My colleagues have been pounding on me for their suspicions about the bandage on my wrist. I know I can’t hide anymore. I have to go without by next week. I hate scars, I don’t mind injuries or bruises as long as they don’t leave a permanent mark. Scars are marks left behind to prove you were weak but you survived. It’s only when one has come to terms about accepting and embracing the mistake will she be able to tell the truth behind. For one, I am not ready.

I cut my wrist

Whore. Self-loath, self-blame, self-harm

The first, and I hope the last. The scar on my left wrist shall act as a reminder. The act failed to garner any concern, ‘You just made yourself to go down a new low to threaten me with this’, and ‘Among all days, you have to choose this day’. The mark is obvious, I have to bandage up and possibly use badminton injury as a cover. If people will buy that story for a rightie. 

My world shook. Everything happened so fast, I felt I lost everything instantly. I’m zoning out most of the time today. I don’t know what could be any worse than this, can it?

C E F L

C says: you are very blessed. To be able to choose. When you look back, you can tell your children and grandchildren about this.

F says: even if you don’t want F, you still have C. There are many people queuing for you.

I say: I am undeserving, and indebted to C, maybe somehow to F. I love E, but I’m confused. On one side, he still pinned my messages as the first in WhatsApp, but on the flip side, he wants to maintain our distance, he will not hold my hand.

E says: I love you. But the way I love you is not how you’d hope for.

I am broken. I seem to live my life by days. I get the occasional high when he texts or calls.

Cold War at home

So the Cold War starts.

Last weekend I stayed out, for 2 nights and the second night my parents pressed the panic button. Call came in at 2am, when I was falling asleep. The last time it happened, I gave in and I went home. This time round I’m adamant not to cave in, because it creates the impression that when they make a ruckus, I will give in, like babies cry to get away with what they want.

Days on, it was calm until mom came in and created a storm. The usual ruse, emotional threat of Dad getting angry, staying awake to wait for me, deploying both hard and soft tactic, just to get me not to stay out. We know a good part of his anger was fueled by her antagonistic words. The siblings had experience of how messages get twisted via her and turned our backs on each other.

This shows how much trust my parents have in me or how much they respect my judgement in choosing my partner. They have the right to comment if they know him, but they do not. They had the chance to interact and know him better, for 3 nights when he was with me at my grandma’s wake, but they did not.

They cared about a cunning man, trying to get their guilible daughter to stay out; when the fact is that, the man enjoys freedom more than anything else and it was their daughter who is ever fighting so hard to spend more time with the person she loves.

They cared about how others, i.e. our very concerned neighbors, or E’s parents were to perceive me, more so ever than if I am happy. It feels like they dictate what is right or wrong over what I want or do not want. I don’t know if they’d play the cards of matchmaking eventually, for they know a person who is good as a person, regardless of my willingness. And I have to do what is right. I have lived my life, from birth to Poly in their bidding. May it be obedience, courtesy, studies, tuitions, I did what they want me to. Our views drifted apart, and I questioned the basis of their imperial orders when I started dating. In my poly days I was dating JJ. Because we ended work at 10pm, we usually hung around until past 12am, nothing sinister but supper and mere talking. Calls came in, followed by threat of my Dad patrolling the area, in attempt to catch and talk to the bf. They locked me out on one occasion because I went home late. My parents had issues with all the boyfriends whom I dated because we wanted to spend more time together and they didn’t like it, being a traditional family that girls should not stay out late.

For I am thirty, not a thirteen year old adolescent. I am old enough to make my own life decisions and be responsible for them. I know what I am doing, and I will not subject myself to danger. I believe I am mature enough to sniff out people with ill intent and stopped hanging out with them. Being a scaredy-cat, I do not go to places which are dodgy, and that’s why I’ve been holding back going to Thailand despite so many years of travels and the relentless raves from my friends and colleagues of how affordable and enjoyable it can be.

I have said this before, do not chain me like a prisoner because it will only repel me to freedom. Earn your respect, because seniority doesn’t warrant authority, rationality does.