Monday, July 28, 2008
Moving Along
All work and no play makes P a very dull girl. As a lady of leisure, I found myself in this paradoxical state- neither do I work nor play. Well, guess I work a few hours on week days on my own initiatives and the beauty of it is that my timing is flexible. But with the luxury of time on my hands, I noticed a dwindling number of friends to play with since miraculously, the friends who used not to have a job and had all the time in the world to indulge me in late night drinking and parties have now got themselves a real full time job. V also no longer lives close to me and B is now married and will from hereon remain a social hermit.I don't even get to see her very much anymore. Falling out of favour with the Old Boy also means that he wasn't about to bend backwards for me, even if I became the doormat, my social activities were dependent on his willingness to oblige me. The past three weeks, I have waited on the sidelines with little success.
Still trying to mend my tattered heart from the Old Boy, I find my emotional self being caught in a mental fix. On one hand, I am frisky and itching for intimacy. I haven't had any real intimacy since March- the Argentinian doesn't quite count. On the other hand, I have found myself losing interest in sex. Not sex per se but sex with anyone apart from the Old Boy. It's been hindering my bedtime fantasies since I would only want him to be that character in my dreams but at the same time, I have been trying to abstain from indulging in reminiscing about him. It's a strange dilemma I find myself being caught in- my physical desires are being barricaded by my emotions. I am even too disheartened to DIY with the vibrator and I find myself losing my mojo.
*****
On Thursday, I received a text from the Old Boy:
Hello good morn. I drive up to I*** tomolo morn n don't tink i'll see u nor communicate until u get back from yr hiatus. Have a gd trip dear. Take care ok?
My best friends have been really sick and tired of my strong feelings for the Old Boy where I worked myself into emotional knots. Even my Old Boy-breaks-my-heart is getting a tad stale for myself and I am beginning to hate me heaps. So there, I thought this occasion might well be timely for me to wean myself off him before I fly off for my pilgrimage next Thursday. Thirty-nine days of non-communication might well be a circuit breaker to break all bad habits. You see, for the past year and a half, the Old Boy rarely have a complete break from communicating with each other, especially online and apart from the childish incident of the washing machine. I was his weekdays 9.am habit as he was my 11a.m Aussie time habit.
My heart grew heavy with the thought but I had gritted determination since I am becoming aware of my out-of-hand condoning/ weakling/ soft behaviour towards the Old Boy. It was getting all too emotionally unhealthy and heart wrenching for me to handle. If I didn't do anything to extricate myself from my irrational behaviour, I will be going down. I can't afford to.
*****
As if heaven (with flexible morals) is also getting bored with my lack of new romantic adventures to re-enact, that very evening, very coincidentally, yours truly found new play.
(More to be unravelled in the next post).
All work and no play makes P a very dull girl. As a lady of leisure, I found myself in this paradoxical state- neither do I work nor play. Well, guess I work a few hours on week days on my own initiatives and the beauty of it is that my timing is flexible. But with the luxury of time on my hands, I noticed a dwindling number of friends to play with since miraculously, the friends who used not to have a job and had all the time in the world to indulge me in late night drinking and parties have now got themselves a real full time job. V also no longer lives close to me and B is now married and will from hereon remain a social hermit.I don't even get to see her very much anymore. Falling out of favour with the Old Boy also means that he wasn't about to bend backwards for me, even if I became the doormat, my social activities were dependent on his willingness to oblige me. The past three weeks, I have waited on the sidelines with little success.
Still trying to mend my tattered heart from the Old Boy, I find my emotional self being caught in a mental fix. On one hand, I am frisky and itching for intimacy. I haven't had any real intimacy since March- the Argentinian doesn't quite count. On the other hand, I have found myself losing interest in sex. Not sex per se but sex with anyone apart from the Old Boy. It's been hindering my bedtime fantasies since I would only want him to be that character in my dreams but at the same time, I have been trying to abstain from indulging in reminiscing about him. It's a strange dilemma I find myself being caught in- my physical desires are being barricaded by my emotions. I am even too disheartened to DIY with the vibrator and I find myself losing my mojo.
*****
On Thursday, I received a text from the Old Boy:
Hello good morn. I drive up to I*** tomolo morn n don't tink i'll see u nor communicate until u get back from yr hiatus. Have a gd trip dear. Take care ok?
My best friends have been really sick and tired of my strong feelings for the Old Boy where I worked myself into emotional knots. Even my Old Boy-breaks-my-heart is getting a tad stale for myself and I am beginning to hate me heaps. So there, I thought this occasion might well be timely for me to wean myself off him before I fly off for my pilgrimage next Thursday. Thirty-nine days of non-communication might well be a circuit breaker to break all bad habits. You see, for the past year and a half, the Old Boy rarely have a complete break from communicating with each other, especially online and apart from the childish incident of the washing machine. I was his weekdays 9.am habit as he was my 11a.m Aussie time habit.
My heart grew heavy with the thought but I had gritted determination since I am becoming aware of my out-of-hand condoning/ weakling/ soft behaviour towards the Old Boy. It was getting all too emotionally unhealthy and heart wrenching for me to handle. If I didn't do anything to extricate myself from my irrational behaviour, I will be going down. I can't afford to.
*****
As if heaven (with flexible morals) is also getting bored with my lack of new romantic adventures to re-enact, that very evening, very coincidentally, yours truly found new play.
(More to be unravelled in the next post).
