Another Love

All loves feel different don’t they?

I somewhat realise how stupid I have been, waiting in the shadows of my fear for another man to come by and love me the way I had previously been loved.

I think every relationship when you become an adult is almost like starting from scratch and learning how to fall in love again. And yes, I still, do sometimes slip down my own rabbit hole of despair and doom but he helps me up again.

Another love.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZHwu0uut3k

Try not to fucking sigh.

You know, what happens when you spend two whole weekends ignoring all the little errands (as listed below) you have to run?

You wake at 4am on Sunday night fretting, anxious and unable to go back to sleep. Then you drag your zombie self to work and try to overdose on caffeine and sea salt chocolate, feel guilty about all the empty calories you are eating, remember how you are dating now and have an upcoming wedding soon you need to -at the very least- look cute for and decide to book a yoga mat but alas ALL mats for ALL classes are taken. So you count the hours down at work with a chicken pie (might as go full out and EAT since you can’t exercise tonight, right?) and wait for when it is time to go home to your bed and retire your fat, old, self.

1) rescheduling two doctor’s appointments properly.
2) doing your eyebrows.
3) writing the note you have been meaning to write for two weeks now.
4) email book depository and threaten to send them a dead rat if your order does not come by next week.
5) buying new flats.
6) alter my clothes.
7) arranging all my thoughts neatly in my left brain lobe in accordance to importance.
7) try not to fucking sigh

Maybe I will run tonight.
(Haha, joke.)

She’s done!

Time can really make you her bitch without warning.
I find hard sometimes to realize that it has been a year and a half from when I first started
writing about Rose Tan.

I am finally done and I want so much to put it out there.
But I am so so so terribly afraid as well.

Marina Keegan

It does get lonely way too fast after graduation and in the ‘young adult working world’. And that’s primarily because no one talks about their struggles and/or insecurities and the working world generally sucks elephant balls when you have not found what you REALLY AND TRULY want to do. We, I, should start instagramming the shit out of ALL THE SHIT that happens to me on a fucking daily basis. Then maybe, you would be able to better relate to me and it’d help you open up more to me about the real you. School was really where I was allowed to be a delusional rebel. I miss that.

So like keegan said – “Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.

For most of us, however, we’re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we’re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I’d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I’d thought to apply for this or for that…

What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.”

And yes, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, hell, 35 is young. WHO MAKES THESE FUCKING STUPID RULES OF DETERMINING WHAT IS CONSIDERED TO BE“TOO OLD” TO CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT WHAT IT IS I WANT TO DO WITH MY PRECIOUS LIFE OR WHEN I NEED TO HAVE CHILDREN BY? WHO? WHO?!!

Optimism does not kill. Okay? Also, read Marina Keegan. I think many of us, 20 somethings (myself included) would have loved the chance to read more of her work had she not passed away so young.

Who?

He rides a Harley, used to teach Literature, writes, peppers his speeches with brilliant anecdotes and has a sense of humor that will have you holding your sides for hours.

Sounds like the perfect man?
He is also the Pope and hence, extremely off limits. STOP thinking of him that way you dirty sinner!!!

The joke is definitely on us for this one.

3 months in now

I no longer have a fuzzy memory of when his birthday is, the schools he has attended, his career, if his second name is spelt with 1 ‘l’ or 2 ‘ls’ and am aware of most of his likes and dislikes.

It is almost as if my brain has received a memo from my heart to let it know that remembering information about him is no longer a waste of brain space or my time.

And just as well, I suppose. Since I am inching closer to getting more comfortable with the knowledge that my next relationship and boyfriend is right around the corner without mentally torturing myself.

There is always space for dessert

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“Is that milkshake for me? Did I not just tell you I am on a diet?”
“Well, you are gonna have to do that on your own time cos when you are on Nigel’o clock, you eat.”

I love watching him eat. I don’t think I know anyone else who eats with as much gusto as he does. His eyes rolls back, he shakes his head in wonderment at the explosion of flavours in his mouth, he breathes in through his nose and then lets out an audible mmmmmmmm. Then he repeats the entire process till he finishes his meal, sits backs and wears the happiest grin on his face. “That was good food, babe!”

And he approaches a plate of $1.20 popiah the same way he does a plate of $42 pasta.

And? And there is always space for dessert. Always.