Wednesday, March 19, 2008
March of Blues
Being back in Asia in March has always been an interesting or trying time of the year for me-socially or romantically speaking.
You see, I am the one hit wonder in December who suddenly falls out of favour by the beau comes March. As the usual story goes, I return with a heavy bucket of tears.
Early morning, I thought I was about to do something destructive to my life.
I woke up feeling like I couldn’t cope with the world, the burden of my heart and the pain of my soul.
I broke down and cried so hard before my dog. Before, we had a nice early morning walk in the autumn cold, which did nothing to inspire me. The greyness and coldness of the weather only compounded the weight of my heart.
**
Yesterday, I touched down in Ozland and went straight to work. Jetlagged and severely overcame by fatigue I was. I treaded carefully at work and remained on high alert as a corporate slave.
That afternoon, I was ditched by the Old Boy on msn. No amount of “I can change to accommodate you and keep you happy” and “but I love you” were enough to keep him. I was just not his type he conceded. Being with me was too stressful he said- he was constantly afraid of getting caught out, he said. Then he went on to say that I could get any guy I wanted and why would I want to stick to him, the married man. Then there was more- P being manipulative in getting her way3, obsessive, possessive, bad attitude and my love of public display of affection (PDA) for him. He has always been uncomfortable around me, couldn’t I see, he asked. He cited that even my friends noticed.
“I will change and tone down the PDA, darling,” I begged emphatically. But it was no good.
“Maybe it’s not about you, it’s me. In short, I just cannot handle it! I cannot handle you, ok!”
Ironically, we both tried very hard with each other.
The Old Boy never failed to “service” me voluntarily. He babied and pampered me in every way he could. I noticed he made the effort to spend a fair bit of money on me, always afraid and self-conscious that the food and presents he were to offer me were not good enough. When it drizzled lightly, he fussed around me with an umbrella, which I dismissed carelessly in my child-like pouty way that I am not a wimp. He never failed to remind me that no one could massage and crack my sore back like he did. For all that, I love him to death. Sadly, it was also for all this, that he couldn’t handle me.
I am so child-like which he dislikes and then when I am strong, he didn’t like it either. How much of a damsel can I be to you, Baby? I asked. He got to see the most child like part of my being, my guard let down and now he was telling me that he didn’t like that part of me that he was privy to?
He was sorry, he said. He still prefers his other silly slaves. They made less stressful and easier company.
All I could say was not good enough-after he got me started and me bending backwards for him in action and pride (as my friends would attest), now he was telling me I was not good enough? I tried, I really did…
By the time, we logged off, my nerves were strung real tight.
DL, whom I hadn’t seen in months was waiting for me downstairs at work. I had to re-compose myself.
We went to our favourite restaurant where we spent many an occasion in the past over wine and sake with the view of the harbour before us discussing the grand plans of our joint future. My heart ached silently when we touched on the topic that we no longer had to worry about our day-to-day lives financially which had traditionally bonded us but ironically, resulted in a lot of resentment. I noticed too that he had grown pensive and perhaps was too quietly aching on why we never finally came together after years of struggling to make our lives work and become in sync. Now that he is finally getting what I meant all along and truly wanted the lifestyle that I had originally proposed for us. I quickly felt the warmth of my tears swelling up my eyes as I turned my face straight to focus on the harbour…
We refrained from holding hands (as a very openly PDA P, whom very strangely had successfully refrained from encouraging a touch as she knows that if she did with DL, she would say yes to him and sail back to her Designated Harbour and hang up her sails for good). Many a moment, we talked in our familiar idiosyncratic way injecting it with the ugliest phrases we had coined so comfortably in each other’s comfort. Even having to fart before him would do little to tease a glimmer of embarrassment from your truly and vice versa. When we walked towards the car with the Fluffball popping her face at the window, he exclaimed like a proud parent, “Isn’t she beautiful?” That is so us. I walked towards Fluffball with my arms wide open and said affectionately, “Mummy and Daddy are back, baby!” For that split second, I detected that mutual pain and regret we shared.
At home, I toned down my bossy ways with DL but still maintained that tone of authority over the choice of his liquid intake- he was to drink water and nothing else before bedtime I insisted. I noticed that it served him some comfort that I was still my old ways and over caring for him. I laid on the couch whilst he watched TV and waited with him until he was ready to retire to bed upstairs, just like the good old days as a couple. I must have fallen asleep for a while and in my groggy stage as he nudged me gently to head to the bedroom to sleep, I vaguely remembered that somehow I might possibly have been sleeping on his lap on one side while he sat on our old familiar couch and with Fluffball on his other side…
But no, we did nothing. Even his mattress had a dividing groove to separate mine.
Then early in the morning, he got changed and left for his flight back home. He bid me farewell in the dark and in my half awoken state, I put my palm to my lips and blew him a kiss goodbye.
I sunk my face into the pillow- my heart performing its torturous somersaults as I recalled the emotional blows the Old Boy has served me less than 24 hours before combined with the pain of my inability to want DL back (despite often tempting to but heavily suppressed with distractions of other social extra curriculum activities that sought to compound emotional problem on problem like now) recalling what a great night we had before and then him leaving just like that, so strangely without a kiss or any words of endearment…
This morning, I was very close to destroying myself or allow my depression to do a free fall…
I did wish that I were dead.
No need for SOS or plea for attention.
Just end it.
****
In the depressive autumn cold of the morning, I walked my dog and again I heard the echoic recitation in mind of my favourite poem:
Love's Dormitory
I am tired of giving my heart
cold showers
and early morning runs on emotion's
playing fields.
My love wanders wide on quiet
studious mornings
so please tell me how long
until the end of this term?
- Stuart Flavell
It was déjà vu- reminding me of the height to my depression in those dark years between 2002-2007, which I thought I have slowly but surely have managed to leave behind.
How was I to learn only now that my soul is fundamentally still one and the same?
Being back in Asia in March has always been an interesting or trying time of the year for me-socially or romantically speaking.
You see, I am the one hit wonder in December who suddenly falls out of favour by the beau comes March. As the usual story goes, I return with a heavy bucket of tears.
Early morning, I thought I was about to do something destructive to my life.
I woke up feeling like I couldn’t cope with the world, the burden of my heart and the pain of my soul.
I broke down and cried so hard before my dog. Before, we had a nice early morning walk in the autumn cold, which did nothing to inspire me. The greyness and coldness of the weather only compounded the weight of my heart.
**
Yesterday, I touched down in Ozland and went straight to work. Jetlagged and severely overcame by fatigue I was. I treaded carefully at work and remained on high alert as a corporate slave.
That afternoon, I was ditched by the Old Boy on msn. No amount of “I can change to accommodate you and keep you happy” and “but I love you” were enough to keep him. I was just not his type he conceded. Being with me was too stressful he said- he was constantly afraid of getting caught out, he said. Then he went on to say that I could get any guy I wanted and why would I want to stick to him, the married man. Then there was more- P being manipulative in getting her way3, obsessive, possessive, bad attitude and my love of public display of affection (PDA) for him. He has always been uncomfortable around me, couldn’t I see, he asked. He cited that even my friends noticed.
“I will change and tone down the PDA, darling,” I begged emphatically. But it was no good.
“Maybe it’s not about you, it’s me. In short, I just cannot handle it! I cannot handle you, ok!”
Ironically, we both tried very hard with each other.
The Old Boy never failed to “service” me voluntarily. He babied and pampered me in every way he could. I noticed he made the effort to spend a fair bit of money on me, always afraid and self-conscious that the food and presents he were to offer me were not good enough. When it drizzled lightly, he fussed around me with an umbrella, which I dismissed carelessly in my child-like pouty way that I am not a wimp. He never failed to remind me that no one could massage and crack my sore back like he did. For all that, I love him to death. Sadly, it was also for all this, that he couldn’t handle me.
I am so child-like which he dislikes and then when I am strong, he didn’t like it either. How much of a damsel can I be to you, Baby? I asked. He got to see the most child like part of my being, my guard let down and now he was telling me that he didn’t like that part of me that he was privy to?
He was sorry, he said. He still prefers his other silly slaves. They made less stressful and easier company.
All I could say was not good enough-after he got me started and me bending backwards for him in action and pride (as my friends would attest), now he was telling me I was not good enough? I tried, I really did…
By the time, we logged off, my nerves were strung real tight.
DL, whom I hadn’t seen in months was waiting for me downstairs at work. I had to re-compose myself.
We went to our favourite restaurant where we spent many an occasion in the past over wine and sake with the view of the harbour before us discussing the grand plans of our joint future. My heart ached silently when we touched on the topic that we no longer had to worry about our day-to-day lives financially which had traditionally bonded us but ironically, resulted in a lot of resentment. I noticed too that he had grown pensive and perhaps was too quietly aching on why we never finally came together after years of struggling to make our lives work and become in sync. Now that he is finally getting what I meant all along and truly wanted the lifestyle that I had originally proposed for us. I quickly felt the warmth of my tears swelling up my eyes as I turned my face straight to focus on the harbour…
We refrained from holding hands (as a very openly PDA P, whom very strangely had successfully refrained from encouraging a touch as she knows that if she did with DL, she would say yes to him and sail back to her Designated Harbour and hang up her sails for good). Many a moment, we talked in our familiar idiosyncratic way injecting it with the ugliest phrases we had coined so comfortably in each other’s comfort. Even having to fart before him would do little to tease a glimmer of embarrassment from your truly and vice versa. When we walked towards the car with the Fluffball popping her face at the window, he exclaimed like a proud parent, “Isn’t she beautiful?” That is so us. I walked towards Fluffball with my arms wide open and said affectionately, “Mummy and Daddy are back, baby!” For that split second, I detected that mutual pain and regret we shared.
At home, I toned down my bossy ways with DL but still maintained that tone of authority over the choice of his liquid intake- he was to drink water and nothing else before bedtime I insisted. I noticed that it served him some comfort that I was still my old ways and over caring for him. I laid on the couch whilst he watched TV and waited with him until he was ready to retire to bed upstairs, just like the good old days as a couple. I must have fallen asleep for a while and in my groggy stage as he nudged me gently to head to the bedroom to sleep, I vaguely remembered that somehow I might possibly have been sleeping on his lap on one side while he sat on our old familiar couch and with Fluffball on his other side…
But no, we did nothing. Even his mattress had a dividing groove to separate mine.
Then early in the morning, he got changed and left for his flight back home. He bid me farewell in the dark and in my half awoken state, I put my palm to my lips and blew him a kiss goodbye.
I sunk my face into the pillow- my heart performing its torturous somersaults as I recalled the emotional blows the Old Boy has served me less than 24 hours before combined with the pain of my inability to want DL back (despite often tempting to but heavily suppressed with distractions of other social extra curriculum activities that sought to compound emotional problem on problem like now) recalling what a great night we had before and then him leaving just like that, so strangely without a kiss or any words of endearment…
This morning, I was very close to destroying myself or allow my depression to do a free fall…
I did wish that I were dead.
No need for SOS or plea for attention.
Just end it.
****
In the depressive autumn cold of the morning, I walked my dog and again I heard the echoic recitation in mind of my favourite poem:
Love's Dormitory
I am tired of giving my heart
cold showers
and early morning runs on emotion's
playing fields.
My love wanders wide on quiet
studious mornings
so please tell me how long
until the end of this term?
- Stuart Flavell
It was déjà vu- reminding me of the height to my depression in those dark years between 2002-2007, which I thought I have slowly but surely have managed to leave behind.
How was I to learn only now that my soul is fundamentally still one and the same?
