last thoughts

If I were straight and had been in a relationship for eight years, chances are very high that I would have been married at some point during those many years. If I had been married and then got divorce, I would have had rights and entitlements. Whether I would have demanded for them is a different matter, but I would have had the right to them.

If I were straight and I had been married, I would now be called a “divorcee”. But as things stand, I don’t know what I am now. I was more than just a casual friend. I was more than “never married”. In some countries, I would have been considered to have been in a “de facto” relationship. So, I am now more than just separated. But I am not divorced. And since I didn’t go through a civil “disunion” - because we never had a civil union - I can’t even be considered a “disunionised individual”.

If I were straight, no one would question my relationship, not even after it had ended. No one would even think to ask why we wanted to live together or why we started to build eight years of our lives around each other. But more importantly, if I were straight, no one would dare negate the existence of our relationship even though it was never formally legalised.

But only if I were straight.

In the final analysis, despite the cynicism, the defeats in the face of life and the struggle to keep up, I think I am still an optimist at heart. That fire may not burn as brightly as before, but I still tend to a flicker of hope, however deeply buried it may be. Otherwise, there would be no point in living.

  

the waves… they’re here again

And I never really sleep anymore
And I always get those dangerous dreams
And I never get a minute of peace
And I gotta wonder what it means
And I gotta wonder what it means
Maybe it’s nothing and I’m under the weather
Maybe it’s just one of those bugs going round
Maybe I’m under a spell and it’s magic
Maybe there’s a witch doctor with an office in town

Is this a blessing? Or is it a curse?
Does it get any better? Can it get any worse?
Will it go on forever? Is it over tonight?
Does it come with the darkness? Does it bring out the light?

- Meat Loaf, “It Just Won’t Quit”

I have been in a constant daze for days. My mind’s not fully here, my presence merely physical. My body refuses to sleep at night, but when I do, I dread waking up the following day. I am meandering in a long dark tunnel, completely disoriented, still looking for the light.

None of this feels real to me - not the fact that my love has turned on me, or the fact that I am out of a home… not even the fact that I might, actually might, be going down to Australia soon for further studies and a whole new life. Has it all been a nightmare? Will I wake up soon? Or will it go on forever?

Forgetting is a constant struggle. The memories play tricks in my mind and my heart tugs with every breath. When you walked out of my life, why didn’t you take the pain with you? Why didn’t you just kill me so I didn’t have to learn and know all this… all this endless pain and hurt?

If I have ever come close to understanding what it feels like to be an amputee without actually being one, this would be it. It constantly feels as if someone’s cut out one of my limbs - my love for you - but I can still sense it as if it’s there… very present, very real… refusing to go away… pressing ever so insistently against my ribcage… throb, throb, throbbing…

Why wouldn’t the waves that wash over me again and again also take me out with them? There have been days when all I want to do is to stop in my tracks, collapse on the ground, and let it all go.

What matters more, the journey or the destination? This is not supposed to be one of those trick questions, where the answer turns out to be, ‘neither, because the journey IS the destination, man.’ I’m simply asking you to consider the difference between a pleasant path that goes nowhere in particular and a dark dank tunnel that eventually brings you out into a wonderful place. I would like you to further contemplate the idea that there’s only one way to reach this Utopia. Now, think again about whether or not you are lucky. You are.
- Cainer for Aries, 02 February 2005

  

i hope you’re happy now

I hope you’re happy now.

after all that drama…
all the hurt you inflicted…
all the pain you caused…

at least one of us had better be.

The next time I have to speak with you, or see you, will be far too soon.

  

packing and storing

Having moved 16 to 17 times in the last 15 years, I’ve learnt a thing or two about packing:

Don’t fill boxes too much
Pack-in only as much as you can carry. On average a box should weigh no more than 20-25 kgs. Anything more than that, you’re unlikely to be able to carry them without risk of injuring your back. And if you can’t do it, don’t expect anyone else to.

Use uniform-sized boxes
This makes storage easier. And the stacked boxes look so much nicer - aesthetics is everything!

Stuff the empty spaces
If you have any empty spaces in the boxes, stuff them with either bubble wrap, styrofoam or crumpled newspaper. This prevents things from moving about too much and would help preserve the condition of your things.

List down content
It’s important to list down the content of each box - at least in a rough general manner. After a few days, you’re not likely to remember what is contained in which box. You definitely do not want to spend hours searching through box after box looking for that illusive book or memento at a later point in time.

Label your boxes
If you’re going to list down the content of each box, it also makes sense to label each box (with a name or number). Label the boxes with markers, pre-printed stickers or stuck on paper. If you can, label the boxes on five sides (the top and the four sides) or at the very least three sides (top and two sides) - this way, no matter which way the boxes are stacked, the label will be visible. And if one label drops off for whatever reason, there are still the others.


 

What I’ve never been able to understand is why book publishers do not standardised the size of books. The odd sizes and dimensions make it very difficult to align and pack them nicely in such a way as not to risk damage to the books.

Finally, if you think all this is very anal, you haven’t heard the rest yet. This time round, I’ve actually gone to the extent of cataloging the academic books and classical music CD in my collection (you’ll find a formatted list for the books here and the CDs here). This way if I need a particular book or CD, I know exactly where it is located and I can easily instruct someone else to locate it for me!!

So many times
Said it was forever
Said our love would always be true
Something in my heart always knew
I?d be lying here beside you
On my own
 
So many promises never should be spoken
Now I know what loving you cost
Now we?re up to talking divorce
And we weren?t even married
 
No one said it was easy
But it once was so easy
Well I believed in love
Now here I stand
I wonder why
 
I?m on my own
Why did it end this way
This wasn?t how it was supposed to be
I wish that we could do it all again
 
So many times
I know I should have told you
Losing you it cut like a knife
You walked out and there went my life
I don?t want to live without you
 
This wasn?t how it was supposed to end
I wish that we could do it all again
I never dreamed I?d spend one night alone
I?ve got to find where I belong again
I?ve got to learn how to be strong again
I never dreamed I?d spend one night alone
By myself by myself
I?ve got to find out what was mine again
My heart is saying that it?s my time again
And I have faith that I will shine again
I have faith in me
 
On my own
Once again now
One more time
By myself

  

eviction day

My muscles aches from packing, my eyes from crying and my heart from longing. I have cuts and bruises all over my body. But I am dead inside. The superficial wounds will heal. The emotional and psychological ones never will.

eviction1.gif
 
eviction2.gif

So, this really, finally, is it.

There’s no turning back now.

This is my equivalent of a court-granted divorce. We’ve all waited long enough.

Menghitung hari
Detik demi detik
Masa ku nanti apa kan ada
Jalan cerita kisah yang panjang
Menghitung hari…

Padamkan saja
Kobar asmaramu
Cinta putih itu takkan ada
Yang aku minta tulus hatimu
Bukan puitis

Pergi saja cintamu pergi
Bilang saja pada semua
Biar semua tahu adanya
Diriku kini sendiri


- Kris Dayanti, “Menghitung Hari”