Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Apology and absolution, are not synonymous.


Heyo!


Got back at about 10ish pm, after I kinda spontaneously decided to watch Jurassic World on my own after work. Terminator Genisys and Jurassic World back-to-back, both of which are classics from my childhood; Jen is a happy camper!


It was a pretty excellent movie, and I teared up at all the mopey parts, but I teared mostly because I was supposed to watch this with Mike. In fact, I booked the tickets for a few Saturdays ago, but we missed it after waking up and messing around in bed, not knowing my phone picked up the IndoSat carrier, and got switched to Indonesia timing instead.


Well, I'm sure he's already watched it on a date.


Anyway, I'm only posting now because I spent the last 2 hours trying to talk sense into my mother. Things at the homefront has been steadily getting worse. The SIL took the kids and left over a week ago, but she eventually let the kids return last week to attend their tuitions, and what not. As of right now, she's still staying alone in their flat at the Pinnacle, and refuses to come back here. 


She's been forcing her hand and trying to make my brother shift over to Tanjong Pagar along with the rest of their family, and stop caring for my mother, so my mum and I begun seriously discussing the option of selling our family home, which is in our names.


My family life is so complicated and simply put, fucked up, that it will take a novel-sized entry to talk about it, and maybe I will, one day, talk about it. But not now.


Long story short, it might be a more viable option if our two families split and lead separate lives, especially since the SIL wants my brother to stop giving allowance to my mother. We'll buy a smaller flat elsewhere with the proceeds, and I'll pay for all our future upkeep.


It'll be tough for my brother for his convenience to get into work, but something's got to give, right?


---

One of the many topics I've touched upon with my mum tonight, was the fact that a big part of our current situation was set in motion by herself, albeit unknowingly, and she did not, and still do not, absorb the responsibilities of what her past and current actions have wrought. A few new revelations came into light tonight, and she looked to me for immediate forgiveness and understanding, the moment she finished her announcement.


While our mum has finally realised the impact of her past actions on our psyche, she expects us to forgive her, to take pity on her. Every time she apologises, it was done with a tinge of "Don't you realise how poor thing I am?"


I told her tonight that "apology and absolution are not synonymous. You have to truly understand the impact of your behaviour, and work on healing, and embetter yourself from the within. We forgave you easily, because we are your children, but you need to stop assuming that you deserve absolution from anyone and everyone, just for owing up to your mistakes, but subsequently repeat the same mistakes over and over again."


I follow a very uncomplicated rule of thumb - Own your mistakes, live your mistakes. You've made your bed, and lie in it. I don't tend to let my mistakes happen the 2nd or 3rd time, because fool me twice, shame on me, right? Unfortunately, that one rule does not apply to me when I'm knees-deep in a relationship, ha.


Anywayyyy. Back to the topic. My whole point of this entry, is that Apology does not equate Absolution. Apology paves the path to absolution, but it's what you do next, that shapes how the dice will fall. - Jennifer Lim G.S. (yes, I'm doing it. I'm quoting myself xD)

To prevent history from happening again, you need to pull your heads out of your own arses instead of avoiding the mistake in shame. Owe up to it, work towards embetterment, stop lingering on what's done, and move the fuck on.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

A Blind Eye

I haven't been on this blog for over 2.5 years, so why not jump right back into it, and continue writing about my relationship woes?

I've tried writing into a notebook on my daily whimsical thoughts, ideas, and such, but the book proved to be too bulky and cumbersome over the months - So it's now relegated to the bottom drawer of my office desk.

2 years ago, I was in a relationship with a man, Randy McG., whom, a few dates in, after I've already fell hook, line and sinker, told me that he is married, but separated, soon-to-be divorced. I believed him, because I was desperate for companionship, and he was so good to me, and charming, and intelligent.

Long story short, I had a nightmare year with him, where after months and months of turning a blind eye to the dozens of girls texting him and exchanging naked photos, I sunk into depression and severe alcoholism, due to his serial cheating and constant need to lie. That and he was never going to leave his wife. I almost took a plunge from the window sill in my kitchen - It was a wake-up call for me then, and I went on dating apps to try to move on from the whole situation.

It took a few tries and some really bad times, but with a 2 weeks' trip to US and a really disastrous trip with Randy, I finally moved on - I met Mike T.

Mike and I had our first date just slightly over 1 year ago, in fact, we just wished each other happy anniversary last week or so. He was this awkward, geeky, tall, smart and handsome man - My perfect type. Only problem was, he was a lot older than my usual dating pool - and I actually do like them older - He was 50.

Thankfully, though, Mike looked nothing like his age, and after hours of talking about music on our first date, we subsequently went on a second date, then a 3rd, 4th, 5th etc, and Saturdays unofficially became our date nights. I started staying over at his place on date nights, we started being comfortable just being around each other. I had my own toothbrush in his bathroom, and we talked about getting some toiletries for me to use whenever I stayed over. 

Randy was finally cast away from my mind like the fading nightmare that he was.

Then, the problems started creeping in. Mike was a little resistant towards giving our relationship a name, even though we were exclusive and seeing each other regularly. I took it in stride, calling him my Pseudo Boyfriend, but we had our first break up just right after I came back from the US, whilst he was still in Vanuatu. I can't remember the reason for that breakup, but it was probably something to the effect of not wanting a messy breakup, because of our age differences, and whatnot.

Anyway. So we broke up. That was Breakup #1. Throughout the months, we would break up with each other, only to either: 1) Regret our decisions the moment we meet up to break up proper/pass me back my stuff, or 2), go by days or weeks of separation before one of us caves and texts "I miss you". Repeat #2 to #6. 

We just had Breakup #7, to which I've told him not 3 weeks ago that if he really wants to give us a shot again, he has to do this right, and do right by me, because there won't be a Breakup #8.

Then 3 days ago I made the drunken mistake of sending Mike a video telling him that I love him, hoping it will secretly make him happy(like he said it did when I told him before), but instead, he ran. 

Mike ran, as always.

I've always turned a blind eye (of sorts) to how he goes back on dating sites almost immediately each time after we breakup - Breakup #6 happened also when Mike was back in the US, and he subsequently hopped back onto a site(Match.com?), and lined up a date for when he returned back to SG less than 2 weeks later. 

Between break ups #4 to #6, I had to tell Mike that if we ever break up again, he needs to give it time, a mourning period if you may, before he tries to go on dates again. It's honestly that bad that I had to request this of him, which evidently, did not stick.

I turned a blind eye to the girls he added to his Facebook, to which I was removed from literally less than an hour after Breakup #6, because "it will be too painful to look at your posts". I was never added back, but I could see from his activities and recently added friends, that he's been busy - I know some of them are from dating sites. They get to be on his Facebook, whilst his ex-girlfriend of one year, did not. 

Editor's note: M texts girls he has met on dating sites (but not went on a date with, yet) whenever we're on a break. I've never pursued the issue because the messages were innocuous enough, but still enough to raise a red flag at the back of my mind. As the Chinese proverb goes, 无风不起浪。If there is no wind, there would be no waves in the sea.

I know I sound overly suspicious, and that I check up on him, but I've never made a real fuss for Mike to explain himself. I let lax the instant he resisted.

I was desperate for Mike to love me. Now I know he never will, because that's just how he is.

Despite the niggling realisation that I'd become a spare tire, I refused to believe that my sweet, geeky and insecure Mikey could be a jerk. 

My sweet, sweet Mikey who always catered to my whims on where to go on date nights, always trying to find something new and interesting for us to check out, who never really once lost his temper at me, even when I was being hormonal and bitchy, who always cuddled me when I asked for it, who got me belated "Valenmas" presents to surprise me, even though he isn't the romantic type. Whom always made me feel so safe in his arms.

I refused to believe that Mike had become a jerk who was perpetually putting out hooks into the sea, hoping for the right one to bite - But in the interim, when he got lonely, when he missed the companionship, when he longed for my soft skin, he returned to me, time and again - the Jenny Jen Jen, Cage, Granny, the loving Jennifer who always welcomed him back with open arms.

To him, I was prolly a safety net of sorts. Jen is comfort, Jen is familiarity, Jen is fun. Jen will always take him back. Jen is a bit of everything good, but just not enough of everything right.

To me, Love IS comfort, Love IS familiarity, Love IS fun. Love is always forgiving and always welcoming. Love is imperfect and a constant work-in-progress.

I turned a blind eye against Mike's flaws, and fell in love with his little imperfections; my sweet, gentle, smelly Daddy Bear.  I should have cut my losses and left before I fell deeper in love.

Yet, it wasn't all woes. Mike did also make me realise that I DO deserve a better man, instead of being content with the basic criterias of being single and does not cheat

I deserve better, and I WAS getting better, especially during the three weeks of our last separation. I was doing a lot better at loving myself more, but after letting this happen time after time, I'm apparently not doing well enough.

It's back to square one now, and as much as it pains me, I admit that I should have let Mike go when I recognised the fact that he will always be a runner, no matter if we would have been right for each other or not. I should have gave up trying months ago. I mean, he gave up. Despite always coming back to me, he was not the Mikey I knew and loved.

Please just let me find the strength - I've been so deliriously happy the last couple of weeks. There was a glimmer of hope that Mike had finally started behaving like the loving Mike I knew, and I finally got to meet his family just last week. This simply shattered me, when I thought there was nothing left to shatter. When I thought I was already jaded when it came to him.

We shall never be again, I cannot let it be again, and I need the strength to let it all go, and rise up from the ashes, because I am still the little engine that could. 




P.S: Gawd. I so need a smoke right now, but I'm 33 days smoke-free, and by god I'm going to stick to it.