I was fine — he wasn’t.

People have always said, long distance relationships don’t work.

I’ve always been told that too — and fair enough, you could say mine didn’t work, since it’s over.

But I choose to believe that I was fine throughout it — you were the one who couldn’t handle it, I guess.

Was I more mature? I like to think so, thanks to my circumstances that forced me to grow up and see life and people in different ways from you.

I was always the one who was able to effectively keep myself busy during the six-month stretches you spent away. I had many groups of friends to meet, activities and ministry I was involved with. I kept my life busy and fulfilling, while still talking to you during the common hours we had awake.

I suppose our communication decreased as time passed, though — I can’t deny that. We both stopped working as hard to commit to time to talk after two years. And I eventually learned, after you dumped me two months after you returned for good, that you were contemplating ending things from a day before you left for your final year of school.

Why did I know nothing about this? I can only say it would have been the breakdown in our communication. I could also blame you for being immature, insecure and selfishly self-centred. I could say you were trying to get my attention by chatting up other girls and announcing your “victory” stories to your housemates like they were trophies — except I didn’t hear about them from you.

Should I have suspected something was wrong? I suppose I told myself as time passed, we got comfortable and used to each other, and I told myself our lack of communication was inconsequential — I trusted you, and you trusted me right? We would talk to each other if we needed to, about anything at all.

Later on — after it was too late — you would try to tell me that I made you feel small for getting influenced by your atheist friends. For urging you to open your heart. Okay.

Yet, perhaps I’m not seeing this fairly. Who knows how I would have been if I were the one who spent all that time away? For all we know, I may have responded in the same way as you. Perhaps I would have been the one who missed you so much (or maybe none of this happened because of that) that I ended up seeking solace in other girls alcohol, getting wasted as if it’s cool and staggering home to end up on my knees at the toilet bowl.

Fair enough, NS gives the fairer sex a two-year head start on life and on growing up. It’s true I got to start working earlier, and it’s true you would have been at least two (it ended up being three) years before getting to start work proper.

But we were together almost six years. Was I unreasonable to expect us to at the very least start talking about our future?

I didn’t even put a deadline to it. I didn’t even say, we must get married by this date. 

All I asked was where this is going. To begin the conversation.

And for that, I was branded as overbearing. And you had to warn my current boyfriend about me.


But hey, you know what? You were right after all. Look at me now, pressuring him to get a job, to take steps to settle down — to the point where it’s gotten us into fights and moments where we drew our entire relationship into question.


Honestly, is it me? Am I simply holding the people I get together with to too-high standards to settle down?

Or perhaps I need to be asking the other, far scarier question — should I not be getting married in the first place? Is my life destined for something else?

might as well

We might as well call it a break up.
I cannot imagine why you have not seen this coming. You cannot comprehend why I would make such a hasty decision. I think that tells a lot about how far we’ve drifted; the grounds we are standing on offer vastly different perspectives.
You texted, “if that’s what you want, i respect ur decision.”
I think my heart skipped two beats. My mouth went dry. With all the courage I could muster within me, my best reply was,
“I’m sorry.”
What I really meant to say was we had once been dreamers, wanderers, together. But in our wandering we’ve found ourselves so far apart, how can you not tell?
You didn’t reply. Is it a break up? We might as well call it so.

the I-didn’t-know week

I remember you say: “Let me think about it”.

You did not.

For you, it was clear. You were ending it.

But I remembered you said: “Let me think about it”.

So I spent a week calling you, waiting for you to call, drinking in pubs alone or with my laptop, waiting for you to call.

When you finally called. You told me that you did, in actual fact, end it. A week ago.

I cried. But somehow felt a weight lifted off me.

Freedom to fly

“But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but
make not a bond of love:
let it rather be a moving sea
the shores of your souls.”

~ Khalil Gibran

Leftovers are yummy

We were introduced, a friend thought I needed a change from the bad boys I was dating. Most friends thought I was over-correcting (a la HIMYM).

I was sure you were a positive influence, a homebody, well-mannered, well-read, extremely intelligent. In some ways you were a positive influence.

Yet I should have left you when you first castigated me for missing my flight, leaving me crying in a strange airport with nary a friend. When you refused to visit me for fear of catching my flu, when I caught it from visiting you when you were sick. When you quarreled with me and made me feel small about my weight. When you said you weren’t sure if you wanted to get married ever.

I regret the 2 years I spent with you, we were bad for each other and I wished I saw it earlier. I wish you peace and love with someone who suits you better. I also wish that that someone is fat because love shouldn’t be superficial.

The Moment I Let Myself

This is perhaps not the typical break up story, probably because we were never together.

We were great friends though, and still are. I knew that if I let myself love you, I could. And for a moment in time, I did.

But our friendship was too precious to me to take that chance. I knew if I decided to change the terms, to want more, you never will, because I’m not your type of girl, and you probably never thought of me in that way ever.

I always told myself that we were just really good friends with a unique relationship and things would never change. But things changed the moment I let myself love you.

Perhaps I should never have, and saved myself this pain and sadness. But I finally knew what it felt like to love someone.

We are still friends, but then, we always will be. That, and nothing more.

waking up

We were good for each other, in every sense of the word. He loved me, and me, him.
But maybe we were too good for each other, equally good at being stubborn.
So when he refused to accept my God and I refused to accept him without God, it was the end.
I still wake up dreaming that we fell asleep together and that he is right next to me.
But we no longer talk anymore.