Restructure- on your own terms

The Night before the Pilgrimage

I haven't slept well in the last two nights.

In less than five hours, I am supposed to wake up to get ready for my flight to the place of spirituality.

I haven't finished writing “Ballatine” and most importantly, “How deep is your love?”.

The latter might never be written. It was about my thoughts and feelings for the Old Boy.

I have been insomniac of late because I know the pilgrimage would be an arduous path for me, spiritually and physically.

I have so much love for the Old Boy, so much angst. But guess I have been good. We haven't communicated since he bid me farewell via sms last Thursday and I replied back a standard thanks and have a safe trip message. Easy for him but painful for me in the weaning off process.

We know old habits are hard to break and there are more to come for cleansing. One part of me anticipate and hope for that relief of my earthly suffering called Dukka and another part of me find it too unbearable to let go. My heart continues to squeeze hard and I find myself having difficulty to sleep. To top it off, my muscles and nerves hadn't been well aligned and sore. I have been on intensive Chinese traditional medicine and physical therapy for the past three weeks. It's even hard to alter the habit of my sleeping position, let alone the errant heart that has a way of its own.

Bedtime has been a constant struggle with the devil. With the impending arrival of the big pilgrimage trip, my feelings and thoughts cling on tighter to the memory and attachment I have for the Big Boy. I haven't been too well at all but the least I could do and have control over is not making contact for now, I guess.

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Dearest Old Boy,

I love you so much. Typing this brings tears to my eyes.

I cannot say more. I love you with the bottom of my heart but it's been painful. So painful that I lost control big time in my life, my work and yes, my self-respect. But maybe I needed a shake-up since I am hardly a machine and I was just a pressure cooker waiting to explode. You know my story from way back, you know me. Maybe too well that you know what buttons to push to make me hurt real bad and that's how I crumbled.

I didn't know how we would end when we first started. I was having a good run for my feelings with you. But the futility of this relationship, I knew somethings got to give somehow someday... I thought non-exclusivity would work for both of us, given our situation and I could focus on putting our egos aside and loving each other for what we really are. But the relationship could barely stand any tests...

I hear that voice in my head for the past six months as I lay restless and sleepless in bed, that sad and helpless voice that could barely help herself to snap out of her predicament, reiterating, “I love you, I love you, I love you... will do anything for you...if you want me back again...”

You have never said you loved me, maybe cos you never did. I remembered you taunting me shortly after our break up that you never loved me. It was your pride. I always remember the words but not well enough to keep my pride away from you. Even your manipulation, I let you get away with, knowing full well the psychological tricks you play on me to gain an upper hand. Remember we used to hold the thieves' honour cos we were birds of feathers? But still, I let you because I never counted scores hard enough with you.

I was advised by those close around me to forget you and cut you off for good, as you know. Remember your bad habits, your polygamy and to have more self-respect from mixing with you when you are lacking in that and sold yourself low. I am down-valuing myself and ironically, on the first day we met remember Art Fart who shot her mouth at me and asked me what my value was?

But still I only choose to see the good side of you and the endless possibilities that you could have made for yourself. I love you so much that I want things to happen for you- that music cafe you always wanted and then the food business which I would want to be there for you in a heartbeat to make it into a reality... simply because I love you and because I know you well enough to understand you would need encouraging and egging along to follow through with confidence...

The so-called love you claimed you have received from the wife, the mistress, the namesake and the low lives... I never quite understand... what have they done to fight for their love by you and for you? I am not comparing but I never understood them... people who are fond of engaging in trivial, jealous lovers' tiffs and maybe the wife who never quite understand you, just like how you probably could have let your heart make that one important life decision of marriage for you instead of letting your head and coupled with that moment of weakness from your trip back to Brunei.. Losing that wedding band the week before the wedding was a bad omen, followed by replacing it with another, only to find the old one a year later. You have two wedding bands now, like the duality of your life now.Meaningful relationships as you know is what I treasure.... I thought I could give that to you and you to me since we were good friends first...

It's senseless rambling here cos my eyes are going puffy from crying and I should really consider sleep. Too much emotions and I am finding a loss of words to express them to you.

I gotta go and get myself well again.

This pilgrimage- I anticipate with fervour but also pain... if I get well, it means I have let you go. I cannot handle this thought for now. But if I don't get better, I don't know what else could heal and fix me...

The watch that you gave me is like you watching and timing me... how ironic- you always being there and a little hard to shake off even if I have any intention to (but unfortunately not) since I, too am your weekday morning habit. You have since eased into relying on me in cyberspace to fill up the void and meaninglessness of your work time...

Called me “an unwanted stalker” you did. Guess how I found out? Ironies of ironies! I didn't. It found me. That voice in my head pointed me at 1 a.m in the morning when I had absolutely no intention or interest to be a web detective (because I couldn't afford to fuck myself around anymore with my frail nerves) and voila, there it was. Still, I let you off cos I like to think that you have every right to your own creative outlet as I do with mine. But most importantly, I never bear grudges cos I love you.

I have said enough “I love yous"-it's beginning to sound blasé, like something I am fond of uttering carelessly so I would say no more.

Bye now- I do hate goodbyes cos' I hate finality. But I have a new journey to embark on... it's going to be an uphill struggle for me but I need to put myself back in the grind...

Didn't your bible says “What doesn't kills makes a man stronger”? I would like to think that although I was hanging on to my dear life as I fell from the tight rope, I am still surviving.

Guess, this is enough comfort for me that there is still room for some salvation. Us Buddhists believe in harnessing strength from within ourselves to build up our core so tomorrow, I will begin that self-healing journey...

But do pray for me- I will need strength. Guess that's the least you could do for me even if you never loved me...

That's not too much to ask from you, is there?