Sorting Memories & Walking on a puff of air

I thought the most flattering thing a girl could ever receive from a guy on his confession is a bouquet of red roses. Apparently, I was wrong. Being presented with a ring that carries so many of a person’s hope and feelings defeats all other thoughts I may have had. Maybe I was dumbstrucked by the words he said, or maybe it was the ring, which strangely fits my ring finger so well. I’m not so conceited as to think that maybe, this is fate that was waiting to happen, but I was hit by pleasant warm feelings that made me all calm, warm and fuzzy.

If you ask me where, when and how it started, I won’t be able to tell you because I myself don’t even know. I was pretty convinced that it wasn’t me he liked, considering his adamant repetition of “I don’t want a teacher” and the sudden “It definitely wouldn’t be me” when I joked with my friends about something like “Lol, who the heck is the poor husband who marries me XD”. What was I supposed to think when someone tells me something like that? I guess you can say that that was the first time I sort of thought that he thought I like him, and that he was giving reminders to me so I don’t continue liking him. Surely you wouldn’t be so serious telling other people the criteria of the partner you want in life, especially when the criteria goes against the other people, unless you want them to get away from you… right?

Or so I thought. So in an attempt to make him feel at ease with me, I summoned the picture of someone I used to have feelings for and used the feelings I once had for him to pretend I was still hung up on him. I felt bad for using people, but hey, I was trying to preserve a friendship here! If he thinks I like someone else, surely he won’t think I, um, like him…right?

Again, so I thought.

Now let’s fast forward a little bit. He started talking to me more. He started spending more time with me , and for some unknown reasons, I couldn’t find it in me to turn him down when he asks me out for dinner etc, even if he was asking me in his roundabout ways most of the time (until I had to ask him ‘Do you want me to accompany you?’. Seriously!). At this point, people who know me well started giving me hints, pointers and whatever else you’d call a wild rumour. Catcalls? That’s the least of my worry then. Of course I didn’t believe them. In my mind, he was still so adamant about wanting nothing to do with someone like me, so there’s no way he was spending time with me because he liked me more than just a friend.

Not much happened after that. So many beating around the bushes and so many hints that I regarded purely as false hints. A couple of days after the exam, we had dinner where he asked me to watch a movie with him at the cinema. I said yes because somehow, spending time with him has become something like a habit. We started YMing. For once, my YM behaved pretty nicely, so we ended up chatting for a whole night. In the middle of our conversation, he suddenly went into contemplative mode where he started a string of conversation I couldn’t understand (until much later). I know I’m slow when it concerns my own self, but I never thought I was that slow. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me, so I cried. I always cry when my emotion is on the extremes – too frustrated, too angry, too sad… It’s just something I think I got from my Mom =)

I stared into the mirror for quite a while before I went to bed, thoughts swirling in my head. And then I thought about one person I thought I still have one-sided feelings for up until a certain point in time. Actually, I don’t quite feel anything for him anymore as I’ve learnt to let go over the years. I know I’ve stopped thinking about that person a couple of years back. I also know that at one point in time, I was mildly interested in him (him as in him, not that person) but I didn’t put much thought into it. That was foundation years, maybe? I couldn’t remember.

It took me a while to realise that I may possibly have stronger feelings for him after all, and that scared me into tears.

Moving on. The movie outing was nice but confusing as hell. I don’t know if he was simply teasing me, or if he’s trying to give more direct hints. Direct hints or not, I was not convinced. Time to pry a bit more? Yes, of course! I don’t really like prying, but my heart was at stake. If he really does feel something for me, maybe then I’d admit that I do feel something for him too. I’m too used to burying my feelings deep inside me, so I didn’t know how deep my feelings for him run. Even at that point in time, it’s probably deeper than I thought if he was affecting me so much in so many ways. Not amusing, okay? Hmph.

The next day, we went out with Hanin, watching the same movie. More hints and teasings. From ‘our house in the future’ to Love Letter to heart-shaped onigiris, right until before we went back. I was waiting for a time where he won’t suspect a question from me, so I asked him midway as we were walking to the taxi stand. I hate to recall our brief conversation because I totally interpreted what he said as something along the lines of ‘I’m actually just using you in order to rediscover my feelings‘. That was my interpretation. The hurt intensified. I was ready for a firm ‘No, I don’t feel anything for you’ or ‘No, I was just playing with you’ or ‘No, I don’t like you.’

I never cried so hard out of frustration and possibly anger in a long time. I cried so very hard for most part of the night until I fell asleep.  The last time I did something similar was probably in 2007 because of some issues… heh, not worth remembering. I was holding on to his phone and HDD at that time. Just one look and I got frustrated all over again. Heck, I even saw him in anything red and black, like my own Nintendo DS – and I got frustrated all over again and again and again. When I woke up in the middle of the night to find a few lines left by him on my IM, I let my fingers smash the keyboard keys. I let him know how hurt I was, and I gave him an ultimatum. That wasn’t very nice of me, but I was tired. So very tired of feeling weighted down by the unknowns. In my own twisted way, I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me, or at least just let him feel the hurt I felt. I don’t care anymore. If he doesn’t tell me soon, if he continues to be so indifferent in his roundabout ways, if he asks me to forget about everything that transpired for the past few days, I’m not sure I could talk to him like I always did.

I was edgy the next day. I went into the lecture hall without looking up. I simply grabbed an empty seat and sat down. Hanin actually texted me to tell me that he was pestering her about wanting to talk to me. I actually smiled then. At least he still wanted to talk to me. I was actually scared that he’s just going to be the average guy who’d shrug everything off at his convenience. I’m not used to staying angry at someone for long, but this time, I’m not going to give in. I tell myself that I’m not at fault this time, so I’d wait for him to apologise. I thought I was going to have to wait for a few days.

Scratch a few days. Our conversation happened not a couple of hours after Mdm. Ooi’s lengthy speech about the INTEL course. It was a somewhat solemn conversation. I didn’t let him go the roundabout this time. What I wanted at that moment was blatant honesty – honesty that drips from his heart.

And honesty was what I got. I was expecting an apology when he gave me the three words a girl always wishes for deep down, even more so when those words were accompanied by a ring. I was so touched that again, tears came to my eyes. I didn’t realise I was such a crybaby. Did I wait for this? Did I wish for this to happen? Not really, as I was expecting an apology and a ‘let’s just be friends like always’ sort of speech. Was I happy? Yes, I was, and I am. He was shaking, and that just moved me to another extent.

How cute. And touching.

I was happy. So, so happy.

I accepted the ring. I accepted his feelings. I accepted his heart as I open my heart for him and him alone. I’ve never opened my heart to anyone else, even when they insisted that they really do like me. It felt as though a heavy burden had just be lifted off of my shoulders. And then I realised that all of this time, maybe, maybe I do feel for him longer than I thought.

How come I never realised he was the one I was waiting for in my life?

Somehow in the end, I’m just a girl who is always fearful of so many untold possibilities. Sometimes when I look at him, I think about how long he’s going to feel this way for me. I think about the possibility of him getting bored of me after a while, or of him realising that he’s chosen the wrong person after all. After all, I’m not that much of an interesting person to hang out with, I’m quite possessive, I get jealous quite easily (though I don’t show it), I’m not pretty, and the list goes on and on and on….

But well…

Dear Zaki,

When you’re in doubt, come back to this lengthy entry I wrote for you. Come back and read every word because I meant every word with all my heart. When you think I’m being annoying, come back to this entry and consider it my apology for being such a girly girl at times. When you think I’m being pushy and you can’t stand it, come back to this entry and see that I am just a scared person who might be thinking about you more than you’re thinking about me.

It’s okay if you don’t think about me so often. It’s okay if you don’t spend time with me so often. It’s okay if you don’t want to walk with me or stay next to me so often. It’s okay if you think I probably am not the one you imagine spending the rest of your life with. As long as your feelings for me are sincere, you’ll make me very happy, and I’ll try to make you happy too. I can’t promise much, but I can at least promise that I will try my hardest to not break your heart; so please try not to break mine. Please, please, please try. Maybe we’ll argue here and there, now and then, but that’s parts and parcel of life. As long as you stay loyal to me, I promise that my eyes won’t ever divert to another. We’ve both been through so much in this life. We’ve both been through (what you call) emotional blockades of sorts. We’ve both been heartbroken and used before. We both have deep scars that run deeper than anyone thinks.

I may not know what love really means, but I don’t mind learning the meanings with you.

Pinky promise?

Sealed with a flying kiss,

W. I. Adlina ~2010~
Written originally on May 12. Final revision written on June 8.
Approximately 2050 words.

A Crack in the Wood & A Splash in the Sand

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted my last assignment. Just a few days ago, I sat for my final exam. The next semester? It’s all practicum. I’ll be going to SMK Seri Saujana (info, anyone?) with Hanin and Mira, but this post isn’t about practicum. Not yet. It’s not that I’m not ready to go into school for actual teaching. I’ll be lying if I say I’m not scared, because I am, but I’m not ready to let go just yet.

I may be quick to have a change of heart at certain things, but to let go of the last five years is something very hard. I know I’d still see my best buddies until the end of this semester and during practicum. Next year is still over 6 months away but I’m already thinking about separation. I know I’m not close to every one of my coursemates, but I acknowledge and applaud them for their unique personality that makes them… well, them. You can describe someone without mentions of names and we’d probably right away know whom you’re talking about. If I can sum up my coursemates in one word, I only know of one:

A W E S O M E

I probably won’t ever come across similar lot of people anymore – people with talents ranging from sewing to drawing to singing to playing multiple musical instruments to sports et cetera et cetera. It makes me a bit sad. When I return to my hometown, it’s probably going to be even harder to find people like them. Don’t try to correct me. I know this by experience. Even if you think your lot is 100 times more awesome, I can’t verify that since I don’t know them (duh!). Will there still be someone who’d listen to me when I speak or joke?

When I was in secondary school, I remember my teacher saying something like “The friends you make during the last 5-6 years of your life as students are likely to be the ones who’d stay in touch with you throughout your whole life our of pure friendship. They’re likely to be the ones you’d remember the most anyway, so cherish them always.” I seriously hope this is true.

Mira, Hanin, Khairiyyah, Nisrin, Hijrah, Lucille, Zu Lee, Rozi, Dyau, Fifi (I’m stuck calling you that, LOL, sorry!), Zaki, Fayadh, Atie and the name goes on. You guys know which ones of you lot changed bits and pieces of my previously monotonous life. You made me smile, smile, smile, laugh, cry, laugh, smile, cry, smile, and you let me feel all sorts of feelings and emotions – so much that sometimes I’m scared of how dependent I’ve become on my friends. Thank you for being my friends. Thank you for even listening to whatever I’ve crapped about.

I’ve been through changes, like the once smooth surface of wood now lavished with cracks here and there that let sunshine, wind and even rain through. Some parts, though, remain the same, but not so – just like a splash of water to the sand. Splashes after splashes, changes in texture are bound to happen, but they probably would not be so noticable, unlike those obvious cracks in the wood. Some changes made me happy, some not so. I want to leave IPBA so much because sometimes, it feels like I’m living in a military camp where some of the higher ups bark rudely and bitchy-ly most of the times. At the same time, I don’t want to leave my friends and the happy time we had.

And now I also have wonderful juniors as apartment mates and young friends, and special mention to Shap for being my cute and not so naive (anymore because there’s Mira and me , LOL) roommate. Our time of knowing each other is short, but at least I want you people to know how happy you made me feel when you acknowledged my existence.

I’m being emotional. Maybe it’s the time (4.18am). Maybe it’s just me.

And now I’ve lost the stream of words I was supposed to write down. Maybe I’ll continue later.

Ciao.

p.s/ Credit to Zaki for the photo.

Because I Can’t Not Categorise Love

oveachance

Or it could be that I think too much. Lately, my mother has been pestering me about the matters of love to no ends. Always reminding me that Allah created us to love and be loved. Always reminding me that I need someone in my life other than immediate family – to love. Always reminding me that I can’t survive on her love alone forever. Always reminding me that I need to learn to love, and to learn to accept love.

I may be able to learn to love, but I honestly think it would be hard for me to learn to accept love. I’m the type who thinks too much at times, and doesn’t want to think sometimes. I wish I could be as outgoing and joyful as some of my friends. I tried. I failed. It’s not about confidence or even the classic “I’m overweight and not pretty and a geek and cannot mix well with people” either. No. I don’t care about that. I’m not pressured either. Heck, what do you think? My beloved best friend is underweight and fair and pretty and cute (I hope she’s not reading this) and of mixed blood (not that I’m not one myself, but still) and more, you’d think I’d be feeling so low just to stand by her if I shoot myself down based on looks.

Based on the paragraph above, you can see how I think too much even when I only meant to say ‘I don’t care much’. You get the picture. That’s the kind of person I am. I describe things to much. Think about them too much. When it comes to emotional matters, it only gets worse.

For me, love comes in types. I categorise people in my live into different love types. There you go. It’s because I categorise people that I’m this way. I hate crowds. I prefer doing tasks on my own, so I’m worried about myself because my profession clearly states me to be more social. When Mom tells me to ‘try accepting xxx feelings’, I told her that I’d feel weird that way. It’s like trying to allow someone into my small circle of love. My brain has this weird schema where I put myself at the center of a circle, surrounded by layers much similar to our earth itself. The innermost layers are my family, and then my best friends, and then my friends. Where in that layer would,say, a boyfriend fit into? It’s like trying to destroy an established equilibrium. Now let’s look at my types of love:

  1. Filial
    It’s the special kind of love I have for my parents. The way I feel about them cannot be compared, or even described. It’s the greatest kind of love you can have for another human being. That’s why I can never understand or comprehend people who tell their lovers “You’re the one I love most in the whole world”. That mentality alone disgusts me. Filial love cannot be replaced. Never. I was rebellious, I know I sometimes still am. Really. This love I have for them is the type that always instantly gets me into ‘guilty, suicidal mode’ when I defy them or think of defying them.
  2. Familial
    The love I feel for my brothers, sisters-in-law, nephews and nieces. And probably my close extended family members as well, like my aunts and uncles and cousins. It’s almost like loyalty. No matter how much they annoy me, I can never come close to hating them. True, I could say “Dammit, I fucking hate you” to my brothers, but we all know I don’t mean it. My brothers are both hot headed. They were almost always at each others throat up until they grew into working adults and got married. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy sometimes, when they’d e-mail me or text me or just called me all the way from Malaysia just to see what I’m doing. Not that I’d ever tell them. My niece and nephews, though we seldom see each other, they have this cute attachment to me. Always calling me name and asking me stuff when we have the chance to see each other on Skype. Hmm.
  3. Platonic
    The love I feel for my best friends (and possibly, crushes). Close, intimate, affectionate – but never romantic. We tolerate all those jokes. We take less than an hour to get back on good terms when we offend each other. We care when one of us gets sick. We relate some things to each other when we go shopping, something like “Hey, this shirt will suit [insert name here] really well!” or “Doesn’t that remind you of [name here]? That’s so her/his style!” It’s the same as familial – just that we’re not related by blood. I can name a few, like Mira, Hanin, Khairiyyah, Keith… yes, yes, you guys are my light. And a few others. Even this one guy
  4. Romantic
    The kind of love I think people feel towards their boyfriends/ girlfriends/ spouses. This is in a different teritory all together. I’ve never sit in this zone. I’ve never felt like wanting to build a warm, loving family with someone. Truthfully, I am scared of this type of love. Romantic love, to me, have its branches. I’m afraid of possessive love the most – the one where you have an unhealthy feeling of wanting someone only for yourself and vice versa. There’s just a lot of things about romantic love that I’m scared of. I… can’t help it.
  5. Respect
    The kind of love I feel for friends, and sometimes, some guys I had a crush on. Respect is a lot like love, and maybe even loyalty too. I don’t take sides. If friend A and friend B are at each other’s throats, I don’t take sides. If they should choose me as someone to confide in, I’ll listen to both sides of the story and keep what I know to myself. I respect them that way. I’ll feel concerned if something happens to any of them. I don’t pry more than I’m allowed to know. I just try to be a good friend. I may not answer their texts sometimes, but that’s mainly because I have no credit left to reply with. Sad, I know…

Categorising people are bad, my Mom said. But I don’t categorise people per se. She misunderstood me. I just categorise love. And she said she couldn’t understand my types of love. I thought I was being clear enough. Frank enough. Apparently, she didn’t think so. She still doesn’t think so.

She insists that normal people are born to feel love. Normal people are born to love. It’s natural to feel love and to be loved. But what I would like to say is: It is also common to not be born normal.

Guh. All these are hurting my braincells. I still need to finish my travel logs. I’ll probably backdate them anyway.

What Hurt The Most

My past few days have been nothing but sleep, sleep, Hearts, assignment, sleep, stare, Hearts, sleep, assignment, ….. I’ve done crazy things like shouting, crying, sleeping all day, cutting my hair after looking at the mirror for too long a time, eat more pills and tablets than usual, etc. My small brain has been trying to grasp a point beyond my reach – thinking about too many things in one go. I have never been so glad to have traquillisers in my closet. Somehow, tranquillisers or no tranquillisers, my mind simply refused to stop thinking. I thought about all the good things that made me laugh, only to be reminded of the many times I almost cried my eyes out like a baby. And I thought about all the things that hurt the most (or at least in my point of view).

Family
When your parents claim they know who you really are. Sometimes, you’re not even sure of who you really are. It is a wonder how other people are so smart to be able to get to know the real you. Some parents really do know their children – what they think, how they feel, everything. But some parents ‘think’ they know who their children are just because they ‘are’ parents. What they think do not necessarily be real because most parents believe their children to grow up exactly what they want them to be. They simply refuse to believe that their children do not grow up exactly like the moulds they created. This will later lead to confusion and major misunderstandings between the children and the parents. Both sides insist not to let their guards down, and so the misunderstandings will carry on and on. You know what hurt the most? To be referred to as worthless and ‘good for nothing’ child when you tried so hard to be what they want you to be.

And I know how that feels. Thank God the whole misunderstandings and miscommunication are now half-solved, if not fully resolved.

Love and Relationship
Everybody, whether they like it or not, have thought (or think or are thinking) about love and relationship at one point (or many points) of their lives. Even for those who claimed that they are never going to get married, they actually ‘thought’ about matters of love and relationship before coming to such a harsh conclusion. Sometimes when you see couples walking down the road, chatting happily and looking all lovey-dovey, you tend to coo and say things like ‘Ooh, that’s so sweet!’ or ‘How cute!’. You know what hurt the most? To fall in love alone.

Unrequited love is the poison much deadlier than any other. It kills a person from the inside out, reducing him or her to an emotional wreck. When I feel a bit relaxed (after going through all the notes and assignment papers), I sometimes think to myself:
[+] Why do people fall in love? What’s the point of ‘being in love’?
[+] Why do some people fall in love alone?
[+] Why does it hurt so much to be in love?
[+] What is ‘love’, anyway?

I know a few people who want to be in a relationship just because their peers have theirs. A guy friend of mine even admitted that the main reason he wanted to have a girlfriend is because his friends were all in a relationship, not because he actually like someone and want to be with that someone. Guess what? I almost slapped him. The only reason I didn’t was because he was a good friend. If not, I would have slapped the hell out of him.

Thinking too much is equivalent to drinking poison, or at least that’s what I think. While knowing full well that matters of the heart are something we have no conscious control on, I still feel like apologising to the person I like just because I happen to like him. Sometimes, all I wanted to say was ‘I’m sorry I like you. I’m sorry for liking you more than just as a friend.‘ I feel like laughing and crying at once when such thought crosses my mind.

The funny thing is that I am fully aware that no one is actually at fault.

Friendship
To feel unappreciated is almost common in a way, or it’s just that I’ve gotten used to it already. Or maybe not, considering the flickering taste of hurt and bitterness I feel sometimes. Well, consider a situation in which you have done so many things for your beloved friend. You waited for her, walked with her, laughed with her, cracked jokes, gave her stuffs,… How would you feel when the very same friend whines and talks bad things about you to other friends? Surely you’d feel betrayed, won’t you?

To a friend who patiently waited for you because they don’t want you to walk a dark path alone, do you not wait for her if she were to walk a dark path on her own? Do you just leave her there and go about your merry way? Yesterday she said ‘I’ll wait for you. Take your time!’ and today you say ‘I’m sorry, I can’t wait for you. I’m not used to walking as slowly as you do.’

How selfish can one get in friendship? When you’re selfish, they shun you. When you’re selfless, they take advantage of you and take you for granted. When you’re quiet, people think you’re unfriendly. What, then?

Identity
In HDV, we talked about identity crisis and the phases one goes through before finding their true identity. I do not quite agree about ‘changing your personality so you fit in’ rule. To me, it is plain bullshit. Why would you have to change just to fit in? Why do you have to change so much? Little changes for the better are good, but major ones like changing the way you present yourself or the way you look are a little bit too much. So what if they can’t accept your ways? They’re not your true friends, then. A circle of true friends accept each other’s strength and weaknesses.

I really do think too much, don’t I?