Knocking on my mind’s door

A thought came to me today. It knocked on my mind’s door politely and requested that I let it come in for it has something to tell me. Something which I may have known for a while now but have never let it bubble up to my conscious mind. “You like making her laugh,” it said to me humbly with its newsboy hat in its hands.

It was right. Whenever you laugh at my jokes or even chuckle at something I say unintentionally or do, it makes me smile. At that very moment, it was as though you have just knighted me with your smile and made me Sir of your royal realm – the person whom you have recognised for making your day, for lighting up your entire world, for making you genuinely happy.

I like being the one who makes you smile because it makes me happy. Because when you are happy, I am happy. Because you make me feel like the greatest, cleverest, wittiest person in the whole wide world and that is precious to me.

Unfortunately, I also have the tendency to make you weep. When I realise other people make you laugh too and you find them interesting and perhaps even more, I become insecure and I withdraw myself from stepping into your world further. This would hurt you terribly and yet I couldn’t stop myself, which in the end drove you away.

Now, in the months when we are apart, it still bothers me greatly that I wasn’t the only one making you laugh. I fear that you would grow to love them more than you loved me.

And so, this is something I am trying to change about myself. I tell myself that whatever you do is purely for your happiness, not to mock me and drive me to the land of crazies. It’s especially hard when we are no longer talking and my fear keeps gripping my mind and trying to objectify what has not come to pass.

But now I understand real love is selfless and free from fear. Love is not jealous and only when I give out real love, real love will return to me either from you or your equivalent.

God bless you wherever you are.


See no evil, hear no evil, feel no evil

I find myself unable to sleep well the last couple of days because I’m still too emotional over you. Wait, and there it is. A gigantic ‘L’ sign hurtling for my forehead at the speed of light in this very second.

It’s not like you are a stranger to this, especially since I haven’t stopped moaning about my broken heart from the beginning of Big Bang. And you know what? It takes a great deal of effort to compartmentalise these irrational feelings and invest my energy into work. So, whether you like it or not, I’m going to bring you for a ride through my mind.

Hold on to your undies. It’s going to be an awesome journey

If I can present my feelings in a line chart, the line will be shown fluctuating, going from perfectly understanding and calm, which is a nice steady median line, to a trembling nervous wreck, which is a scribbly downward spiralling line heading to the depths of Hell. Especially, this week where I can’t bring myself to look at you, read your posts or even hear you speak or type without turning into an agitated constipated person with epilepsy. Imagine that wonderful sight of me clenching my fists and shaking vigorously in my seat.

The weirdest thing is Logic knows it’s supposed to keep me sane. But obviously, someone forgot to send it the memo that Emotion is taking charge this week. And so I freaked out.

The wise told me the right thing to do is ignoring you and concentrate on my work. But the wise also knew it’s futile to argue with Emotion. Then the doorbell rang. Look who’s here! My Ego just brought more beer for the party, saying maybe you’re still affected and thinking of me and us. And yes, this is the moment many of you will laugh in my face for being a silly loser because all of you know very well we haven’t spoken or communicate in ages. So how can you possibly be upset or angry over me?

I wanted to get you honey so you can soothe your persistent cough which made you puke. Or even some lozenges. But history has shown, you will most probably reject me. Again. Considering that I’m still feeling guilty from the tortilla incident, I thought it best to stay clear. You know why?

Because whatever concern I show will either touch or repulse you and it’s clear you wouldn’t be easily touched by me in the current situation. Because you and your friends all think I am some crazy psycho bitch. So there’s no point in me putting a lot of thought in it even though it pains me to see you coughing non-stop. Because you wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Don’t do the elaborate thing cos honey means you’ve put more thought into it. But get her something that is easily available so it wouldn’t look like you put a lot of thought into it,” said N the wise. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“Let her come to you, instead of you asking, so it wouldn’t seem like you’re stalking her.”

Trouble is even though I suspect you no longer see a need in confiding in me, you are still my Achilles’ heel. At this point, it’s best if I just keep to myself.

When I’m no longer disturbed by your cruelty, you will cease to be cruel.