Saturday, 19th July 2008.
I woke up feeling more lethargic than ever – like i’ve never been so tired ever before.
I somehow had the same odd premonitions that he would call me that very night, I see signs of it. I just knew it.
Everything happened in coincidence – the other phone brought to work, the other phone being used, the other phone being picked up flashing his name.
He came, he told, he cared.
It was all I needed to know.
I am getting more and more demotivated.
I want to start giving up and go home.
I need the gist and zest to move on and get going.
how?
I had two interviews back to back and because I wanted to go home so badly, because in my mind all I wanted was to go home and likely because I had the job with ntl, I am not keen to do anything else. I am just not bothered.
I need to be myself again.
To soar high and fly.
‘You have an extremely beautiful smile ya know!’
That was how I was being greeted today at Barlow House. A simple praise lifted my day – the way to start a day and boosted my confidence for the interview.
That was not the first that I get, I remember a lot of people telling me that I have got an enchantingly amazing smile to date, with the sparkle in my eyes. Weird, but I thought I have lost that smile and sparkle.
=)
To us, remember the first time we sat next to each other? At the Chinese buffet whereby I forced those black ugly jelly down your throat and you practically ate everything I told you to, I even remember what you wore, somehow – that yellow jumper from Reiss that I like so so much.
I recall how I often stared at you back at College, whenever you left the room, and your significant bum which I absolutely adore. I don’t remember speaking much to you, in actual fact we didn’t. Nonetheless, I saw and caught you staring at me before. Sweet =)
You marked my life – you constantly reminded me on a daily basis on beautiful I am, you changed my perception – I will remember that short sweet six months we spent together.
Thank you.
Today a guy asked me to go on dates with him. DATES with S, to get to know him and give myself a chance. Ha, NO. I said blatantly and I tried avoiding the topic the entire night.
I am just not ready. From Kuan Meng to Chen Soon back to Kuan Meng to Weng Learn, Han Sian and Neil. My last three was almost back to back. Goodness, I forgot how it is like to be single. And now that I am, I want to enjoy it. Make the most of it.
So that the next one that comes my way, I would know how to appreciate him, to love him unconditionally and to give him my very best, without thinking of my past and worrying about nothing.
Of course I want attention from men, when they shower us unceasingly with all their might, but whoring for attention is completely different when you are just satisfied with yourself.
I can’t even sort my life out, what more a relationship?
Chill out lar
Seeing Hui Yee studying so hard for her Pharmaceutical exams made me miss studying for my ICAS so so much. If only I can turn back time and pass it the first time. Then, this would not have happened.
22 September 2005. Min and I hopped onto the Magic Bus at Piccadilly Garden where we saw three young men holding badminton racquets, one an Indian, one a thin Chinese-looking boy and one we could not define him. They were definitely either Malaysians or Singaporeans.
Feeling the discomfort from their stares, glares and loud smirks, Min and I shifted to the back. 15 minutes later, we rang the bell for our stop and coincidentally the three stooges took off there too. After much hesitation and decision, Min pushed me forward and I stared rather rudely at the big Indian guy, having in thoughts wanting to ask them where do they play that game. Words got stuck and after about 2 minutes, and feeling that slight embarassment, we all alighted and went our separate ways. I watched the Indian, the Chinese and the other guy walk away chatting lightly.
One day later, during Malaysian freshers’ BBQ, we saw them boys again. This time, we braved ourselves and
approached the Indian guy. We made friends, and the Chinese guy appeared. We asked for the other boy and as he emerged, Min and I could not recognise “the third guy”. He was astonishingly different – somewhat a transformation. We made friends, exchanged numbers and never saw each other for a good few weeks again.
Never would I have thought, that fateful day on the bus was what would brought Han Sian and I together. Never would I have thought, I met my 2-years boyfriend on the bus thinking that I would have spent the rest of my life with him.
Never would I have thought, I would be here today, 20 June 2008, I once again rode on the Magic Bus, only this time not even having a thought or two about him but instead, I gazed the twilight of the night from Didsbury to Oxford Road, having thoughts about Neil and my future.
I am numb. I don’t feel anything. Maybe because I don’t want to. I’ve got a job offer. I was not chuffed, I was not celebrating, I was just indifferent. Maybe because I don’t want to face disappointment again. Maybe because these treacherous six months are beginning to weigh me down. And perhaps I am already faltering.
I don’t feel anything towards Neil. I don’t particularly miss him, I don’t uniquely want to see him, I just don’t.
As much as I hate asking myself why am I still staying here, I cannot avoid this. I am staying because I am positive I will get a better job. I am staying because I want to save and earn as much money as possible. I am staying for the slightest reason, because I think Neil took part of me and locked it up and I wanted to stay for him, for me, for us. I want to let myself loose and love. But I forbid myself because no men are worth my tears and sacrifices anymore.
I am scared and scarred. I am hurt and I detest. I am numb and I don’t feel. I am indifferent.
I want but I don’t want to.
I just want to be normal. yet again.
Happy birthday to me. This year being the saddest, most pathetic and worst birthday for now I think it is.
I remember having grand parties every year – in fact I am used to parties. used to being the Queen. And now, I am all alone in my room. Dressed up, – no where to go. No one to see.
The blooming spring flowers, the wet summer wind, the long lasting summer day, and mine was yet plain and nothing exciting.
I trailed my footsteps, and asked around panting after those kind people around the lovely Cheadle neighbourhood. I travelled an hour to work today and an hour forth.
After much thoughts and hesitation, I have decided to stay here at least until the end of the year – to work my big fat ass off, I have a temporary position now, five days a week and they pay quite well BUT i have to take a train, walk and reach, got myself a night job at a restaurant too.
I realise I cannot write when i’m feeling indifferent. My stories are not quite yet.
At least I am happy for now.
As I trailed along Market Street down to Deansgate, my mind provoked with thundering thoughts and unanswered questions, the MEN newspaper man handed me a copy and I smiled, a soft unhearty smile – one of which only an unemployed graduate will bear, i heaved a small sigh and walked out, he greeted me goodbye with a ‘Have a good day you love!’. His teeth was stained, yellow, almost black, his hair was greasy, and his fingers were tainted with black charcoaled dirt. Yet, he was happy, yet he was determined to find a job, even as a newspaper man.
Then, I gazed dreamily down the cobbled-stones street of Manchester – probably the busiest street of all day, people trafficking your way, mothers with pram, men in suit, women in heels, Manc-scullys (what we call them) in Ugg boots-look-alike, kids with ice-cream and those random Chinese people shouting their way through a conversation, plus you hear the occasion Big Issue sellers yelling ‘Big Issue!’ and there I was wandering and wondering my life away. Amidst the noisy street, I could only hear words of disgrace and wrath towards myself in my head. The devil was speaking.
Another kind man approached me and shoved a ‘Big Issue’ magazine to me, I shook my head – he smiled ‘Have a nice day love!‘. He gritted his teeth and he does not have the front four teeth – he was scrawny and gaunt – probably on coke, i reckon.
I looked at myself, clad in a Zara jacket, Zara bag, crisp white Zara shirt with a pleated skirt, black tights in Vincci heels and my face was sewn in gloom. But underneath the sad face, I was powdered with Lancome serum, Derma moisturiser, Stila sunscreen, Lancome foundation, Lancome mascara, Lancome blusher, wearing Gucci perfume – and why am i moaning my life away when I possibly have everything and the best of all to me, compared to kids in Burma, the dead in China? The men down the street?
If a Big Issue man, if a MEN Newspaper man can get jobs, why can’t I?
Afterall, I am a graduate, 22 years old, with a fluorescent CV, slightly experienced – amazing interpersonal skills. I should be grateful, thankful for all the things. But I am not.
Why?
