The Unbearable Sweetness of Being

Do we live in the physical world that we can touch?
Or do we live in the world that we create in our minds?
- Jesse Bradford, My Sassy Girl

What is love? Should it be that of which matches your ideal perception of love, one that resides in your head. Are we to propose this theory and inflict it upon our other half. I mean, is that how it’s supposed to be? I’m sure people tell you to find the common ground, to compromise, to give and take. And yet we all live by our impulses and lust. Shouldn’t it be that we have rules and principles? But how does one find their match? Do we change? Mould each other into our very own personalized model? If so, who should change. Should there be a permanent dominant half? Or should there be different roles one takes the lead?

Should love find its way into the realm of friendship and companions? Where we share secrets, our passions and fears. Should we be able to laugh at each other, unashamed to make mistakes and then make love? Should we cry and then fart, and burp and get sick, vomit, bleed.

Love.

Does it actually mean being able to be the most human you can be, without having any doubts whatsoever?

And then, do we always receive love. Even at the expense of the sender?

“We are artists, condemned to live through out art for we know not how to live in our lives”
-  Trust the  Man

So, what should I do?

Just do it.

But I’ll be alone.

You have me.

No I don’t. You’re always here and there.

I’m always here. It’s not like I have anyone else.

But you’ve left me before.

I need space.

Exactly!

I need space for a while. Not forever.

Right.

Even after 10 years, I still don’t get it. And it gets awkward at times.

What is reality?
It’s whatever the majority deems it to be. It’s not necessarily the best or the most logical, but it’s the one that supports the desires of society as a whole.
- Veronika Must Die, Paulo Coelho

The first time I met him, it was the first day of tutorials. I was lost and so was he. That would be one of the few times I got lost, but for him, one of many MANY more to come. He ended up squatting on the floor, pulling out a map – yes, Iseriously. On the first day, that first time I met him, he already fascinated the HELL OUT OF ME. He felt familiar, and the way he looked at me, like ‘Yeah, I know what you mean’. Being in this foreign planet and then meeting him, was like grasping onto something safe. He was intriguing, in the fact that he was all too familiar.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it.”
- Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert

What is the real ‘I’?
It is what you are, not what others make of you
- Veronika Decides to Die, Paulo Coelho

I know I am where I should be. 
I know what I want, and I know that I have it
And yet, I don’t know who I am

We keep chasing the wrong things
- Zuriani Yusof

And then he mentioned The Reader
I want to I want to, but not like this - not alone

This life was meant to be shared.
Sufi buttons, life terbalik

it’s still a surprise to me

because i know you

are you okay?

knowing you, that wouldn’t be enough

(Wrote on Feb 15 2009)

“I want you to get into the deep beautiful melancholy of everything that’s happened”
- Kirsten Dunst, Elizabethtown

Everyone goes through kesusahan. It may be of a different form, but at some point in our lives, we all go through it. God is fair. Essentially, we are all the same.

But how can I say that, in the wake of the terror in Gaza. Who am I to compete with that kind of kesusahan? What greatness awaits them, if not in the Afterlife. Peace be upon them.

But, God is fair.

I believe that he sends challenges and obstacles that He sees befits us. Likewise, with pleasure.

When a homeless man in New York City was given one hundred thousand dollars, just to see if it would change his life. Would he invest in the stock market or get a reasonable house, food and clothing; it was found that he had spent it all in one week over junk. It sort of makes you think twice about giving money to the people on the streets huh?

But, it also doesn’t mean that some people deserve the pain or pleasure they are receiving.

Ah, I’m rambling under the pretense of “philosophy”. It’s not supposed to make sense.

Too much love intially, precipatates you.
And then, it’s dissolving.
Indah dan buta, that’s the hazard of it all.
The glorious majesty of being sucked in by your imagination
The ideality of life as you see it
Created by you, and you alone.
And it is me. Alone.

I thought you loved me differently.

Aalia was right, it comes with pain and only then do you feel alive.
I’m quivering all over, so alive until I’m so near to death.

The more we talk, the less I want to find out,
the more it’s crushing, gripping, choking, strangulating, tightening me.

I’m tertiary to you

Kaulah segalanya untukku
Kaulah curahan hati ini
Tak mungkin ku melupakanmu
Tiada lagi yang kuharap
Hanya kau seorang
-Sahanaya Ruth

It was perfect, too perfect.
That you knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed.
I’d never ask for anything so specific,
and yet you could give it to me.
Unwillingly, so specifically

Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you
- Elvis Presley

And even if someone better would come along,
I didn’t care.
I just really wanted this
I don’t want it to end

“Don’t leave me please”

We are all human. All we want is more.

Daily frustrations, dissatisfactions. In the wake of the New Year, why is the grass always greener on the other side?

This life doesn’t feel like my own.

Would you understand my lumps and bumps,

all my quirks and fancies

Could you laugh when I’m ridiculous instead of my mistakes

Could you somehow find something in you that makes me better

And dive deep inside me to show me my mirror

Could you break me down and build me up

Could you push me away and let me find you again

Oh, would you let me cry first

Could you trust that I’ll find my own way

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching their highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to sount with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes too long) waiting fot the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

- Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

But furthermore, I fall in love with the idea that the highest potential of a man can bring out the highest potential in me.

Especially being immersed in a late-night conversation - silly stories creep up. Sweet young love, thinking that this was how real it was ever gonna get. Where we bare our souls and explored our passions and desires, where we explored our bodies and conquered each other. Where we dared to dream and believe that with this kind of love, we were unstoppable against the world.

Feels like a dream, how ridiculously young we were. I drive by the bus stands every day, getting flashbacks of how we’d curl in each other’s arms and spend whatever time we had before we had to go back and wait to see each other ’til the next day. I wanna cry, thinking I want all those things back. But honestly, it doesn’t work that way. Even I don’t work that way anymore. Relationships are risks that we proceed with caution. Every gesture marks a milestone - like holding hands, hugs, kisses, the L-word. And when things don’t necessarily follow that order or just suddenly spring themselves up on you, the thing we do is run the other direction. When did I start to fear love?

We believed we would marry each other anyway. Even when we weren’t of the exact same faith, somehow we’d imagine it’ll happen. Love, of course, find it’s way, does it not? I barely even remember the dream except that he wanted a girl - one small girl he could spoil, and she would be as adorable and beautiful as me. Now even the mere sight of the M-word scares me and the future is so, so bleak. As the years count themselves on, more and more of the things I had hoped to see doesn’t show up.

I hide in the present, absorbing the sheer joy of it but plainly because the dream of any future scares me - holding on to anything, scares me. Remeniscing the past has always been a favourite past time of mine as I seem to be incapable of letting go. Even cruel past boyfriends, I still have pseudo-conversations with them in my head, choosing favourite memories as I go along and reliving them. It’s like the only way I can hold on to happiness in my own two hands, how I can control them and call them up whenever I please.

The Christmas decorations, the Christmas carols, the school nativity play, writing letters to Santa, when everything was young and pretty… this is why, come December I cry.

Whether your life brings heartache or whether your life brings joy
Whatever the price takes for now you’re my baby boy
Im trying so hard to be brave but I just want to hold you tight
Sleep precious child through the night

I have to get up in about 3 hours to help Daryl with his Christmas shopping. Somehow, it makes me sad wishing that I could have my own Christmas all to myself instead of borrowing someone else’s…

Initially, he was just a curiosity that I just wanted to explore.

I was attracted to the way his elbows and feet teased me,

the way they paid attention to all the tingling that were crying out.

Physically, he understands me the best.

From the smallest, insignificant details to realising my largest fantasies.

And yet, he knows my phantom restrictions,

glorifying them.

Last night, I dreamed that he wanted to fix things with me.

I remember how I’d get into your car in the middle of the night. You’d make me roll down the window, and I’d be so high on insomnia that I’d talk and talk to you. Your face, amused asking me what’s wrong with me. That was when hearing my voice wasn’t bad.

I remember how we’d start our meals quiet. And then out of the blue, you’d tell me something I never thought of asking. When I smile and barely respond, it’s as if I provoked you and you’re like a boy who finally got someone to listen. When we go out, I’d come back with conversations of you, how dominating you were.

I remember how you’d pause and linger on your words to wind me up. You were cautious and adventurous. How we’d have a back and forth banter that would end up feeling so good. I remember how you fire me up, made me feel every feeling I had ever felt. Like I was truly alive.

I remember how you’d tell a joke in front of other people. You’d tell it while looking at me. While everyone else laughed, you’d hold my gaze and wait to see my response. How we’d whisper and mutter behind everyone else’s conversations. Was I your person?

I remember how I used to touch you, and push you around. How I’d punch you and jerked you. We were touchy and then we weren’t. When did that happen?

And when you said that you were closer to me, that we were close. And how I didn’t believe it and wanted to believe you… I wonder how that all went away.

“I’m different when I’m with them. I’m different when I’m with you”

You said it will all change, and I didn’t see how it could be. I swore I wouldn’t let it. But somehow, you did.

And I think of how I lost you and how I want it all back. I dream of fixing it, but I just don’t know how.

In my defense, I could always say he liked me first. That was my safety net.

“Don’t you think it’s all happening a little too fast?”

But that’s just me. I’ve never known how to take things slow or shut up. I hate waiting, not knowing for sure. Were there signs? I guess I missed all of them and I let it all happen.

The chases, the surprises and everything I spent. I wondered if it mattered. And what if one day I’m not that different, and I’m just ordinary and boring.

In other words, it was the other way around.

I hate the silence.
When we eat, when we sit.
I can’t deny it.
I wish I could fix it.

I want a conversation, I want real words, I wana know what you think about everything. When you start to share, I want to grab on to it. But that’s not the way it should be.

I dream about blurting out random nothings, of sharing silly confessions and useless details that bring us closer. I suddenly realise what a difference a simple ”Are you okay?” makes. And I somehow find myself longing for those arguements in the car or on the escalator. I wish that I could know if I could yell or cry in front of you. Because then I’d be able to be the absolutely real me.

“I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings”
- Ryan Gosling, The Notebook

I want that.

I feel like the world’s most crappiest - ever. Like, any minute, you’d get tired of me and chuck me away. I destroy you when I love you. I’m smothering you and choking you, it’s as if I don’t know how.

And I wish that you’d go break my heart before I let you stop breathing. I’m pulling you away from everything that you know. You think that you’ve made me belong to you, but it feels like I’m making you mine.

“And I’m afraid that one day I won’t be able to spend time with you”

I’ve had one of the best 24 hours of my life. I didn’t sleep a wink so that I wouldn’t miss a thing. You and your responsibilities, the way you take care of things. I like it a lot.

And then I came home and I wanted to cry. I felt so wrong for doing all this to you. For robbing you of your sleep, your meals and crushing all your plans. Inevitably, you turn everything around for me and I hate doing that to you.

I was so mad at you. I was so mad that I was there and you didn’t see. And when you told me your good news, I wanted to be happy, I really tried to. But I couldn’t forget the sudden explosion the day before.

How could you react like that when you didn’t know? You didn’t bother to tell me in real words what was going on. You flipped and stormed out, leaving me in a daze. You came back with that wall built around you. It was agonising. I wanted to leave, but I knew I couldn’t.

So I gave in. And let go. And I let you ride along with me. And it’s not fair that you made me sink that low. For nothing. Stupid me for thinking it was important.

How did you get me this way?