It has been a pretty terrible Sunday. I had prayed extensively since this noon when I woke up and thankfully as Sunday’s end is nigh, I am finally functioning enough to blog.

Well, it was the result of too fabulous a Saturday. As always, you take some, you give some, and the trade off would mean waking up on a Sunday, barely able to open your right eye, and when you open your left eye, the pain on your right eye automatically weighs down your left.

So. I couldn’t keep my eyes opened for more than 30 seconds, before my right eye would go into a teary mess.

The teary mess in turn creates a stinging, burning sensation in the right eye… that brings on further discomfort, and more tearing.. and you think to yourself how this is certainly not the way you expect your dysfunctional tearducts to start working again.

I tried to close each eye to survey the damage.

I know I was in pretty big trouble when my right eye’s vision was a perpetual blur, even with the glasses on. I can be pressing my nose into my handphone screen and I still cannot make out the words on my phone. That’s how bad my vision is.

When my vision was accessed, I had trouble even making out the finger numbering when the Medical Officer was just a meter from me.

But besides the bad vision, the inability to open my eyes was what I was really worried about.

I didn’t care if I was a fashion disaster, and I just grabbed whatever I could get my hands on to change and headed out.

And with daylight at its full glory, my photosensitive eyes switched on the waterworks pretty swiftly. I sat in my car and knew I probably could keep my left eye opened for only 5 seconds before I had to close them to will the discomfort and pain away.

Was sent to a nearby clinic to see a GP, one of the very few clinics opened on a Sunday (tsk! Of all days!). He said it could be contact lens infection and dispensed the usual SOP advises that if I could open my eyes when he was talking, he would probably see me rolling them.

His advice was to go down to the A & E, simply cos it was a Sunday, no eye doctors around, and my eyes were impairing my daily routines, so much so that when I alighted at the carpark, I didn’t once open my eyes as I was helped to the clinic and my eyes still didn’t stop tearing.

The blurred vision was giving me giddiness, and the sun was starting to make my photosensitive eyes too painful for me to handle. I thought I might just collapse. It didn’t make any sense to me cos I was just having a swollen, painful eye, but I didn’t understand how it was bringing me this much discomfort.

Decided to head to A & E since it was a Sunday and I didn’t wanna sit on it till Monday cos I wanna know how serious it is and make necessary arrangements for Minibean’s school tomorrow, and as I am going on a trip on Wednesday, this eye issue really sets out to be the dampener of everything.

I was dropped off at the entrance, and since it was too bright and my eyes were tearing constantly, I had to stagger a little and my hands were out in the air searching for the pillars and beams. The giddiness certainly wasn’t helping.

Before I knew it, I heard someone’s voice, and I managed to peep out of my left eye (which perhaps due to the swollenness, despite it being okay, I could only open 1/3 of it, and I felt like I was fighting sleep) to see a paramedic came to me and insisting on helping me.

I told him I was perfectly fine and it was nothing serious and he told me sternly to let him do his job, which perhaps involves him not letting anyone walk into any pillars/onto the paves of the ambulances and damaging the property in the process.

So before I knew it, with total embarrassment, he had asked for a wheelchair and an assistant came to strap me into it.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No need so drama right?! My protests went unheard. I even shared that when I was in labour and my water broke, I didn’t even use a wheelchair.

But I have to say throughout the process, I didn’t even quite open my eyes to see how they look like or even take down their names.

I cannot even start saying how embarrassed I was. I cannot decide if I would be more embarrassed in a wheelchair or walking into the walls. I think at that point of time, sitting in a wheelchair was more embarrassing than anything else.

And when I was supposed to take out my IC, I couldn’t see and I ended up taking out my MBS (cough, it means nothing, really) card. DUH.

It was such a boring wait since I couldn’t see anything to read but I managed to have my little indulgences when I peeped out of my left eye to tweet within 30 seconds and then bear with the excruciating pain to my right eye it brought… cos boredom triumphs pain in my dictionary.

That is my good eye you see in the picture, it was also swollen and opened to the max as it could. IMAGINE THE EYE THAT WAS BAD?! Superbly embarrassing to be “parked” at the wheelchair zone.

The bruises on my arms and legs make it seem like I was more like an abuse victim than anything else, and my eyes probably looked like they were punched.

Went to the Triage (would have taken pictures if I could see, a camwhore never changes her hiaoness) with help since I couldn’t see the numbers flashing, did some depressing tests to know my eyesight was pretty screwed, went to see another doctor who dripped some stinging iodine or something into my eye, before referring me to the eye doctor.

The eye doctor then did some tests to show my cornea has quite a bit of a cut, asked me to stop using the solution given to me by the GP cos it was going to build more toxins in the eye, and then I was sent home after being charged with a hefty bill.

I had to lie down throughout the journey home cos it was making me freaking unwell.

Got home, skipped dinner and went straight to bed after making arrangements so that Minibean would be cared for by her grandparents over the next few days. I was pretty glad I did some housework yesterday so that I don’t have to struggle with the chores cos I don’t think it would be pretty if I walk into the walls.

When I woke up, Minibean gave me a ready hug before I sent her off, feeling a bit morose cos I had wanted to spend the time with her this week, but I probably would be home bound for a while so I don’t become a safety hazard so that means no ferrying services. Bummer.

Besides that, I would really weep if I miss the beauty of the place I am leaving for, so praying for speedy recovery.

But thankfully, my eyes are good enough for me after the nap and medication to shut one eye and blog this post, and hopefully, I can finish 4 posts by tonight so I don’t have to fret over the limited time I have on hands.

Another note, it is quite terrifying to go through the day without depending on my sight. It was as if I couldn’t hear as well, and eating without looking at my food was not as appetising as well. Had to sharpen other senses consciously so I could gain a bit of confidence going thru the motions today.

I regret taking my sight for granted everytime I abuse my eyes with prolonged lens wearing, or when I get stingy over eye care (monthly lens become bimonthly, or simply the laziness of not changing the solution in the casing). But when I cannot see clearly, and the colours are not as vivid, it depresses me greatly. Even typing depends largely on “feeeeeeling” you know?

Will promise to be good to my eyes after this episode. YI HOU BU GAN LE! *pulls my ears*

(GASP! Just tried to select all + copy the entry like I always do in case you know, the internet screws me in the arse which happened once too many times. Then my vision caused me to select PASTE. And my post disappeared. Heart nearly wanna stopped, but thankfully the Undo button worked twice round! Yay!)

Extra: I just took off my glasses to put my medication. I am actually wondering if the cut to my cornea is like, uh, lasik. My short sightedness is bad, and that means I normally can’t see things too far a distance away. Just now my injured eye actually managed to see some words 2 metres away though it is blur, it is still sharper than my left eye. Which is strange cos my right eye can’t see anything near, have I became long sighted in one eye?!

On top of the pulled hamstring I have (which apparently I pulled the front muscle of the same left thigh, tsk), I think this week is really not my week. Hmphf.

Warning: Graphic (not really but oh well) pictures below and not suited for the faint-hearted.

I finally managed to change my blog template after struggling with it for the longest time.  Don’t be fooled by its simplicity, cos I just can’t seem to sort out the not-so-nice comment form, and it took me hours, and it still was going nowhere. And the font looks a tad too small on my notebook,

Did some changes here and there, and all in all, a refreshing change.

A weekend that ended too soon, without much fanfare, and these days I find Sundays evil-er than Mondays. I am already looking forward to the weekend with a busy week panning out for me. I thought I was freed last week after the dreadful presentation, but no difference leh!

Anyway.

The episode of the unfortunate finger!

3 weeks after the fateful dive, the pain was getting worse though a long course of antibiotics made the swelling went away.

My finger couldn’t move without hurting, and even just lifting my arm up would trigger a shooting pain.

As usual, most discounted it as a simple, girlie whine.

Hmphf.

So, after getting a “2nd opinion”, it was suggested that I get an x-ray done. Initially I rejected the idea totally thinking it was too over the top (okay, fine, I was also terribly resentment of the idea that my finger would be cut open), and it was suggested that it was highly unlikely there would be anything showing up.

So…. what had supposed to be a quick drop-in during lunch time, showed exactly what was wrong.

Enlarge the X-ray film and you could see a foreign object on the left side next to the bone.

After a fast and furious referral letter, I was at SGH A & E waiting to see a hand surgeon.

First, they tested my fingers’ response with a needle and the masked lady asked, “Can you feel it?” I felt the prick and said yes, but I think because I didn’t yelp girlie-ly, she poked again, harder this time until it bled and I looked at her bewildered-ly and answered a louder yes.

I think I should have screamed like a girl when she pricked as hard for the rest of the fingers.

Then, they gave me a jab when I was on the phone with a business call. Because I didn’t yelp, the needle went in all the way and I could feel the sour pain in my bone.

Lesson learnt. Yelp and scream next time when someone prick you. They just wanna see you hurt.

In the room, there was a patch of blood on the floor with a piece of discarded tissue. Tsk tsk. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was visiting some quack.

The hand surgeon saw me next (seen below talking on the phone to my 2nd opinion) and she was coincidentally common friends to those whom I went diving with. In the beginning I was jittery, and I started joking with the nurses when I went into the OT.

And I was morbidly so curious that I asked the doctor for permission to take pictures while she worked on my hand.

I thought I might faint, but I was getting more curious and started to half sit up to see her inject local into my finger (yes, I got pricked again), she then tied a rubber band round the base of my finger (hahaha, it reminded me of how a cock ring works! Uhm, not that I use one before…) before she cut it open with a sharp scapel.

My finger looks look, red, flushed with blood, hard, and swollen as it stood rigidly under the lights.

She turned back to refer to the X-ray behind her to try to locate the splinter. Her grim words were, “If I can’t find it, you have to be admitted and we need the X-ray machine to locate it.”

Well, knowing how before that I had ticked off the boxes of all the “worst case scenerios” suggested to me with regards to my finger, I was thinking if I had to leave my cut gapping for the convenience of it.

She then commented coolly that some of the flesh around the wound is infected and the bad tissues needed to be scrapped off, briefly mentioning if it wasn’t done cleanly, I might have to go back to scrap it again. Yes, with the finger split open again.

And then she pulled out this white rubberband lookalike thingy out of the cut, showing me. She even gamely stretched my cut to show the white band as I took a picture.

Apparently the 1mm thick rubberband is my nerve. What nerves! And it was pierced. right through in the centre.

I don’t know to laugh or cry. It pierced the 1mm nerve (thankfully, the minor nerve), when it is 1mm.. of all places, you can pierce a nerve!!! Got more accurate or not?

And secondly. It is 1mm. And it didn’t snap?!?! It was like those worn rubberband, stretched thinly at the site it was pierced.

A nerve injury takes half a year to heal, and that also explains the shooting pain.

Fortunately the evil thing that lodged itself in my finger was located and plucked out like a thorn (Bottom row, 2nd from right).

No one could figure out what it was. Nemo’s toothpick? A coral’s thorn? Some fish bit me and I brought its tooth home? Idon’t know!!

It isn’t smooth and looks like a tip of the toothpick, but how is it possible to have a toothpick at that depth?!

Roarrrr!

But after having my finger wrapped up like a popsicle, it was a week plus before it was healed and I had help to get the stitches out (tried doing it myself but I guess I could have chop my finger off unwittingly with an “Ooooooops”).

My index finger is still weaker than other fingers and with all the bad flesh dug out, I thought it would do what liposuction meant to do, but it doesn’t seem to look any slimmer.

The long course of antibiotics also brought forth other ailments, and since then I seemed to develop an allergy to alcohol. Tsk tsk, maybe the kick-off will make me “test water” again to see if the allergy is here to stay for good.

It has been 2 weeks plus since THE night. The Sheng Siong night.

And then it came back to haunt again, sending shudders, after shudders.

And then, hey, the fear is still there, and I am still frightened. Clammy fingers as I type…

I don’t know what I am more afraid of.

Maybe of what is ahead.

Or maybe of what I had gotten myself into.

I see the smiles I couldn’t match, I shook hands without comprehending, I watched faces I couldn’t read, I halted words I couldn’t speak.

Slow down people, what are you guys talking about? Oh. I see. Uhm, hmm, uh… then the words faded away. You know, the same ol’ same ol’, easily dealt with with a simple raise of the corners of the mouth, and a nod.

I tried asking for help to decipher the surreal 2 weeks plus I survived, but then my chowchow snubbed me as it was more interested in being drooled on.

Eh? Oh, like that ah?

Okay then.

Done deal.

Girl, I love your tatt.

It says best.

And this too, shall pass.

The weekend is concluding on a surprisingly peaceful note, probably because of all that had happened in the past 2 days that have left me shaken (and very stirred), scared, and very frightened.

***

It was a nice Friday.

A nice, hearty lunch at Holland Village with a great massage thrown in for the bad back.

I giggled in response to his views on monogamy, and how he justified it was a concept brewed out of selfishness of mankind.

He believes in many.

I believe in open honesty.

A lift to NUS for a pretty long meeting, before I made my way back to town.

***

I thought it was an evening to remember.

Of someone losing it.

Of someone not taking a consistent no for an answer.

Weeks of anger, rage, hurt, and dramas/mindgames I have no wish to be part of, pushed me to be real firm with the decision.

Of threats and aggression.

Our drinks companion was caught in the awkward position when I shot him pleading looks for help, and then he would be met with dagger stares and aggression to warn him to stay out of it.

My phone was snatched, and numbers taken down.

I was “abducted” and dragged from the cab stand into the hotel so I wouldn’t go anywhere.  I was supposed to meet Mum and Minibean at the hospital to visit my dad.

I am so detached from the episode that I could make it like a joke that I was somehow kidnapped and fed with beef burger, steak and cheese platter in the room and my attempts to head anywhere would be met by a sturdy arm around my tummy, and got myself lifted from the ground, even if it was in public’s eyes.

My phone was robbed initially.

Then the door was blocked.

It pissed me off so much more, and more determined.

A part of me has died, and I am not sure if it will ever get revived again.

I left, eventually, but the night concluded with defiance clashing defiance in the face. It was a miracle that the cab window didn’t shatter from all those sharpness.

***

Was out on Saturday until I was asked to join for dinner.

Was reluctant but the companion with us the day before was pretty jovial about it all and that he would protect me.

Of seafood, and sea breeze, and sitting there listening to conversations and all. Spoke about work and all, before 3 hours passed.

Nothing prepared me for the long night ahead.

***

It was perhaps by grace of God, that everything went okay.

Though the image of that moment will perhaps etch in my mind, deeply, for the rest of my life.

If you think my life has been dramatic, nothing beats last night, almost a drama-series worthy scene. But it was real.

My palms get sweaty, my eyes get teary, and I feel the drop in my heart just by recalling the episode.

I don’t even dare to think between the chances of 50-50, what would have happened otherwise.

I don’t know where my strength came from, I don’t know how I managed to react, I don’t know how I managed to pull through the longest 2 seconds in my life, and the subsequent 20 minutes in between hyperventilating (teehee, I need to ventilate on this, Prontip) and pulling together my entire shaken being.

I saw it. My mind slow-framed every single moment though it was such a blur. A buzz, really.

I had nightmares of various images from last night put together.

And with that, sometimes in life, there are certain factors and catalysts that will push us to make a decision out of character. Like last night.

And then, I did. I am not even sure of it myself. I know the challenges ahead. I am not even sure if it is the “worst decision of my life” and what have I gotten myself into.

Cos seriously, everything is such a blur, so surreal that I have detached myself from my reality today, just so I could… have some much needed peace.

I am apprehensive of what the future holds, I really am, but for now, the anchor, needs some anchoring too.

Isn’t it surprising how things could suddenly take such a sudden change?

***

I need to solve my bandwidth problems. I was locked out of it again today and many things I wanna write kinda osmosis out already of my mind already by the time I wanna blog.

***

Nobody is trying to play a game here anymore. The last post was about someone whom I thought was close to us once, and someone who once understood, and someone who had seen us girls through all the misery and felt protective over us, but then…. oh well. Unfortunately, it was misconstrued by people who took it personally.

It isn’t a competition, and should never be.

***

Before I knew it, the new week is here.

Dad is supposed to discharge yesterday after his headache problem was solved, then he had a pee problem so it was supposed to be today, and then another problem cropped up today and he could only be discharged tomorrow.

He has been hospitalised for 5 days already.

I can’t wait for him to get home.

Everyone loves a good piece of drama.

I think it is good I have a phantom writer for what I could not find energy within me to write so. It is way too draining for me…

So, the big, big, revelation, shall come in parts.

I will add in comments and let Fiona tell you the story.

Check comments for the debunking of myths.

I am just too tired. Way too so.

A threat came in with the revelations, and I have to lock it up. Not the cowardy way I want to do so, but I believe the sudden jump in the statistic did mean news travel fast enough for quite  a number of people read it or bloglines did its job pretty well.

Nonetheless, if you want to read it, feel free to email me at joewei.ting at gmail dot com for the password.

By no means am I ashamed of what I wrote, and it is one of my flaws and my past. I am muted now, and slightly annoyed.

My colleague told me I should just abandon this space with the post, and he can always help me to rebuild my life.

I think that was the sweetest thing said to me today.

Of course, all of you others who read it and responded. Much appreciated.

I don’t know what else to say anymore.

So as always, when I get put down, I make sure I bounce back in a way you guys never think before.

You can talk about me in the forums you want, leave ugly tags to rip my mask away as you love, so maybe, just maybe, if I do it myself you guys don’t have to do it for me.

Wifey says I don’t need to explain to anymore, but since I do or I don’t, I am the fucking bitch/hypocrite, I might as well do it, isn’t it?

Like I said, I am a person of emotions, I won’t say things I don’t mean. I was indeed feeling sorry for someone until someone senior put things into perspective of how the good wills, might actually be hypocritical. Cos why would someone lie about things that DIDN’T happen on her blog to look better and then admit it…. yet played the victim or “understanding” person on the front, I don’t know. The SMS and the blog post were of conflicting tones, so does that mean hypocritical too?

Yes I am a freaking hypocrite. I showed concern, and yet in my spite, I wanted to push someone over his limit and shame him, and someone else became collateral damage. I am spiteful, horrible, and a person I don’t know anymore and I don’t know why. It may just well be a phase and 2 weeks down I will turn back and laugh at myself, but I honestly told wifey how I felt, how I feel, and I allow her to judge me as a friend.

And then I suddenly could see and understand why he had turned up one day at my place with 2 butterfly knives.

Did I care? Nope. Did I regret? Sadly, no.

Have I ever done such a thing before? No, but er… I am ashamed to say it actually felt pretty darn good. For him to do it, though unfortunately, at your expense.

Fingers were never pointed in the right direction, and someone got away leniently, cos of all the contingency plans he has. And what comfort do the words of a liar brings?

It is the same thing, news do travel fast, someone asked do I think it is you, seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised. Then again, it is not right for me to assume. Be it be you, or not, if you had wanted to get to me, when you didn’t, now with the forums and tags, you(whoever you are) certainly did.

I know it will almost sound hypocritical(like any of you would think any better of me) of me to say, this is my version of what happened, and I might mention people who do not want to be mentioned anymore.

I don’t care.

Cos even if I don’t say it, the different versions will go from tags to tags, forums to forums, persons to persons. Might as well I ownself say it, isn’t it? Yes, I am shaming myself, perhaps I just cannot take it anymore, and I give up.

Almost 4 years ago, I fell for a guy with a girlfriend. We first met at the Blogcon in 2005.

It started with an innocent phone call on the 2nd day we met, a 9 hours phone call where he opened up his life stories, his past, and I shared mine. We became comfortable, and being the underachievers we were, I really thought there was something special there. Like someone understood.

We first slept together almost 2 weeks later.

Yes, you might already heard it somewhere, seen it on the tag, or some forums.

Yes, I am the slut they spoke about.

I saw the little boy, insecure behind the very tough exterior, who is very, very kindhearted. It was a life-changing phase. I became who I used to despise, I strayed from my religious beliefs.. and it was the first relationship… however inappropriate I had, since I broke off from the ex.

Strangely, I liked her too. I really do. And unfortunately, I was drawn to become friends with her, cos we hang out with same group of friends.

I was perhaps the 3rd or 4th person he cheated with during the relationship with her. The last before me being another colleague from Success Resources.

I got knocked up, he dragged me to the clinic to set an appointment. He was angry. But he still stayed around. Till he got afraid, he left me when I was 6 and half months pregnant, saying he wants nothing to do with baby.

When I was 8 months pregnant, he wanted to leave his girlfriend for another girl he had a crush with. He fell out with some of his friends, because of that.

He spoke to me when the contractions set in, with his last words to Vamp(no matter what happened, I will never forget who was there for the arrival, and still, I appreciate it) who was in the ward with me was to make sure his name doesn’t appear in the birth certificate.

Still, I gave Minibean the middle name Brianne, so that she still bears a part of him.

He brought his girlfriend to visit me at the hospital when Minibean was borned. To me, they were friends who visited, and I know it doesn’t sound right, but a part of me can really compartmentalise, and that I know he doesn’t belong to me. I would always looked on with envy, but never jealousy. I have no right to, do I?

I moved on my life with my job, until when baby was 2 months old and I met CBB.

We still kept in close contact, and when I told him about CBB, surprise surprise, we picked up where we left off, with him saying “Where do we go from here?”.

We didn’t know, until in October that year, Mel, a friend of mine whom I lost along the way, who eventually got together with Uncle Roy, decided to tell Uncle Roy the truth.

Uncle Roy(I still remember he used to say, if there were 50 pictures of different guys, he sure can pick out SBB, it still makes me laugh in the warm-my-heart kinda way), was understandably upset, and when people are defensive, I get.. hostile, so no surprises things spiralled from there.

I know I never said it, but I was sorry, but I had too much pride, and I don’t know who to trust, and I know you certainly didn’t trust me. And I had wished you had held the night at the taxi stand dearly. And I am sorry for losing you both, cos you both had mattered.

And yes you, Mindy, I owe you the biggest apology, which I always have no bloody guts to message you whenever I see you on MSN.

People put words into my mouth of words I didn’t speak(seriously, there is never win win situation, you shut up also kena, you say things also kena), pretended to be friends and feigned ignorance…. that was trying, but it was… a good filtering process.

It was like, even my cousin Ming looked down on me from the beginning. But oh well.

When I spoke to you, Tracy, that night, I did mean everything I said, and I really thought a female who was once hurt, could really see where I was coming from. It was no mind games. As much as things didn’t turn out to be, or perceived to be, I am still thankful that night I had someone who came down to listen to me at the playground.

And to Nick, whom I last saw at the petrol kiosk at the middle of nowhere, where I could see my place, somewhat I already know that will be our last meeting. I don’t know what happened thereafter, or what was being said by you, but I did mean everything I had tried to put across.

Vamp, for whatever reasons of why you decided to do what you did and I am sure you had your reasons, I am no friend of yours anymore, but it didn’t change the fact that you were there for me once.

Brian of course doubted me, and suspected I had an agenda. I cut off everyone just so it left no room for doubt. That was dark. Very dark. And he cut me off, to leave no room for doubt.

He spoke from a distant with plenty of coldness, and I understood where he was coming from. I had quit my insurance job just days before. And Mum’s vicious words left me with no space to breathe. I wanted… to end it all. I have the notes.

We drifted for a month, and Jeremy decided to get me out of my rut by getting me out of the house, and bringing me to club. That was when I picked myself up and knew, I was moving on.

He introduced a few friends, and a couple and I became close.

In came the phase of Uncle Keith, who was the one with the nightclub girl episode. And there was Dave baby.

In January, when I finished counting down at Zouk, I got emotional when I saw someone from the same group, and I burst out crying. That was my new year.

I reached home with an angry man standing by his bike. I was slightly tipsy and went to showers, leaving him sitting in a corner of my house in the dark.

As I blew dry my hair, he came up to me and grabbed me by my hair and kissed me violently.

I didn’t know what was going through his mind. I drifted off to sleep cos I was too tipsy.

But I remember he fucked me when I wasn’t responding and came inside me.

I remember it was a hurtful episode. It was like, ripping apart the wound that had healed and rubbing salt into it.

I burst out crying the very next day, with Uncle Keith telling me not to be afraid.

On 3rd January 08, we spoke very openly about how we did feel about each other cos he pressed me for an answer, and finally, I could muster the courage to tell him how much I really do love him, and for the first time, he told me no walls, no pretense, and recounted to me how he fell for me, the little things I used to do that touched him greatly… and when he recited those… they were the really little things. And as he said, I didn’t know he did remember that much, and I just couldn’t stop crying.

That wasn’t easy, it was liberating, and I got through the day with plenty of tears. Confronting your own feelings is never easy.

However, strangely, it felt more like a goodbye than a fresh start. It was like a closure.

Then came February, where his temper got the better of him, and led to an ugly confrontation when he nearly wanted to hit someone else. He knelt and begged for forgiveness.

I felt like I was… poison, and I drifted from everyone.

Things kinda got back on track, but it was never the same. Was he just there because he needed someone, and that he had lost my friends?

I tried to rebuild my life, got a job, and played plenty of mahjong.

People came and go.

I was glad to hide myself in my little hole, where we spent weekends not going anywhere. It was around then, when I just magically made him appear at my place, with baby calling him Papa, an informal introduction to my parents which needed no more words to affirm.

In March, he finally told his parents about Minibean, and they couldn’t accept in the beginning.

Then, the pressure also came in the form of his parents, questioning me in the face if Brian knows for sure Minibean is his.

It was perhaps in May when he first asked that we should get married. But how do you agree to such an impulse? And does he really want this because for baby, or does he really want this, because he can’t stand his loneliness anymore.

Truth is, the guilt plagued me for as long as it did. Yes, even when the messages on my tag boards came flooding in. That was why there was never direct mention anymore, cos I know there will be prying eyes, as there always are.

In August when I went for my interview, we met up with a group of my girlie pals. They spoke of a pending wedding of Peining.

And this is what he remembered and wrote of the day:

Monday, October 20, 2008
Ans to your question

Sweets,

you asked why I wasn’t there and
how come I have all of this free time all of a sudden…
to blog, come around and date…

think hard and think back…
I have always been there for you…
I want to spend the rest of eternity wrapped in your arms..

Why didn’t I blog?
Simple…
I was happy with you and baby by my side..
I had no reason to curse, swear and bleed on cyberspace…
I was content and happy…

Why do I have all this free time to pop by your hse?
Think and think hard…
If i wasn’t in the office working to build something for us, had to prove myself in my boss’s eyes to get that raise… why? read and you’ll find out I have something to buy…

I was with you…
Every weekend I was with you and no other…
Fri u would play mj
Sat and sun i was always there by your side…

Why do I have the time to date?
(I assume u’re talk about me bringing u out on dates?)
Sweets I don’t ever want to lose you…
Sometimes I get wrapped up in work and need a goog conk on the head…
I proposed to you for godsakes sweets…
I want to spend forever with you…

Sweets you know all those times that I asked if you would be free to take leave and spend time with me?
And your answers were “no”
I never told you this, becaused you always seemed so busy and stressed at work that I didn’t wannt to impose on you… Next time I know and I’ll just tell you
But every single one of those times I had to cancel the resort that I booked for us… I think the receptionist is pissed off at me

I try to lose myself in work the past few days…
but i can’t focus… only thing i can think of is you…
and it’s tearing me up…

End of june I called a friend
And bought a ring…
Why haven’t I done anything?
I wanted to propose to you in a manner that you have always dreamt about and sweep you off your feet…You’re my sweets and i’ll do anything for you

Remember that day at PS, where we were eatting with Wen M and company?
You were feeling under the weather..
We bought chocs at Marks & spencers…
your friend bought a fake bun…
Your friend was going to get married…
You guys were talking about rings…
Your eyes lit up at their desciptions..
mine felt sorely inadequate… you deserve more…
I refunded it and have been saving for the one which will make your eyes light up again.

Now, this post is one of plenty of irony.

Cos he had refunded the ring in September.

And with me questioning him about not being there… was because he had left me alone, citing work, and not even answering my calls, and just left me alone.

He said we should have some space.

I once pleaded with him, to meet me, but he said, “Unless it is marriage, we are off.”

I cannot agree to such emotional blackmail.

The irony is, that period when he had avoided me, he was pursuing Fiona from his workplace(yes, he has a tendency to fuck where he eats, 2nd one), watching movies. The days when he said he was tired and didn’t want to speak to me on the phone, he was telling her he was single and of course, he found a new doll.

And then, our contact dwindled, with him going out with someone, which I didn’t know, and I was left all alone.

I felt a need to pick up the pieces, and moved on. I went diving, I went clubbing, it was also a strange need for me to show whoever in the past, though it doesn’t matter to them, that I have moved on.

You know how great it felt when the people came into my blog leaving comments and I could just proudly say, “that was an episode and all of us had moved on?”

I had my pride, and I didn’t want to be seen I am still stuck in the rut after almost 4 years.

And then, I met someone else.

Then within days, the beggings, the emo episodes started from the other side.  The endless blog posts of how he loves me so completely and wholly in November. I was greatly touched.

He refused to let go, and nothing could move on at all.

It drove everyone crazy, everyone was looking for assurances from me, and as usual, I clammed up and died.

In November he proposed again, with a ring. 12th, was it?

The irony? It was just days after he fucked Fiona, and told her he wants a relationship.

And during one of those nights, he told me he wanted to stay over, and yet, I told him with me dating someone else, that could not happen.

I wanted whatever I had started to be… of a fresh and clean start, and I refused to let anything taint it.

Then again, I already did, by giving in to the endless emotional blackmail.

And in October and November, the pampering I got was something I never felt. But never once, when the gifts and flowers arrived, I felt happy, cos… I was wondering are both of them trying to compete with each other? And when the competition stops, where does that leave me again?

How funny it is, that people drift in and out, and it is only when people drift in, he will persist and come back. It is like there never was a time, we both want it as much.

In end December, unexpectedly, an elaborated proposal was set up, supposedly he had ended things with Fiona after only weeks.

I didn’t agree. There was a timeline set to it, but I was seeing someone else, didn’t I? It just seems like an unreasonable request outta me, even if it didn’t work out.

And it didn’t help I found a receipt of a dodgy hotel the day after the proposal, dating before my trip to Tioman. He swore, on baby’s life nothing happened between him and Fiona. But seriously, who was I to say anything?

Knowing how much a private person he is, why would he bother to go out of the way to help someone. I never trusted him from that day. Wifey often asked me why I never did consider it again after my relationship ended, but I always have the same answer, “I still feel like he is hiding something, I can’t find it within me to trust him.”

When the truth came out, he said “I swore nothing happened at the hotel.”

It dragged and dragged, and in front of wifey, he promised he will do ANYTHING to take good care of me, and he has not slept with anyone else since…. he broke off with his girlfriend. Out of nowhere he volunteered that information himself, and he swore on… gasp, MY LIFE.

Wah lau, sibei suey, scali I kena ran over by car, my Minibean become orphan, you all know why.

Then.

Came the day when my instinct serves me strong.

It told me to find her blog. I don’t know why. But that day, I stepped into my place with groceries, I dropped everything to just search for it. It is not hard to find even by google standard.

And then I found what I needed to know. The pictures she had posted of him hugging her, the baby she had mentioned. She had said of how he had said he would rather spend rest of his life with her, how he pestered her, how he said he loves her. And she calls me the drama queen using baby as trumph card.

So, she implied many other things.

That night, I slapped him till his face swell.

I think a part of me changed that very night.

The next day, she called me and wanted to meet me at my place.

Apparently, he admitted he slept with her in November, and that was to spite me cos I was seeing someone else. And by the way, he did tell me he was seeing a Felicia, who isn’t from Success Resources, but still in the same industry as them. He then said, “It was you who pushed me to it”. And he pointed the finger to me seeing someone else.

Okay. Fine.

But he said, many of the things she had said he said, didn’t happen.

And I was feeling too ashamed, and too inferior to meet her.

She insisted on calling me, to tell me that she blogged about the untruths cos she didn’t want to lose, she didn’t want her friends to see her as the loser, she was the one pestering him. But, he had pursued her in September, citing he was single since she joined in August.

The aunty of his told me she didn’t believe Fiona. I told her that wasn’t the case. She admitted she lied about him saying wanting to spend rest of his life with her(he had said it about me), she lied about the baby part, she lied about him pestering her. So why did she have to lie about him saying he was single in September.

And since he swore again he wasn’t lying, fine.

We took him by surprise(however hypocritical you say I am, I did mean it when I said thank you), and it reminded me of the times for his self preservation, how he warned me to deny everything we were confronted with in 2007.

So, with 4 way conversation, with Wifey and Mr Limp in the background, he had no choice but to admit he was lying when she repeated what he had said. His justification, haven’t we heard it all before “I don’t want to lose you.”

He justified he just needed friend, and he still insisted he didn’t know why he said he was single, except for the fact that he felt we were never defined and I had never wanted to hold his hands. And he said if he wanted to get into her pants, he could have done it earlier if he had wanted to and not waited till November.

What was heartbreaking of that phone call was… he was still being defensive and nonchalant, and came the classic line of  “So now, what did I do wrong?” an hour into the phonecall.

There was no sorry for me, for her, for anyone.

The follow up phone call was one with endless pleading of the softer side I fell for, “I will do ANYTHING, and EVERYTHING… please forgive me”

Though, I shall not mention about the coincidences that followed since that day, where… things will mysteriously happen when mentioned.

And yes, I have my karma.

I bet all you guys are sniggering.

And it doesn’t matter how he mentioned to me how he told his bosses, colleagues, best friends(whom he brought her out to meet), and even the people of the past like Uncle Roy and his ex-girlfriend how he wants to marry me. And it doesn’t matter how he rally his parents to help with the proposal.

The thing is, he said he wasn’t sure cos I was pushing him away for so long in 2008, and that he was sure and that’s why he dropped her on her ass when the distraction and spite wore off. 

I was spiteful back, and trust me, when I am spiteful back to him to hurt him where it hurts most, I can. But it was natural for me to keep him away from baby. He can say it is spite, but I remember when I was 16 and my dad had someone else, and I thought love for me is enough to remind him not to do things to hurt me. I didn’t want Minibean to grow up knowing she has such a father, and be hurt this way.

But I know behind all his self-righteousness, and all, when he is all defensive, he feels he doesn’t owe the world an explanation, and he has no guilt. Like he had said, “What I learnt from the episode(the one when everyone found out back in 2007), is that, everyone will move on, somehow.”

From someone who was suicidal and needed plenty of empathy, that was way cold.

I was then obsessed with the truth. And it was endless mental torment on him(it is easy for 2 persons who know each other’s weaknesses well to know what is the spot to rub, no pun intended). Like me getting back at him. Since he doesn’t feel hurt, the only way is to make him in some ways, hurt.

He said he would quit his job if he had to. Which he did.

Knowing how he had his rules on professionalism and integrity, yes oh well, that was an easy way out for him.

He always has easy way out. He made swore on everything I held dear that we would work things out and he would confess to his boss. Would he really do that? Would he go that far? Then again, what did he gotta lose? He was leaving anyway. He did it. So what? If only he knew it wasn’t what he does, but more of his reactions, his tone of voice… I don’t know.

So what if I know which hotel they went to, how they fucked, what she had said about me, and so on and so forth? Strangely, the truth does sometimes hurt, but it seems to make things more acceptable. Though seriously, how much of them are really truth? 

So this is my way of moving on from the episode, and the past almost 4 years.

But truth is… I don’t know purging all these, cleansing all these, detoxing all these, is probably my way of closure of whatever that happened. And maybe, at the expense of others, but do I care? Everyone says I care too deeply about what others say. Yeah, so now, even most of my friends don’t know this side of me, now they do.

I bet you guys are just thinking I am losing my sanity. But no, I am saner than any other day. It will be one of those posts I look back in few months time(actually I try not to look back at the past entries, knowing how some of my impulse speaks louder than my words. Hahaha, like how this is now).

I am turning 28 tomorrow. I do want a fresh start. Maybe I can also exercise that until I feel I owe no one.

Maybe it is a self-inflicted punishment I have for myself today. Maybe it is just me self-sabotaging myself. Maybe if I come to terms how fucked up my life and I AM, I could start to work on it.

Cos I owe an apology to everyone.

Truth is, I never did quite move on from 4 years ago, and me deluding all the new lives would bring me further away just didn’t seem to work.

And I know, this post is potentially hurtful, but I don’t look back this post with any feelings of such, yes, hypocritical again.

And I am ready to lose my pride as I say this here, despite all, I could still find it within me to make things work. Somehow all the shit that had happened, maybe you come out more polished, or you just lose hope. Because, there is a chance to address the root of the problem, the chance to be honest, the chance to… just open up.

Then again, there is no point when he loses hope and I don’t. Cos apparently, from the pleading boy he was, he became the one who is resigned and ain’t sure anymore, when I finally decided, maybe, when all the bad happened, and if we can find it wihin ourselves, we could. From being the one insecure, he became the one who found his footing, and me, in pieces again. Am I never good enough? Maybe.

Like I said, there was never a point when he wants, I want. It was always either party.

And we were constantly gearing up for the other party to walk away.

Where does it bring us? I don’t know.

And I hope he isn’t reading this, but knowing him, he will be.

And it could potentially just kill off whatever chance we have cos it will affect him and put more emotional pressure on him.

I think, it is just sad there never was a time, we both stopped to help with the pressure each had. One side builds the wall, another tries desperately to break down the wall, and the vicious cycle repeats.

He said we never had a proper chance cos I never did let the past go. We were never defined though we were always there for each other) Do I think he deserves a chance? Yes, if he is honest, but do we have a chance? I don’t think he is certain of the answer, so what for I answer this on his behalf?

Don’t ask me why I am doing this, don’t need to tell me I am insane, don’t need to tell me I am a slut, don’t tell me I deserve better, don’t tell me who is being whatever cos I don’t need any of those.

Call me stupid, cos I ended up being the ragdoll sitting in the rain again. Am I a victim? Nah, I allowed it to happen, much to the frustration of people who do love me. So yeah, laugh your heads off now. Mrs kp, you are right, karma is like such, and somewhat I kinda feel better with the karma, in a strange and warped way, you know?

I want to say I will cut down on blogging after this post, which I finally found some of the honesty that eluded me. But being an emotional and totally random person, I know I will be back. Of course, I have my 28th, my fresh start to think about, no matter where it is heading. 

I know this blog will have its consequences. But like always, coming to terms with it, is what I have braced myself for. You can doubt my intentions or whatsoever, but after Wifey was worried about me blogging this, she vetted and thought, “why not, go ahead.”

I really should let the past go, thus I didn’t read back this post, except when I thought of things to add in.

I don’t think I will read back this post either. Cos it is ugly. I am ugly.

And, 28 is NOT late twenties. Ahem.

I shall end this, with the song which… I adore.

this is the last time
that I’m ever gonna come here tonight
this is the last time – I will fall
into a place that fails us all – inside
the angels they burn inside for us
are we ever
are we ever gonna learn to fly
the devils they burn inside of us
are we ever gonna come back down – come around
I’m always gonna worry about the things that could break us

I can see the pain in you
I can see the love in you
but fighting all the demons will take time
it will take time

the angels they burn inside for us
are we ever
are we ever gonna learn to fly
the devils they burn inside of us
are we ever gonna come back down
come around
I’m always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold

this is the last time
that I’m ever gonna give in tonight
are there angels or devils crawling here?
I just want to know what blurs and what is clear – to see

still I can see the pain in you
and I can see the love in you
and fighting all the demons will take time
it will take time

if I was to give in – give it up
- and then
take a breath – make it deep
cause it might be the last one you get
be the last one
that could make us cold
you know that they could make us cold
I’m always gonna worry about the things that could make us cold

Of course I am alright.

All I did was just to be a drama queen like all of you made me out to be, as always, you know?

But -gives a diva wave of dismissal- me, being me, of course whatever I wrote here is not true, and just…. a ruse. An attention-grabbing stunt.

Of course, there wasn’t additional drama last night, one of passion, spite, and everything not right.

Then again, I wish that is me. It would be so easy.

So, where do I go now?