Actually, I'm not even sure if you can call it a race since we are only planning to walk the 6km. Lol. But as long as we finish it within the allocated time slot of 3 hours. Easy lah.
I'm not sure if I want to run though. It's only 6km. I'm pretty sure it's doable... ok I better stop blogging the cabby took a wrong turn and now I have no idea where we are.
The only thing is that my liver probably hates me now, what with all the drinking I've been doing to see me through the days.
If the grasshopper is happy now, I hope it's worth it for him cos my life sucks now and it's all his fault.
So I can sleep in tomorrow morning, yay!
It's hard to believe how quickly time has passed, and that it'll almost be 4 weeks to The Day. The day my heart broke into a million pieces. The day he decided enough was enough. The day all the hopes and plans and dreams shattered into nothing.
I try to look back at how I survived, but it's all a blurry mess. Lots of alcohol, an insane amount of time crying, meeting random people and just remembering to breathe. Don't even get me started on the huge dent in the bank account. Bleh.
One can't help but wonder: how did it all fall apart? When? Why? (Well, everyone now knows that he was unhappy. Apparently for the longest time.) Does he even care? How come he never called, was it that easy to move on?
I lapsed, twice in fact, and made contact when I shouldn't. Both times I was greeted with a certain coolness, an offhandish demeanour that assured me that he had already put us in the past.
But really, that's all we are, isn't it? Past tense. A memory of almost two happy years.
I shouldn't be thinking about this now. Not when I've made so much progress moving on. But I can't help the hot tears that roll off my eyes, soaking my pillow.
You'd think it'd be easy, what with the many experiences I have dealing with heartbreak. But somehow this time is different. I have to remember the outcome will always be the same. I'll survive this, life goes on.
The original plan to go to India for three weeks is obviously off, even though the pothead recently emailed to ask if the trip to Ladakh was still on. I could, I guess, but I don't think I can go to India without doing something stupid. Maybe next time.
So now, the new destination is Shanghai. Cheryl is there and coincidentally so will my sister, and since I'm a slut for free accomodation, I might as well just brush up on my chinese and book my tickets. Dui bu dui?
Might also go to Laos, just because. Don't know when though, maybe for a couple of days in end May. Let's see if we plan anything.
Africa is not happening, at least not the climb to Kilimanjaro. Don't want to die. We might just go anyway, one day, to see the safari. Wildebeest migration and what not. Mmmm.
Ok time to get off the bus.
Well I did buy me shampoo, conditioner and hair mask. So now my hair is softer and silkier, and that's always a good thing.
I've yet to make an appointment with the chiropractor, I'm still drinking like a fish (in fact I'm on my way to Brewerks now lol) and Muay Thai classes ermm...
Heehee.
Well there is always next week, I say.
When I'm with you:
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
When I lose you:
_/\____________
It's time to take care of myself and there are several things I have in mind. I want to get a haircut (what is it about breakups that make girls want to get a haircut after?), maybe sign up for a manicure and pedicure package (maybe only), go check out a chiropractor to get my back fixed, and attend Muay Thai classes a little more religiously than I'm doing now.
I'm definitely planning on cutting down on the drinking sessions, and I need to get me moisturiser, shampoo and conditioner. Maybe I'll splurge and get me something nice.
Anyway that's the plan. Let's see how things pan out. Whee!
While I can't remember everything that has happened, here are some things that have made me smile.
- drinking beer and singing chinese and hokkien songs at sky bar
- $14 jugs of beer at brewerks on sunday afternoon
- sunday morning walks from chestnut drive to bukit timah hill and back
- 15 tequila shot challenge
- comedy club at blu jaz and meeting someone who has an imdb page
- free magic show by imdb guy just to cheer me up
- heckling lgg to make out with imdb guy (cos he has an imdb page!)
- getting a call from cheryl in shanghai after she received email proof that lgg did indeed make out with imdb guy
:)
It's the letting go that is the hardest. Sure there are a million guys waiting in line to have a snog or a shag, but what's the point when the only one I want is him?
There are pills and potions that can take away the pain, and for a moment I was secretly smug that I found a way to move on and let go. But the heart does not work that way, does it? It takes time to heal and mend, and there are no shortcuts to take.
It's actually this period that's hardest and lasts the longest. That stretch of time before you truly can say that you've let go and moved on. Nothing (short of brain surgery, and maybe hypnosis) can do the letting go and moving on for you. It's a process that could take weeks or months, or even years.
All that you can do is just live life as normally as possible, and hopefully you'll wake up one morning and realise that somewhere along the way you had let go and didn't even notice.
It's very scary how much we know about how to kill oneself. Not that I would do it, of course, but the thoughts that flit through my head can be quite.. disturbing.
.. I'd write more about the dos and don'ts of proper wrist slitting, but really, there is no reason for one to ever kill oneself. So no, am not going to put anything up in this space, lest I become and unwitting accomplice to someone else who is having the same crazy thought.
It's not worth it.
Had a rather interesting dream last night. Or at least I think it was a dream, or maybe it was just me visualising.
..
Somehow a path just opened up in front of me. It was a white curving path that led downslope, and as I walked, I realised that I was walking (quite literally) into my own head.
It's hard to describe what the inside of my head looked like, but the "walls" were white and soft.. OMG I just realised they remind me of the padded walls mental hospital holding cells. Bleh. Except that in my head, the walls weren't flat but rounded, kinda like giant balls.
Anyway I'm walking around inside my head and I'm thinking to myself that it would probably be a good idea to turn off the tears. Crying for one week straight is very tiring, you know. So I navigate to my left eyeball, where there was a giant wheel (something like those red wheels in movies that they have to turn to close pipes) that I could turn to turn off the tears. And of course, I went to my right eyeball and did the same.
Decided to look for my stomach so that I could turn off the constant naseating ache. I also wanted to go to my heart and turn off the overwhelming feeling of consuming pain. But seeing as I was literally in my head, the walk seemed a little too far. I sat there, desperate to do something, anything to make these feelings disappear, but someone in my head told me, "Just let it be."
..
So I guess I'll just have to let it be (until I have another dream / visualisation).
I don't know what to do.
But the downside to such distractions is that you end up spending a shitload of money. Drinking at lunch and all through the night is expensive. Add the cab fare with midnight surcharge to all that, and you've got one broke bunny.
So the plan is to find all the places with ladies night. It's been such a long time since I've done this and I'm not sure where to start. Hmmm I think I'll make this my project for tomorrow.
How do you forget the most intimate moments where you connect in every possible way? The moments you laughed and cried? The conversations both deep and inane?
How do you forget his face? His touch? The sound of his voice?
This morning as I was getting ready to leave the house, my mom asks if she could throw away my broken shoes.
"Which one?" I asked.
And she held up that same pair of grey pumps, now with a giant tear in it. Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but when I looked at how sad and broken the shoe was, it felt like that was my heart all torn up.
That now-familiar choking feeling returned, tears started welling in my eyes and I told my mom not to throw them out. Not yet.
..
I walked to the MRT and was crossing the road. A car is driving towards me. At that moment it felt like I was just watching myself and my first thought was that it's ok, please just hit me and take all this pain away. But the driver slowed down to let me pass, and I walked on.
And it's inevitable to introspect and analyse, and try to figure out what went wrong. Demons come out during these hours when you're alone in bed, and you question yourself, your worth, your ability to love and make another person happy. You recount past conversations and incidences, and try psychoanalyse your own personality.
I know I have issues, especially trust issues, and I know I have to deal with them or this will just be a cycle that repeats itself. Part of me wants to run to the grasshopper and say, "Please wait for me while I sort these out because I love you and want to be with you!". A desperate cry, clinging on.
But it takes two hands to clap. And there were obviously more than one problem that we had.
It's only the start of Day 3 and I'm impatient for the nauseating feeling in the pits of my stomach to go away. Perhaps it's this rush to want to heal and get better and have all this pain taken away, that's making my mind jump to all sorts of crazy scenarios of calling the grasshopper and pleading with him to make it all work out. (Or perhaps this is just natural.)
I'm scared. Yesterday I had the advantage of walking around in a dulled and zombified frame of mind, thanks to the three hours of sleep I got the night before. Today, I have the challenge of going through the day with my mind well rested. I don't want to know what thoughts will creep in.
But baby steps. I've been through heartbreak before. One deep breath at a time.
And everyone knows time heals all wounds. But it's still tough.
