I knew this was coming… It was inevitable: our end. I’ve been crying for two days but it’s not the usual hysteria that consumes me whenever J and I broke up. That’s what I love about you… you are such a positive influence in my life. It’s foreign. Sure, we have our drunken arguments. Sure, we do crazy things. But with you I feel the need to keep a level head. I guess, that’s what I would miss most in days, weeks, months to come; the person I am when I’m with you. Before I met you, I was a mess. Wrecked in a vicious cycle with an alcoholic who never cared about me. The more time I spent with you, the brighter it became… the abyss seemed further away, I had slowly but surely, with your help (whether intentional or not), inched closer to the surface. Closer to shore, closer to a reality I deserved. When I was with you, I was constantly smiling, constantly laughing. There were odd moments when I get an out-of-the-body experience and I see myself being affectionate, I see myself absorbed with everything you say. I see the awkward little distant look I get when I calculate and dissect every word you say, every movement you make. I see myself yearning to be closer to you, even when we’re skin on skin. When I’m with you, the foreign little thing called happiness suppressed my dark thoughts. You made me so inexplicably happy. There were days when I would smile to myself when I’m on the train, when I’m walking round the mall. The sun really did shine brighter with you in my world.

I will dearly miss the nights we would stay up till it was bright out, having our silly arguments, talking about everything and anything. I would definitely miss how we always kiss. I sometimes forget where I am when I’m with you. I will miss the way you look at me, you made me feel special. You made me feel silly for craving for perfection. I felt like I was enough. You made me feel complete. I catch myself feeling this way sometimes – when the serotonin subsides and my sense ebbs at my mind – and I think, “How foolish”. But then I’d steal a glance at you, and I think, “This is right” instead.

It’s strange how I’m calm right now. I’m crying, yes, but not in hysterics. I’m crying because I know I’m never finding another like you. You showed me there was light at the tunnel of that end. You made me stronger. I’m crying over that inevitable day when you would conveniently forget about me, and the amazing time we shared. I’m crying over how annoying life works out… here, I have an ideal relationship but just unfortunate timing, unfortunate feelings, it seems. I’m crying because I know I won’t have my wonderwall anymore. I’m crying because now, now, I no longer have you in my life. And that’s just unfortunate. I miss you already, Sam. X

I am shattered. I am heartbroken. I am disappointed. But at the end of it all, I owe it to myself to be with someone who actually wants to be with me. I don’t want to be stuck on call and come a’running every time he wants me there. I may be forever alone, but I’m not someone to fuck around with. I owe it to myself to find someone who knows for sure. I know it’s a stinking myth, a stupid fairytales girls hold on to, but that is my standard… you either cut it or you don’t. And I’m sorry mate, but you don’t. So hey, I’m single again……. teqqqqqqquuuuui-motherfuckin-laaaaa times ahead xxxx

• Just taking a break from the design work I was tasked to do as part of the interview process. 
• I am glad I have other interviews lined up and this isn’t a do-or-die situation.
• The problem with me is that I’m a perfectionist. I know this is typical interview answer (which I now refrain from saying anymore).
• Being a perfectionist, if it isn’t shaping out to be as beautiful/pretty/attractive as I’d envisioned it to be… I would abandon ship. (In other words: give up)
• Had my palm read by a master palmist or whatever the heck they’re called… Here are a few highlights from the very short but nonetheless highly interesting and hilarious session: 

1. apparently I have the VIP line which is rare - this means that I would either be surrounded/have to deal with VIPs, or my husband would be a VIP or I am the VIP myself. 
2. I have the fish which is extremely rare (only 20 in how-ever-many-thousands have ‘em). It basically means I bring my husband luck. 
3. I should sell beautiful things to men apparently. 
4. I am high-maintenance, “no money, no talk” said Master Khor. To an extent, I do agree with this. But I believe I’m a pretty chilled-out girl to date. I guess I would nitpick when it comes to the One compared to, say, just a person I was dating.
5. I tell a lot of white lies. I found this hilarious. because.
6. I am a psychic, I read people very well. Without a doubt, this was spot on. 
7. A major change beckons at ages 26 and 31. Oooooooooooooohh

• From my sappy text posts, I think it’s pretty obvious that previously-Rebound Guy-turned-man…thing is now my boyfriend. Which I am deliriously happy about.
• Unfortunately, he will be away for the next 9 days or so. :( 
• It’s the start of Day 3 since he’s gone and I already terribly miss him.
• I am at least glad that we spent most of the weekend together. 
• We very rarely - or not even at all - not see each other for more than 2 days, I guess that will most definitely make things more difficult for us.
• I am glad we’re not the kind of couple who say “I love you” after every phone/text convo… I like that it holds a certain value to us and I don’t want to cheapen the words, not with us.
• I hope I don’t screw things up.
• Can’t wait for vacay time next Saturday!!!!!!!
• Merp. Time to get back to work, actually, I think sleep sounds more alluring.
• Hi and goodnight. xxxxxxxxx

I want that moment to be forever. An infinite. So rarely am I happy, so rarely do I feel completely whole. My steps are lighter and I don’t quite feel the heavy weight upon my shoulders wearing me down as much. It scares me. Funny, isn’t it? How happiness and disillusion gets so misconstrued, so twisted. Without even realizing it, the two separate antonymic feelings become a twisted toxic cocktail. I don’t want to make a mistake, not because I am afraid of getting hurt. Alas, I have been hurt before and knowing what I know now: that there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel, I am not afraid. Not anymore. No, I am scared to err because I want it to be you; I want to be right about you. I want you to be right. (And I want to be right for you, too.) Oh, it’s the way you look at me; I want to burn it into my memory. I want it to leave a mark so I can never forget the way you look at me – you make me feel special – like I’m the only one. I want that moment to be forever, even if we don’t quite know, just yet, if we’re made for forever.  

All I’ve been doing for the past 4 months is sooking about at home, buying an inappropriate amount of clothes online, getting drunk every weekend and listening to my crappy playlist. Stuff that needs to get done:

• FIND A JOB.
• Start saving money for my birthday trip. Destination: Unknown, as of now.
• Start saving money to afford rent. I want to move out from this place, not because I hate my family or anything like that. I’d much rather be independent and live on my own terms.
• Finally sitting down and getting started on the project I’ve had in mind for a long while. Business stuff, surprise, surprise. 
• MONEY, MONEY, MONEY
• Spending more time with my friends, i.e: people who matter that matters
• Sorting out relationship issues… boyfriend, the Ex. Knowing where I stand in their lives and where they stand in mine. 
• Going out to party only ONCE a week.
• Saying no to tequila shots.
• Stop saying “let’s get jagerbombs”
• Stop buying shots for everyone when I’m happy
• Sort out my emotional/mental health… 

• I seem to have miraculously acquired a taste for champagne.
• All I want right now is a never-ending supply of mimosas
• Or a perfectly chilled bottle of Moscato would do just fine.
• I want to skip right through to August when I’ll finally get some vacay time in
• Even though it’s only Phuket, Thailand which I’ve been to 873041834893 times
• But the thought of being there with my boyfriend and my best friend is making me so deliriously excited. 
• I hate goodbyes.
• I get all weird the week before I’m supposed to say goodbye, it’s an annoying defense mechanism. 
• In all seriousness, it’s only 12 days so I don’t know why I’m being such a sook about it.
• Imagine how horribly I’d miss him.
• But yes, 6 days on the trot with him, away from this dull city could only ever do us good
• I want molten chocolate cake & Nando’s now. Yuk

it definitely means you’re (me) spending too much money (me) that you currently do not have (me). I felt so hollow after confirming my order with ASOS but I got 4 bikinis for a totally measly price, which as measly as it is, my unemployed bank accounts can’t fucking handle. The bright side is that the bikinis are gorgggg and dirt cheap. Also, it means I’m ready for vacay time with my boyfriend, my best friend (and her loverboy). Which in turn means, hella tequila shots, jagerbombs and rock music! Although, I would have to endure 12 days without any loving, I guess the vacay makes up for it. Kinda. Anyway, he’s away on a boys’ trip for the weekend… and I miss him already. Boo 

xx

My weakness has always been my constant craving for assurance and acceptance. I build mental and emotional barricades when I don’t get my (self-)prescribed doses. They are like tolls, tolls that lead you to my heart, to my mind, to my actual being. You have passed most of the tolls so far, getting by with a couple free passes, forgotten drunken conversations. Yet, there are a fair few tolls that you can’t get through and you’re forced to make a detour. And I am forced to wait for you, a little longer. I have always been wearing my heart on my sleeves. Despite priding myself on being the great pretender, there are one too many times when my control breaks, my face becomes a canvas, a billboard, and my emotions are bare for all to see. I lose control. And when I am so vulnerable like that, I am deigned to urge you to let me in. I can’t help but implore you to come join me, come be vulnerable with me. I want to know the very elixir that’s running through your bloodstream, the drive behind every heartbeat, the story behind every sigh, the panorama with every look. I want you to let me in. I want us to be a novel, the story of us, together. Let me in. 

In his bed, naked, hungover and sore listening to H.A.M (my jam of the moment), cos I’m gangsta like that. He’s gone downstairs to get me hangover sandwich. (what’s not to love about him?) And I miss him already, I want him back here, in bed. We were watching Harry Potter except we kept getting distracted and having to rewind four times. There are times when I just look at him and feel so tempted to tell him I love him, instead I kiss him. Which is better, to be honest. And there are times when he’s staring at me and I feel like he’s about to tell me he loves me, but he kisses me instead. Which is better to be honest. Xxx

I can’t seem to place exactly why I’m finding this so hard to write. I’ve literally been typing for hours only to furiously tap the delete key. It’s not like I have nothing to say, I have everything to say, so much. Just a couple of days ago, I had come to the conclusion that we were over. So many things were said, so much alcohol consumed. You were spot on, that night was “intense”. When I saw you the next day, I was almost certain it would be the last time we would see each other. But then you said, “I missed you so much”. “Only a day, less than a day,” I say. You explained why and how you missed me. I laughed it off. “Silly,” I retorted. In actuality, I marveled at how uncanny your sentiments were to mine about being apart for that meager 24 hours.  That revelation rattled my certainty just a tad. You then went on to say, “We’re going to be happy, I have decided, we’re going to be happy together.” “You sure?” “Yes.” Laughter. I don’t know why or how I was convinced you meant it. But right then, I was certain – certain that yes, we are meant to give it a proper try.

I want more – if that is even possible. I want more. I want more of you. I want more of us. I want more of your kisses – soft at first then growing persistently hungry. I want more of you making me lose my breath. I want more of you making me grasp at the bed sheets tightly. I want more time, longer minutes, tired hours, when I’m with you. I want more of your skin on mine. I want more of us lying in bed completely satiated, gasping for air steadying our breathing. I want more, despite the bruises. 

It took every fiber of my being to leave the bed, to leave the comfort of being snuggled up right next to you. It didn’t help that you kept saying, “I want you to stay” and refusing to let go. Oh, I wish you knew how much I wanted to stay with you, to fall asleep next to your ridiculously warm body as you stroke my hair and pepper my back with nibbles and soft kisses. I wanted to stay. I wanted more. 

It’s one of those rare moments when I’m actually really happy… it’s overwhelmingly scary. I fear the inevitable drop from a high. What goes up must come down. My life isn’t exactly peaches right now, even… I still have yet to find a job. That aside, I feel strangely content. Maybe it’s because I’ve been getting regular doses of retail therapy, massages, facials and mani-pedis. Maybe it’s because I’ve struck off a couple of things off my Lust List namely: a couple of MAC lipsticks, just ordered a few pretty dresses, and…. (I’M REAL EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE) A NEW iPhone!!!!!!!!!!!! Woooop woop! Yup finally replaced my dud of a scratched up and outdated iPhone 4 with a spanking (quasi-outdated) white iPhone 4S. Also, with a stroke of luck, I found a place here which would change the housing for just $160! However, since I now have a new set I’d prolly sit on that for a little while longer. 

Other things that are making me happy? Finally sorting things out with Rebound Guy - who henceforth shall now be referred to once again as… manthing - is such a bloody relief. Although, we had quite the rocky start when we tried to go at it again, I feel like we have finally found our footing, and it’s making me ludicrously happy! After our pseudo-breakup, I was a lil bit skeptical about him and resorted to being cold and not investing too much emotionally. This, however, resulted in a ridiculously drawn-out argument and I thought that was it… until he came for me. It made realize just how silly all of this was, we obviously have serious feelings for each other. It’s just stupid how I have been oppressing my feelings for him and getting myself all worked up when I should have just taken it in my stride, slow and steady instead. Anyway, like I said, I’m really glad we sorted things out and explicitly expressed that we do want to be with each other. 

However, I’m not gonna pin hopes on this. Heck, it’s prolly the pills I just took which allegedly “promotes a positive mood”. Yup, what a crockload of bollocks. I guess I just have to go with the flow, as they say. Getting hurt is a constant possibility, but if I let simple possibilities like that act as a bulkhead then I’m never going to find happiness now, am I? 

X

The looming prospect of the next day, of tomorrow, of the morning after repulses me. It just means another day, another long dreadful day of the same old shit. Nothing changes. This fucking consistency – the only fucking consistency in my life – is toxic; it’s fucking poison. Why do I even bother? The fact that I put in however bit of energy into trying repulses me. I put on a mask with a vapid smile on it, I fix my hair, I fix my make-up, and I pick an outfit. What for? For the idiocy of everyday life! To satiate my craving for acceptance from fucking strangers! I can’t, I am not supposed to say no. I can’t say no. I can’t say no, I don’t want to do this. No, this isn’t me. No, I just need you. No, I just want you to accept me. No, I just want you to see me. No, I just want you to hear me. No, I just want you to fucking hold me. I can’t. No one can. You can’t show that side of you, not a single molecule of weakness is to be seen by anyone. So tomorrow, I will duly put on my mask; try to hide my feelings, my depression, my thoughts, and my words. I will smile and nod at the things he says, I will laugh at correct intervals, stick in a few witty comebacks whenever necessary – just so he knows I’m present – and I will kiss him when I feel like I’m about to break down and say something. So tomorrow, I will try. Again.

I can’t sleep. I hate sleeping alone. I truly do. I remember days when I couldn’t wait for the sun to set and for the city to slowly churn into a quiet humdrum. I remember those days; those were the days with you. You would be working and I, naturally, would sit on the couch watching brainless reality TV giving you a running commentary. I knew you never listened nor cared but there was something strangely comforting about shooting empty words forming meaningless sentences about the most trivial of life. It was that non-committal “oh yeah?” “mmhmm” “okay” from you that I get in response; a verbal receipt to assure me I wasn’t alone, you were there. You were there.  “Ready for bed?” you would say once you were finished. Yes, of course, of course I was. I liked the way we would automatically curl up; there was nothing awkward or forced about it. It was the most natural thing to do; you and I fit together. The curves of our bodies, the way our fingers interlaced, we were a complete jigsaw puzzle – finally put together. There were times when I would drift out of sleep, and in my semi-conscious state I would jolt and panic for a moment before I feel the heat of your body against my body, your heavy breathing against the nape of my neck. I breathed again – you were there. You were there. I have nothing now. I have gotten so used to falling asleep next to you… that the idea of sleeping alone seems so foreign now. It has been months, so many months, yet I still haven’t gotten comfortable sleeping alone. Nights like these, I wish you were here.

I wish you were here.

• Go to a big-scale music festival. For example: Reading, Leeds, Big Day Out et cetera
• Learn how to swim, because which idiot can’t swim in this day and age? (me)
• Go snorkeling and see fishes, corals and shit.
• Ride a bat-shit crazy rollercoaster ride. You’re gonna die anyway, what’s the harm in tempting fate? Or potentially, or rather, more possibly, dying from being too scared.
• Buy something in Chanel. At this point a 2.55 would deem pointless, unless, I somehow manage to squeeze in sexy time + getting preggers + giving birth to a healthy bundle of (unfortunate) joy between now and dying, then it’d make a great family heirloom.
• Guilt trip mom/kind soul to pay for an all-expense paid trip to Europe: gondolas in Venice, gelato in Milan, paying my homeboy a visit in Vatican City, the Eiffel tower (maybe fall in love/lust/desperation also) in Paris, currywurst in Berlin, visit gulags, witness change of guards in London, eat spacecakes and visit the red-light district in Amsterdam, go to a nudist beach, go to Old Trafford and catch a live home game… 
• Catch Kings of Leon live. 
• Go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
• Do something worthwhile for once for the unfortunate people. Like distribute mosquito nets, build a shelter, distribute ration… You know, actual stuff not passive charitable acts (however honorable) like donating…
• Enjoy wining and dining. Or better yet, ENJOY FOOD.
• Go to a tropical haven like Maldives, Bora Bora, or heck even Byron Bay.
• Hear my mom say the words, “I’m proud of you”
• Go to a karaoke bar and sing sad sappy depressive shit and/or cheesy pop songs.
• Feel irrevocably and genuinely loved.
• Fall in love.

• Nando’s makes me so ridiculously happy.
• Spent $80 on One Direction merch, I am ashamed of myself, yes.
• Not too ashamed to still want 1D bed sheets.
• What the fuck is going on with me :(
• Saw my … friend, previously known as Rebound Guy twice the past week. T’was nice. 
• Just had Nando’s with the Ex, zero emotional attachment. *applause* Had a funny inexplicable feeling though… but not that kind. I guess it was just sadness, the realization dawning on me that I no longer have “a person”.
• Decided to kill the nicotine habit.
• Couldn’t drink too much this weekend cos I still feel funny from my … predicament. 
• I got so wasted on Thursday night, I didn’t even know how I got home much less, what happened that night. Sad.
• I am legit going to live in my Love Liam tee for the entire course of my life.