愛自己

我的人生中最差勁的一件事，就是可以愛一個人，愛到窒息，愛到迷失自我 - 可是 要我愛自己，太難。

小時候沒父親，妈妈忙着做生意，所以我嬰兒期就跟奶媽家搬到別處，过了个很正常很快乐的十一年。 最終，他们還是把我送回去本家，说了一句： 不要我了。

回到家后，一直被当成障碍似的，是个累赘 - 尤其在 17岁那年缀学后，我人生的20多年一直觉得自己是个废物。我也从那年开始，陷入了多年的忧郁症。

我这十年来，一直努力的找寻一个能守护我的避风港。 近年来才终于了解到，要是我继续像个幼小的树苗，那再大、再广阔的避风港，也守不住我脆弱的心灵。

我這一生以來，一直在追逐著愛情。家裡得不到的，就傾向朋友，朋友那裡得不到，我就往那些根本不應該開始的戀情裡鑽。恋情失败就试着从朋友那里得到一点温暖，来缓和我受傷的心。就這樣的惡性循環，發生了種種事故，被两方都拒绝，因而讓我開始脫掉眼前的那面薄紗。

我到底盲目追逐的是愛？還是情？

其實，幸福不是別人給你的。幸福， 是由衷的； 是你內心世界得到平衡時，而釋放出來的快樂。你無法讓自己幸福的話，憑什麼能夠讓別人幸福呢？

心碎，抑郁时，不能靠朋友，不能靠家人，更不能靠男人 - 只能靠自己。必须学着更坚强，學著多愛自己 - 當你愛自我，不為了別人放低自己，別人也會慢慢的，學著跟你一起來愛你。

2016年的目標 - 放棄對舊愛的情感，暫時捨棄尋找新戀情，今年跟自己談個轟轟烈烈，開開心心的戀愛吧！

愛自己就好。😊

I  have already had drawn such a goddamn short straw in life, and I'm surviving it - in time I will SHINE in it, screw the odds! FIGHTO!

I can't do this anymore, mum.

Was told by my SIL on Sat late afternoon, to clear my rack of older shoes in the storeroom, which I didn't have the time to until Monday night(now). Was worried about my 2 most expensive pairs of heels in the rack that needed to be saved, and as per usual, my mum always chooses the most expensive items  of each lot to throw away. No, she couldn't call me to ask if she could touch or throw my stuff - she just did it "out of the kindness of her heart", as always, for the Nth time.

I know I sound like an ungrateful bastard who's bitching about her mother, but imagine growing up in an abusive household, and  your mother still smothers you, lies, bluffs, steals, and cries to get your pity to make you stay by her side, single-handedly ALWAYS discarding the most important things to you(photo albums you did up from scratch when you were younger, complete with memorabilia from your childhood, birthday gifts, most expensive watch I've ever bought, favourite dresses, favourite heels, most expensive bag I've ever received as a gift, etc) - it's a continuous cycle. She clears my stuff without my acknowledgement about 3 times a year, and without fail always manages to throw the dearer things. And exclusively done so when I'm NOT at home.

Thanks, Mother, you're a great help. Just because they didn't all look like LV doesn't mean they didn't cost me a pretty penny. And despite our repeated conversations about how you severely abused all 3 of us growing up, both emotionally and physically, you still believe you've did nothing wrong that has to be forgiven for, and that no matter what you did or still do, we still shouldn't abandon you.

Oh wait, let me correct myself - you "know" you were wrong for the things you've did to us or turned a blind eye towards, and while we still exist in your life despite the facts, you took it for granted and repeatedly bitches about how we don't pardon all your mistakes that you are constantly repeating.

Well yes, we won't abandon you, but you sure as hell don't deserve us caring about you. We will provide for you, mother, but you can't force us to care. Not anymore.

After all, I grew up without my biological father - technically I grew up without a biological mother too, because I was with my nanny's wonderful, caring family from birth to 12 years of age, and then I came home and got slapped, caned, chased after by a butcher's knife, diaries unlocked from cabinets and read, and called a shameless whore since the age of 13 - I certainly don't need you now.

I thought I did, because you're the only real parent I have left; my father is a deadbeat who stopped thinking about this family once he had his new daughter with his new wife 16 years ago.

But... Sometimes you just have to let things go, you know? Some things are not worth it, even parents. If they've caused you nothing but pain 99% of the time... No matter how much you've tried and how you've forgiven them and try to move on, no matter the fact how the 1% of familial happiness cannot be given to you by anyone else - it's sometimes just not worth it.

2016 seems like a pretty good year to let go of it all.

A week on, after my 30th.

Didn't want to say this on my Facebook, and couldn't tell my "friends", lest they think I'm being emo and self-absorbed again - but my own brother and sister did not even wish me a happy birthday.

I'm not saying presents or ang bao or whatnot; literally not a single text or FB post or telling me in person, "Happy birthday". Even my mother, whom in recent years I've came to realise that I can't really trust, at the very least gave me a red packet(which I promptly had to return back in the form of her allowance) and cooked me some instant mee sua noodles for my birthday.

Seriously. Not a peep. Given my abusive childhood and emotionless familial interactions, I am honestly a little perplexed how I did not turn out into a freak or psychotic serial killer growing up in this household.

Of Dead Chivalry and M.T.

This happened quite a few weeks ago, actually, but it stuck in my mind and refused to dissipate until I voiced out about it, so here it is.

Some time in August, as I was walking in Outram Park towards TBB(Tiong Bahru Bar), a place that my friends have taken to patronise because of the cheap spirits package and wine prices, I was approached by an English guy called Ian P, who, after passing by and backtracking to speak with me, asked for my number.

I've always got a bit of a "Why not?" attitude, so I did, and for 2 weeks he just prattled on via Whatsapp, until I told him I'm not keen on being Whatsapp pals and that he should ask me out if that was the motivation behind asking for my number.

So there we were, at PS Cafe on a hazy Monday night, and just to be on the safe side, I ordered only a $29 pasta with no drinks. Conversation was a little stifled, he mumbled a lot and I had to ask him to repeat throughout the dinner, which was one of my pet peeves. 

We skipped desserts, and when the $80 bill came, I habitually prepared myself and reached for my wallet (I've gone on more dutched first dates than most women have to) and there it was - He asked me to pay my share. 

"Just $30 is fine, I'll pay for the fries." Which he ordered for himself while waiting for me.

When we exited the restaurant, Ian actually tried to hold my hand. Read the room, yo! If I came with any interest, it plummeted as he mumbled through the night and made me pay for my meal on a first date. What's more worse was, I really needed a drink after the disastrous time, and I had a bottle of Martin Miller's at Drinks n Co nearby, so I offered that option to him out of courtesy instead of leaving on the spot.

So of course he said yes and went to drink from my bottle.

When we finally bid farewell, he sent me a text and asked me why I even agreed to go out with him if I was so disinterested. So many distasteful words rose to the back of my throat but I swallowed them down, and simply told him that "Sorry, guys who don't pay on the first date is sorta a dealbreaker for me."

And there was that.

It is not that I expect men to always pay for me. M has a cushy career in a hardware company, and while I got used to nice restaurants and new cool spots on our Saturdate nights, I've never let him pay the full way. 

When we went to Koh Phi Phi, he paid for the expensive resort, so I made sure I try to pay for the Phuket stay, transportations all over, and drinks. When we went out on our Saturdates, he would pay for the more expensive dinners and I would take care of the more affordable ones, or pay for drinks or brunch the next day - Even though I only earn about 1/5 his salary, or less, considering he doesn't have CPF. Lol.

Anywayyyyy - I'm not a Do Nothing Bitch; I do not believe in sponging off men, but I do believe strongly in the first date rule, and after all, I'm a woman. It'll be nice to be pampered once in awhile.

---

Speaking of exes, I have really given up on Mike. Officially, I swear!

We'd maintain a sorta friendship recently, one that hinged on the SOLE premise that we do this as long as we are both not seeing anyone yet - so last Saturday we were supposed to head to the driving range and then hang out at a block party in town, but he got sick and I decided to head over to his place with dinner, soup, craft beers and movies.

After a few hours of movie, cuddling and head massages for him, I headed home, and woke up full-blown sick the next day. I texted him and we discussed the symptoms (we both love to Google research), and one of it that popped up in my mind was HPV, which is sexually transmitted only. When I brought that up, M discussed its other symptoms, and said he did not have it, so it's likely not HPV.

I then reiterated that HPV is sexually transmitted, why didn't you strike that out, right off the bat? Did you have sex recently?

"Aiyah. Where do you get that idea??"

"Cos asked you if possibly sexually transmitted and you didn't answer wot. And you still didn't deny it! Lol."

That was last Sunday afternoon. I never heard from him again.

Of course, I did the obligatory Google search on his name to see if it pops up in an Obituary, because why else would he have dropped off the face of the Earth, right?

It didn't. Just on a bunch of articles and unfortunately no Obits and no hospitalisation news.

Took me 5 months to finally bed you. That lady took, what, a month? Kudos to her immense capability. 

With that said, I leave you in her capable hands to care for you, Michael. 15 months on, after 6 breakups (from you) and having my I love yous thrown back in my face, I am finally done convincing myself you're a great guy whom I should continue to care for. I'm gladful for my contribution towards your confidence, but I have tried my best to be good to you, and I now take my leave with zero regrets.


I won't be telling you I love you anymore.

Everyday.

Everyday I spent my time, drinking wine, feeling fine. Waiting here to find the sign, that I can understand - yes I am.

Closure.

Met up with M tonight. Entirely my fault - I asked for it when I was feeling exceptionally lonely on Saturday, when both my closest friends made plans that did not include me - plus the mishap with O.

So I meet with Mike earlier this evening, for which I thought could be the closure I needed, but I let silly emotions take over, and that made a mess. For me, at least. It was fun, but a mess, at the end of the night.

I'm now recuperating at home, kind of wishing I did not let things happened the way it did, because all it did was to show me that we were still so good together. Anyways, as I now lie in bed sipping my whiskey and wishing what once was, I guess this is as close to a closure as I'll ever get.

As much as Mike likes being with me, he will never be with me again. He has pretty much demonstrated that point tonight. All I can do now is just to move on, and move forward, even though all I wanted to, was to be happy with him, and have a companion to spend my weekends with.

I've had my turn at closure. While this is not the most optimal of closures, I'll take it as it is. 

Jenny Jen Jen has to give up hope that Mike+Jen will ever work. 

Good bye, Mikey.

Insecurities.

My biggest flaw right now, is my overwhelming sense of insecurity, in myself, and in others.

I exude a sense of confidence whenever I'm conversing with someone, but that's only because I speak well, and have enough street and worldly knowledge to hold my own.

When it comes to dating someone, I get flustered and insecure at the first signs of irregularity and unbalance.

I've been dating this French guy, Olivier, recently, and it had been going pretty well. Outside of our first date, of which we spent 6.5 hours together, we've only hung out at his place where he either cooked, or I brought dinner over.

It was quaint. It was nice. It was very comfortable. It reminded me of Mike. O and I just spoke on the phone for 45minutes after yet another miscommunication and difference in style, which led us to not meeting up for the 2nd week in a row.

I shouldn't, and couldn't, blame him for the way he likes to handle his schedule, because that's the way he wants to live his life right now - one day at a time, after his 8 years relationship had just ended earlier this year. Sometimes he wakes up feeling depressed, and it's hard to shake it off, and when I woke up late today and didn't text him in time, he made plans for the rest of his day despite us confirming it last night. While I do not agree with the way he's handled things, I recognised it as a coping mechanism, something I'm painfully acquainted with.

What scared me was how I've came to be reliant on him, after such a short time(even for me). That when after all was said and done, and I laid crying on my bed, I finally realised I'd let myself be so emotional over O, because he was like a cross between Mike and Randy - not wild, not a bad boy, like a tall and handsome stable rock, a lot like Mike was, but also filled with emotional issues, just like Randy was.

I've been drowning in a sea of loneliness and uncertainties, and O was the first proper rock that came by that I could tether myself to. I suppose it's for the better that I had the semi-breakdown, because that's probably not a road I would like to travel down.

It was a lot easier when a few weeks ago, I was on first dates with O and a few other guys, and I generally did not give a shit. I should not have started to make a choice that early.

I'm just lonely. I'm not emotionally ready for a relationship yet. I probably never will, not until I find that true rock in my life.

Wilson is a safer choice, even if we don't end up seriously dating - I'll talk about W another time; I'm still trying to come into terms with the fact that I was emotionally reliant on O, and not because I actually do like like him. 

I mean, I shouldn't be, right? 3 days on now, and I barely think about him anymore. And not when it still tears me up inside whenever I think about Mike. And not when I also have some fuzzy feelings for W. And then again, how do I feel about Mike, now? How could love still be love, after the 7th breakup? You take something apart often enough, and eventually it will not resemble the pure form it was presented in, at its very beginning. Yet I miss Mike with a terrible vengeance, that it hurts, physically.

Sigh, I don't know. I don't know anything, anymore. I hate that I allow men to have so much sway over me. I have so little friends left because of my issues, that even my closest friend is leaving me behind. I have no man, and my family life is in shambles. It's all rather pathetic right now, but I'm glad for the little things that keeps me moving on, and the people who still sincerely want me in their lives as a friend.

I just need to persevere on.

True.

1.24am, Leonard: He don't want you why you still want him??


Indeed...

I really thought Mike and I were happy. He sounded happy. I WAS happy. I thought we were having a great time together... I guess it was all just one-sided.

---

I just went on a first date with a guy who's more of my age (36 this year) than Mike. He apparently went through a nasty breakup earlier this year, so we were kind of similar in respect to how we see our current situation, and the whole dating game.

We both want to move the fuck on, but sometimes, we just want to retreat into ourselves. Some times, we meet the right person at the wrong fking time, because we've not moved on from our previous relationship - But we still try to date, all for the singular possibility that this might be the person I can move on with, just like Mike, whom I moved on with from Randy.

We spent the better part of 6 hours together tonight at Robertson Quay, but at one point during the night when we discussed why we got onto Tinder, there was this lingering sadness in the air for the both of us.

O is a perfectly nice guy - good-looking, nice career, good head on his shoulders, and apparently cooks fabulous Italian dishes; but did we meet each other at an appropriate moment? Are we both ready to move on?

I don't know. All I know is that I got home, and I started crying thinking about Mike.

And I hate that.

Beers

I'm having a Duvel at an ale house, on a date, and it reminds me of you so much, it hurts. It just doesn't taste the same anymore.

弟子规 和 孟子

I've always taken to waxing lyrical with quotes in English (or translated to English), so I thought I'd share some of the teachings of my proud Chinese heritage.

同是人 类不齐 流俗众 仁者希

果仁者 人多畏 言不讳 色不媚

能亲仁 无限好 德日进 过日少

不亲仁 无限害 小人进 百事坏

We are all human beings, but we are not all the same. Out of all the common folk, the virtuous are sparse.

People are always wary of the virtuous, but the virtuous are not afraid to speak their mind, or allow themselves to take to frivolous fawning.

Love your people, and all is well - for your merits will bring you joyous days.
Not caring for your fellow people will only bring unending suffer, as the villainous will enter your life.

仁者爱人：

君子所以异于人者，以其存心也。君子以仁存心，以礼存心。仁者爱人，有礼者敬人。 爱人者，人恒爱之；敬人者，人恒敬之。有人于此，其待我以横逆则君子必自反也：我必不仁也，必无礼也；此物奚宜至哉！

What differs a "gentleman/lady" from others, is in the intent in his/her heart. A gentleman stores benevolence and kindness in his heart.

A benevolent person loves, a polite person respects. A loving person will be loved by all his fellow beings, and a respectful person will be respected by all his peers.

It is here where I reflect, that while I do not have to be virtuous and kind, I do not have to be heartless and cruel, either.

(Han) Solo drinkers

At E.Pachi supporting Ni, since I wanted a drink anyway. There's this one other guy who's also at the al fresco area right now, and we're both solo.

I'm drinking alone because I hate to be home and face the hostility - I wonder what's his story?

Something frivolous to muse over.  I often find solidarity in fellow lone drinkers; there is always a story.

Maybe I should have become a bartender. They get the most interesting stories of them all.

---

Editor's note, 8.58pm: Ah, so he's not flying solo like me, his girl friends were just really late. Oh well.

Happy birthday, to you.

Happy birthday, my Puffer Bill.

I miss you.

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.

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.

Mementos of 2012.

08 January 2013.

At 12 midnight, my hand drifted towards my well-worn notepad and brimming pen stand on my right, and began to write.

It came as a bit of a bafflement to me that I have only counted down to 2013 at Steve & Ann's 7 days ago. It felt like weeks. I guess time flies when you're having fun, but drops dead from the sky when you're doing the entire opposite.

in 2012, I witnessed a few events. 2 of my closest friends getting engaged to be married in May and September this year, - Which reminds me, I have to start jogging tomorrow - the unification of surprising pairings and breakups of some of the greatest loves I have ever seen.

I have also experienced the excruciating pains of losing a dear friend, Mark, which made me deeply appreciate my family and friends. Well, at least for a week or 2 before I ultimately returned to wanting to strangle some of them to death or some sort. Some sort... Sort of.

I kid. I love em :)

Then came the homo sapiens of the X chromosome. In early 2012, I dabbled in a budding relationship for a couple of months after a span/self-imposed drought of 5 years. Naturally, it crashed and burned. I subsequently trampled the hearts of a few men attributed in part to my resolution of 2012- To do what makes me happy.

Not to worry though; while living the cliche of "good girls like bad boys", I got my retribution handed to me by falling in love with a good boy from the wrong timezone. I have then repaid my debts in full by tossing and turning in bed for months, tormented by false hopes, waiting on the sidelines like a famished vulture perched in wait for that malnurished coyote that just would.not.die.

That and the 8kgs I have gained since fracturing my ankle in June. So yes, my debts are paid in full.

In 2012, I have met a few bad men and a lot of good women, moved on from a job of 2 years which I'd both loved and hated, did a short stint at a friend's company, before returning to do what Jennifer Lim simply does best- Laze around the house trying to put to paper the inner ramblings of her mind, while immersing in the illusion that she is a starving wannabe writer. The weighing scale shattered that illusion to a million pieces.

Anyway. I've recently stumbled upon my dusty manuscript, 2 chapters worth of crumbling pages absconded in a makeup trunk. Blowing the dust off, I sneezed as I reached with the other hand for my first and only fanfiction, 4 pages worth of uncompleted storyline hidden behind a couple of James Marsters busts.

As I stared at them, I began to realised that, my life, such as these papers in my hand, could be very easily summarised- Incomplete, unsuccessful.

On more than a few occasions, I have been showered with praises in regards to my "talent" with languages, whether it was to compose them, understand them, or even mutilate quite a few accents. I had always reciprocated with an accepting smile and a bashful thank you, mostly to avoid the unnecessary trouble of explaining how undeserving I am of them- I have tried explaining to people that I might be smart but not that smart, since I have nothing to show for it, ad nauseam.

SO done repeating, thank you very much.

Some days I will wake up in bed stifling a gasp of fear, clutching my pillows, tucking my body into a ball and tried hopelessly to drown out the heavy banging on my door and the screening voice of Life telling me to "wake up my fucking idea" - Oh wait, that's just my mum.

I do sometimes spent many a sleepless night pondering the atrocity of my life; 28 27 years, 3 months, 5 days, and nothing to show for it. Those days, I would react to all questions and conversations in a decidedly acrimonious manner and with eyes glazed over. So sue me.

Nonetheless, I have more or less accomplished my 2012 resolution(read: paragraph 5), so I am ready to leave my somewhat self-indulgent lifestyle on the backburner(what, you think I was going to give it all up? You cray cray) and attempt to make something of this dream I have always brought up sanctimoniously.

It is with a fevered wish that I hope all my friends have stifled tears, bawled loudly, laughed madly, cursed occasionally, made mistakes, learnt, and loved deeply in 2012- Because I have.

Despite the lack of any lasting continuity, I do not regret a single thing I have done last year. Mistakes made in the past are dead. I always like to use the sentence, "You've made your bed. Now lie in it."  The only thing to regret, is what might have been if you do not try. I do not aspire to be Shakespeare or Dostoyevsky, but one can hope to lead the very titillating, albeit very short, life of talented Lord John Wilmot, sans the venereal diseases.

May all of you find something in 2013 to live for. After all, we have survived 6 raptures and 1 doomsday. Celebrate life and make something of it just in case the next prediction actually comes true! For now, I am going to pick up my pen, and write.

Love,

Jenx

After Death nothing is, and nothing, death,

The utmost limit of a gasp of breath.

Let the ambitious zealot lay aside

His hopes of heaven, whose faith is but his pride;

Let slavish souls lay by their fear

Nor be concerned which way nor where

After this life they shall be hurled.

Dead, we become the lumber of the world,

And to that mass of matter shall be swept

Where things destroyed with things unborn are kept.

Devouring time swallows us whole.

Impartial death confounds body and soul.

For Hell and the foul fiend that rules

God's everlasting fiery jails

(Devised by rogues, dreaded by fools),

With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door,

Are senseless stories, idle tales,

Dreams, whimseys, and no more.

― John Wilmot

有时候，笑着哭，很痛。但有时候，也是一种解脱。

I need another story
Something to get off my chest
My life gets kinda boring
Need something that I can confess

I have to listen to songs on my iPhone on my way to work, or the rides would feel tedious and unbearably ‘loud’ for the mere 20minutes’ commute.

As I shuffled through my recent favourites, like “Let Me Out” by Ben’s Brother, “Hey Hey” by Dennis Ferrer, “We Speak No Americano” by Yolanda Be Cool, “Secrets” by OneRepublic, and “Make You Feel My Love” plus “Melt My Heart To Stone” by Adele etc, I realized that these songs were on constant loop because some of them were the “song of my life”, at some point of time in my life. THE song that expressed exactly what I was going through.

Which was practically all of the above besides WSNA, which is just my tune of the month.

When I hear “Daddy DJ”, it brings me back to 1999 when I was casting Deo Saighead and Mor Dion in Chaos in SGDA on my 56K dialup modem, where my mum purposely disrupted by constantly calling home. One Way Or The Other by Blondie, the quiet afternoons I have with my little nieces watching cartoons(Angelica was singing a variation of it on one episode of Rugrats). Deep Sprit – Lonely (DJ Lhasa remix), when my ex and I broke up.

Rob Zombie, Pantera and AC/DC music, back when I lived and breathed hard rock and heavy metal(still one, but not as intense anymore). Tiesto and Darude’s music? Back when my life derailed for a while and I relived my disco pill-popping days.

Emofied acoustics, live hard die fast ‘commercial’ music, hard rock and heavy metal music with lyrics that don’t make sense, even the occasional happy chirpy songs that ain’t my usual cuppa tea. I love my quirky life tracks throughout the past decade and more.

What is YOUR song?

Back from Shanghai...

... With a vengeance stomach virus.

6 in the company, with a dash of drama and a lot of drinking and eating.

2010 is a year quite filled with trips on my calendar.



I love it ;)

这两个月，还以为过得蛮开心的；即使没了工作，至少还有你的陪伴。

我知道我们不是男女朋友，而虽然在此刻我们两的 ‘成人世界’ 里只有对方，我们往后依旧什么也不会是，更何况，我也发现我已渐渐单单变成你的卸闷工具。况且，我也发现一个铁定的事实 － 你最近对另一个女生感兴趣 － 哈， 可能是我对你太好了吧。

人都是对未钓到的鱼儿较感兴趣。

也可能是我自攀清高，以为我足够满足你，就算只是应你而求只当一个特殊 ‘朋友’，但我对你的日久生情开始萌现，让你无法呼吸。

我真的不知道。

但我真的受伤了。。。 我为你付出的一切根本一点也不值得。我有时纳闷是不是我自己的错，但我 ‘要求’ 的从来并不多（其实想想，我有要求过什么吗？）现在的情况怎么也不只是单单我一手造成的。

今天看着你坐在她的旁边，心好痛。早上只有我们两人世界，下午却又什么都不是，我的心荷负不来。

是我真的开始太喜欢你，还是因为太寂寞了，变成对你产生依赖？我不知道，但我很累了。真的不行了。

我要找回自我，不想再为你伤心了。不想再裸露我对你的情感。累了。放弃了。我很想很想就此退出，从新做一个真真正正的，普通朋友。

Lord, please grant me strength.