One Gloomy December Morning

 

I remember this kind of day. No sun, only grey clouds hanging in the sky. It’s not dark and scary, but enough to put people into their glooms. There’s a chill in the air. It’s the one that gently caress your skin and makes you take a deep breath just to feel that air inside your nostril. It’s a feeling not easy to describe, but definitely hard to forget.

The feeling brought me back in time. I was a kid at that time. It’s the morning of Chinese New Year. I forgot which year, but I remember that the morning’s air was the same as today’s. It was a hopeful day. I hoped to get a lot of red envelopes filled with money so I can get enough to buy toys or things I desired  that my parents can’t buy. At that time, despite of the hope, I knew that I still won’t get a lot and every envelope I got would be given to my parents.

There was a protest in me. Those moneys are mine. But I had no choice since it was my parents who was asking for them. I promised myself ever since, I will get a lot of money later to but the things I want.

It’s been years since that gloomy morning. I’m now standing on the side of Jl. Satrio with a cup of coffee in my hand. It’s far from my parent’s home and  from where I started since that gloomy morning. I look at my surrounding. Yes, it’s the exact same weather and feeling. But this time it’s different. I feel a sense of relief. I bought my own coffee, I paid my own room rent and managed to purchase the stuffs I need with my own money. I let myself smile a bit.

I took a moment to look at the traffic, saw the sky and once again breathed the chilly air. I felt like I’m saying to myself: you’re almost there, it’s not far now; you’ve come a long way, but it’s all worth the effort. I let the feeling sink in and I set out to face the day, hoping for more “gloomy” mornings in the future, all in different place and different memories.

 

December 10^th 2011.

Love, Under Construction

(24 August 2011, 01.09 am)

It’s past midnight. I’m sitting in alone outside of my room, just near the parking lot. Engulfed by the smokes from a burning cigarette and noises from the street, I focus my mind to type words I really mean to say.

It’s been days since I had a sip of love. An emotion I dare not to deal. A word I scare to say or even think. A feeling that has put me in misery, yet I have no strength to resist. Now, with courage I will say it: I fell for a guy. Over a short conversation, over touches where our bodies collide, I let myself vulnerable to love.

After receiving a cold gesture the guy I fell for, I decided to give up. Tortured every time I hear the fence opening or a car pulling in the parking lot, I was longing for him to invite me back to his room and talk. I just want to talk. Listen to his voice while looking into his eyes, guessing if the feeling is mutual.

Feeling rejected, I retreated into a solitude. I pulled myself away and blocked every thought of him that relentlessly tried to creep in my mind and grow hopes, “what ifs”. I realized that it is the best thing to do. I had to let go. A part of me said that I’m foolish; I haven’t tried hard enough or fought brave enough for love. Yet, I decided to give up on this war and take back the control I relinquished.

Because of this feeling, I have let my world to fall into a  labyrinth, where uncertainties are all that linger. I tried to seek my way out, hoping of a triumph when I know for sure it doesn’t exist. I was frustrated and doubt myself of the ability to love or to find love, the one that’s reciprocal. I was afraid that this is it. The love will always be out of reach for me. I was terrified. And I still am.

I will never know if he has feeling for me or he was just fooling around just like the other guys I’ve been with. But I know this for sure: I don’t want to know. I don’t want to seek for answers for they will just lead to confusions and heartbreaks. I will just leave it here and walk away. Was my heart crushed? I don’t know. It was hurt but I know it’ll survive

As I was typing this post, I looked over the fence, far where I can see the lights from a building under construction. I imagine every brick, concrete, cement, are all elements being put together to assemble a majestic creation which will invite awes and admiration from people passing through or seeing it from the inside. I imagine seeing the building as my heart being built, brick by brick, until it perfectly stands high and tall. I imagine every brick represents a moment in my life that constitutes to the whole construction. The top parts can’t be built unless the ones on the below are complete.

As a remedy of the recent failure and hurt, I let myself to believe that the frustrations,  glimpses of love, are just parts I need to endure in order to complete the higher construction.

For now I choose to see it that way. Love will take me to different heights and my heart is under the construction to take me there.

 

Acceptance

(17 August 2011. 12.48 pm)

I was standing in front of my room. It was 12 AM. A half-smoked cigarette on my hand and a mug of cheap instant coffee on my other hand. As I inhaled the nicotine and exhaled the breath of cold mint out from my nostril, I thought of acceptance. The word, the concept, that has been haunting me.

It was not hard, thorough, self-psychoanalysis. It was just a series of ideas. One by another flashing through the spaces within my head.

The trigger? 2 days ago. Someone whom I never known before, whose image now stuck in my head. It was a good night. A really good one. Now, consistent with the storyline of my past and present, cold shoulders are only I have.

That person, or perhaps my own perception of him, is screwing my brain. The main cause: I can’t get him. He’s out of reach. Sounds familiar? Of course it does, since that’s the only pattern of “romantic relationship” that my head and heart ever known. The sickening thought: it’s the only thing that they desire and relish. When it’s not attainable, then it become the thing I desire the most.

When I tried to break down the cause of my tendency in a relationship, I found that acceptance is the very concept that governs my decisions and choices in life.

My whole life, I have been fighting for acceptance. Acceptance from my parents who have to stop thinking that other kids are better than theirs. Acceptance from the boys in my childhood playground who always left me out of every game, made me stuck playing with the girls. Acceptance from the middle school’s basketball team who never let me shoot a ball to the ring. Acceptance from the high school popular kids who have to stop mocking at me. Acceptance from my own self who never think I’m good enough, smart enough, kind enough, trying hard enough.

The non-existence of acceptance has forced me to try harder to fit in. It failed. I eventually tried things out of the mainstream. When other kid bragged about solving complicated math formulas, I tried memorizing lines from US soap operas. When other guys played soccer, I researched on material for debating competition. Not being accepted has made me rise above the others in a different way. But deep down I never feel enough.

Same thing applies when it comes to romantic relationship. I hated myself 2 years ago when I was fat and unattractive. I worked out hard in the gym. I pay real attention to what I eat. All I want is to look and feel attractive, to be accepted by others. Now, after I lost a lot of weight and look better, I still find myself being rejected.

Now, I’m running out of ideas on what should I do to be accepted.

 

 

 

Shadow

A shadow from the past has crept inside my room of thoughts.

It provokes my deep desires who’s rested stone cold in its hiatus of sorrow.

It blows my chime with a breeze of uncertainty, with wind that blows with short sharp tinkles.

With daunting questions lingering in the room of dark, I heed to the shadow, making distance as I go.

With arms stretched long, I reached to touch a mere emptiness of long lost hope.

The room is never bright as I never want the shadow to go away.

Waiting for the dark figure to unfold the secret of the past, I made my way to unravel the mystery of the future.

 

The Demon Inside

 

 

We all are destined to fight an eternal battle with our own dark side. It takes place in the realm where the scariest demons linger and attempt to destroy our pursuit of becoming a better person.

The demons are the manifestations of our phobias, past traumas, historical failure or every single memory that stings every time it’s triggered. Their fang pierces deep into our soul while their dirty fingers play with our thoughts.

The ones I face are not less ugly. I see my demon every time I look into the mirror. I can always hear it screams how ugly I look like and how I not even close to good. It’s the same demon that laughs joyously when I make mistakes and mock me when I fail to achieve something I hope and desire. Yes, the demon of perfection is indeed a persistent creature that follows my steps and refuses to stay behind.

Its brother, self-expectation, feeds from my disappointment and see the chances to strike when I keep my hopes high. Self-expectation allows me to enjoy a pseudo-happiness, takes me to euphoria, then slam me to the ground with its knee pressed hard against my chest. It lurks in my mind and dances triumphantly when I sink in depression.

We all fight our own battle in a daily basis. It’s not the matter of winning or losing. It’s about survival, keeping ourselves sane after going through every battle.

The So-called-Happiness

 

 

 

I just finished reading Coelho’s “the Witch of Portobello”.  I’m always amazed by Coelho’s pieces. His words are eloquently arranged that they always take me to different levels of understanding or stir the thoughts that I sometimes forgot I have.

The Witch of Portobello talks about several important things in life: definition of sanity (almost like his other piece, Veronika Decides to Die), changes in life, society and its construction, etc.

One thing that provoked me the most was the very concept of happiness. After I read about Athena’s/Sherine’s (the main protagonist in the book) way of finding her happiness and goal in life, I started to think about how people and how I search for happiness.

Everyone has their own definition of happiness. Most people find it more convenient to follow what the society or other people’s standard of happiness. Along the way, the society becomes more aggressive and they condemn those who stray from the value they have set forth: marriage, having children, good career, famous, etc. People who are born in this world are infected by those norms and eventually forget that it’s one’s own sovereign right and full control to define what makes him/her happy. The road to “happiness” may be full of thorny bushes and blaring thunders. But one may argue that happiness can be as simple as raindrops in the middle of the day, warm fire at during cold nights, gentle kiss, friendly hug, a smile, etc. So what makes your heart leaps and scream of joy? That’s where your start to finding happiness.

The Box

 

 

Singapore, Monday, April 6, 2009 at 2:46pm

I distinctly remember what Bree Hodge from Desperate Housewives said to Susan, her neighbor and her best friend when she’s dealing with emotional issues. What Bree usually do is picturing herself putting all of her emotional problems in a box then store the box in a cabinet. After she store them, Bree will act perfectly and elegantly, just like one of those Stepford Wives and pretend as if nothing happened. When she’s not too occupied with her daily activities and can manage to find a time, she’ll open the box and deal with those issues. She’ll open the box, sort the problems, remember them and deal with each and every one of them.

I tried to do that. And it worked. I put aside all of my personal feelings that made me undergo emotional roller coaster and I just buried myself under assignments, paper works, readings, etc. Everything to keep me me busy and stop thinking about my problems. During that hectic time, the emotion and problem didn’t stop bogging me, but my other responsibility kinda overwhelmed me and made the feeling subsided. Last Friday I just submitted my last paper for this semester. I’m free for at least two weeks until exam (well, I need to study, so actually not that free). After I click the “submit” tab, I felt relieved and I think it’s time to deal with emotional issues.

I’m not really sure if now is the right time to deal with those emotions because, well I’m still a bit haunted with the upcoming exam so not really in mood of dealing with personal issues. But I’ve been keeping the feeling for quite some time now, I need to deal with them before I go home. I have a spare time for now and whether it’s the right time or not, we’ll see.

As I opened the closet and start to uncover the box, I felt the rush of feelings. First it was a gentle breeze tickling my thoughts with the happy memories I had last December. Then the stream started to rumble… As I saw that person’s pictures, the messages that person sent to me and also the fact that the person hasn’t replied my message, I felt dead silence filling my room and my thoughts. Silence was filling my head and heart. I’m tired of hoping. I’m tired of telling to myself and my friends that I’ve moved on. I’m tired on waiting for that person to call me, text me, or whatever way to contact me. Tears didn’t fall as I’m contemplating through my thoughts. I just felt tormented, disappointed, ashamed, hurt deeply… All those joy I had, the tears I shed, the laughter that we had, the smile I saw on that person’s face, the decision I made, the farewell, the waiting, the chats, the anger, the insecurity, all the pain! They are all unbearable. Then I stopped. I just can’t do it.

After all this time, I thought two months were enough, but I’m wrong. Now I’m putting the box inside the cabinet again. I put it far at the behind. I will close the cabinet and walk away with scars all over my chest.