He's going NS on the 8th, and we went to Giant at IMM today to shop for his necessities. He kept making me choose the stuff he needs, like toiletries, food, and bag.
- Yadda yadda yadda. I wanted to rant about his testosterone overload, but I'm a nice girl. Too bad. -
Sigh. So yea, we got over our quarrel eventually, and we actually talked a bit just now. We talked about general sex(now now, don't go "Eeww!" like you're some tight-ass -pardon the pun- virgin who've never f*cked to save your life, for goodness sake. I'm 20, and most of u guys who read my blog are all of legal age), our parents, our lives and our views.
Truth to be told, we don't communicate that much. I'd like to talk to him about stuff like these, but he's those... Obsolete, typical Singaporean male, you know? It's hard to talk things to him without him going some sorta "Eew" on me and making me wince.
Sometimes, even with all the incredulous looks I shoot at him, he behaves like he has a prerogative over me; that I should do this, and should do that, because it'll be right.
The talk made me realise how worlds apart we are. Yea I know, it took me 3 bloody years for that piece of information to register. I guess I've always convinced myself it'll all work out.
I'm a passionate woman inside, with a propensity to turn all quixotic, but peer pressure and the society just scrunched me in a box and made me keep to my own, sculpturing me to become one of those conservative girls too. I'm always eager to learn and try all kinds of new things, but at the same time, I'm embarrassed because I was afraid people will laugh at me.(Because they're too chicken to admit they want it too.)
That's why I've wanted so much to try a life in U.S of A, because maybe in America, I can be vivacious, open up to my passions, and do what I want for a change, without having to undergo people's scrutinys.
Right before he dozed off to sleep, I asked him if he loves me. He mumbled a yes, and... I'm ashamed to say this, but at the same time, I need to record this down, I... My reply of "I love you" was autopilot; like it was obligations, I had to stutter and whisper it out.
It was not like the usual thud of my heart and the usual sincere reply. There was a thud, but it was more like a guilty thud...
When we were shopping at Giant earlier today, I saw some aftershave products and I smiled to myself how sexy I find men when they use them; aftershave smell practically oozes sexyness! It was then I also remembered that Mel couldn't grow a beard to save his life, and I was disappointed.
What the hell is happening to me? It felt like... I love Mel, but I'm not in love with him anymore. I love his knob of a chin, his perky small lips that a girl will die for, his silly grin, and his skinny torso, albeit a too skinny torso.
Maybe it's just a passing thing, and I love him, God, I love him, but I'm not sure if I'm still in love with him anymore.
I'm petrified.
To use fear as the friend it is, we must retrain and reprogram ourselves...
We must persistently and convincingly tell ourselves that the fear is here-
with its gift of energy and heightened awareness-
so we can do our best and learn the most in the new situation.
- Peter McWilliams
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