a series of Sundays

Sometimes, I think it's pretty nice to just take a step back and appreciate the little poetic coincidences that life throws our way. Other times, I think that 'coincidences' and 'things falling into place' are just a function of how we choose to see things. Either way, I've been pleasantly surprised by myself over the past couple of weeks. 

As March gave way to April, about the only things that were bothering me were work deadlines, travel plans, and the weekends being too short to accommodate all my plans. 

Then came a recent Sunday night which was spent with friends and board games. On the drive home, I'm grilling Will for more details on his new girlfriend. 

"While we're on the topic of exes, I have something to tell you," he says a little too quietly for comfort, like he's going to tell me something really important. (I swear the number of times his ex comes up when we talk is disturbing, even more so now that he's got a new girlfriend. But besides the point.) Knowing Will, I could almost tell that it was going to be about Voldermort (my ex = previously referred to by friends in conversation as Penny's [insert his stupidly common first name here] to avoid confusion with other friends with the same name = don't ever refer to him as that again, nor call him Penny's ex [insertstupidcommonfirstnamehere] = he who must not be named = Voldermort, get it?). 

Also true to Will's nature, there's plenty of dramatic "I-don't-know-how-to-break-this-to-you" body language and "I-hate-to-tell-you-but..." pauses. Which triggers a big black hole to open up in my stomach, creating that sinking feeling that even my racing heart was getting sucked into. 

"I saw him," Will finally says.

My mind is racing wild with thoughts. Saw him what? With that girl? Getting married? At the hospital waiting in front of a gynae's office? Winning a Nobel Peace Prize for his stupid work with big oil?

Strangely in my usually vivid imagination, I saw all these scenarios as words instead of actually picturing him.

"Uhh...and?"I asked in as controlled a manner as I possibly could.  

"That's it. I just saw him. Like he's back in KL," oh now suddenly Will is in 'matter-of-fact' mode. I wanted to bitch slap him so hard he flies out of the car. 

"That's it?!?!?! You just saw him?" I asked.

"Well yeah. I thought you said he's overseas or something. Well he's back."

Stupid moron. He's obviously been back, la, DUHHHHHH!!!!! He works here!

I filter that response down to a,"Oh, ceh, like that only is it? Meh.."

Image from: http://alltheragefaces.com/face/cat-meh-cat

Last Sunday, I arrive back from my trip home for Qing Ming. Grateful to be back in my quiet and baby-free place, I settle down for some down time in front of my laptop. In my mailbox, the first e-mail waiting for me is one of those stupid Birthday Reminders which I never bothered to unsubscribe to. For whose birthday next Sunday am I being prompted to send an e-card and possibly purchase a gift for online, you ask? 

Yep. Voldermort's. 

Hmmm...that's strange. What's this feeling I'm having? Could it be? Where's the black hole? The racing heart? Why am I not debating with myself whether or not to wish him on his birthday?

Could this really be me not giving a shit?

As it turns out, yes! I slept like a baby that night. And over the following days, I waited for that feeling of uncertainty, the internal debate on whether or not I should contact him and by what means, the thoughts on whether or not that would be the beginning of another cycle of us starting over and trying yet again. 

Pathetic, I know. But it's the kind of thing a younger, stupider and still in love with him me has done before in our past breakups.

Still nothing. 

A couple of days later, over dinner with S, she asks all of us to keep the weekend free. G is coming down, and we're all celebrating her birthday. 

Her birthday? Why, when is it? 

Sunday. 

Well how about that. 

One of life's little poetic coincidences noted.

Brutal...only if you make it so

Over the past couple of months, I've rediscovered that I'm surrounded by great friends who have been really supportive and am constantly occupied with enjoyable company. I had no idea what people mean when they talk about how being single can be disheartening, and even brutal at times.

Well when I, half asleep, replied yes to a colleague's text inviting me to hang out at some party the following evening, I had no idea that I would actually get a sampler of the kind of thing you only hear or read about.

I hadn't really read the text in detail. Did I want to hang out, it's a singles thing and it's at one of those swanky restaurants I'd read about quite a bit in magazines and was dying to try. So I said okay. I did ask what it was all about, but he gave me a pretty vague, and as it would turn out, rather inaccurate description of what the night would be like.

I fell asleep vaguely picturing the evening to be of a bunch of single people at the restaurant all gazing into a giant crystal ball & Turkish eye.

Image from Google Images.
The site this image was originally from: http://goo.gl/t8IU3

When the next evening came around, I found that I was almost spot on about how I pictured the restaurant to be. I'd just gotten the whole concept of the party wrong.
On our way there, I'd also discovered the reason my colleague was going - a girl he's interested in invited him. And one of her friends had canceled and they needed an extra girl. So that was my role for the evening - the solution my colleague was offering up in his role of knight in shining armor.
After the initial introductions, a little bit of small talk, it was obvious my colleague was making his move. So, I started looking for something to do while I make myself scarce. I've never really understood the concept of walking up to strangers, introducing myself, and then corner them into having a pointless conversation with me - which appeared to be the agenda for the evening.
Damn.
Everyone around looked like tigers on the prowl for prime prey, which I did not seem to be. So nobody was going to corner me into a conversation either, which would have only been marginally better.

So I occupied myself by walking around the lounge, soaking in the place that I'd so wanted to check out in the first place.

Soon, the organiser clinks a glass to get everyone's attention, and proceeds to announce the mechanics for the evening. Which elicits a huge, but whispered "WTF" from me, aimed at the colleague who'd invited me. He'd failed to mention that it was a bloody speed-dating thing of sorts. No wonder everyone there looked like they were on a mission, and a person such as myself was not being given the time of day (I hadn't even gone home to dress up for the evening - was still in my usual work wear). My colleague's pesudo-sheepish and not at all apologetic "Hehe..yeah I left that bit out," just pissed me off even more.

Going in with a strategy
"Penny, Penny, Penny...So... this is our pick-up line for tonight, ok? 'Do you like chocolate or vanilla ice cream?'" my dumbass colleague had said to me shortly after we'd arrived.
In my mind, I wondered if this moron was for real, and whether people were really that lame, ever.
But clearly, I was the odd one out here. Once we were all introduced to the mechanics of the event, we ladies were asked to take our seats. I'd quite reluctantly joined the pack, and picked the last seat in the corner, with the easiest escape route.
Well, I don't know if it was the out-of-the-way seat I'd picked, but round 1 did not get off to a good start for me. I was the last girl to have the seat across from her still empty. Two other girls were sat next to me on the couch, the two guys sitting across from them could just have easily sat across from me, since they were going to have to sit across from every single girl at some point of the evening anyway.
But nope...for this evening, I was the equivalent to being the kid who gets picked last to be on the team.

Jackasses 1:Penny 0

Needless to say, I wasn't going through the entire thing with finding a date on my mind. For each 90 second round, I found myself gazing back at these guys, trying hard not to reduce the nice ones to ash with my naturally mean stare, entertaining myself by attempting to read their body language (inspired by the "Lie to Me" marathon I'd incidentally had the night before), and sometimes feeling a stab of annoyance when I catch the guy sitting across from me obviously evaluating if I were worth his time and effort. When did finding love turn into shopping for it? When did people stop believing in things like fate, serendipity and actually falling in love?
It all seemed like a very strange paradox - a room full of people who carried themselves as if they were cavalier about love, hoping to find love at first sight, but felt that they had to organize and event as such to meet the person they'd fall in love at first sight with, rather than leaving it to a chance encounter.

Making up an excuse versus being genuine
Finally! We're at the last round, and it's a guy I'd noticed at the beginning of the evening - he seemed like a nice guy one could have a decent conversation with, without being evaluated like livestock at the county fair. And initially, he did seem nice. That is, until the bit about where he worked came up - it was one of those super huge companies that perpetually appear on the Top Graduate Employers lists, and is on the top of pretty much everyone's apply to list upon graduation. All I said was "Oh yeah, I think I've got a friend from uni working there, too!", and the next thing I know, he cuts the conversation short with a really curt, "Yeah everyone always has a friend of a friend who works there."

WTF was that?

I run into him again a little later coming out of the restrooms. He seems a little apologetic about being less than nice earlier, and strikes up a conversation with me. But the moment we get back to the bar, he tells me he's leaving, like immediately once he gets the friend he came with.
So off I go to my waiting beer and join in on another conversation. A couple of minutes later, I glance back at the bar, only to find Top Graduate Employer guy chatting up another girl, who wasn't the friend he came with.
Again, WTF was that?
I think a simple "excuse me" would have sufficed, instead of the whole "I need to go right now" thing.

Jackasses 2:Penny 0

Yo, bro!

Skipping ahead to the end of the evening, when I have to follow along, as the awkward lamp post while my colleague walks the girl he was into in the first place, and her friend, down to the entrance to wait for the valet to bring their cars round. Somehow along the way this random guy from the party that we'd been talking to while waiting for the girls also decided to leave together with us. 

I still don't understand the whole idea of...I don't know..whatever my colleague was trying to pull. He asks the girl he's into to drop us back to his car which was parked further down the road. Somehow Random Guy comes along, too - he's parked near us.

We reach his car first, and when he gets out of the car, I give a small wave and a "Bye", but for some reason, he leans back in and sticks his hand out. A handshake? Really? Oh okay...I tentatively reach out my hand, too. 

But no, it wasn't even a regular handshake. 

He grips my hand in the kind of way you would when you're about to arm wrestle...or possibly punctuate with a "Hey, bro!" followed by either a manly hug or a fist bump. 

WHAT?!?!?!?!

Jackasses 3 for 3:Penny still 0

In the words of one of my male besties who has never fist bumped me in the decade that we've been friends, "Why the heck do people even put themselves through things like this?"

BTW, no disrespect to anyone out there who has, in fact, found love this way, or hopes they will. My observations here are purely based on that one evening being recounted, and the particular people I encountered there. 

Grouchy on a Friday night

It's been about two months since I started my little rebound trip, and on some fronts, I can't believe it's already been two months! And the scary thought occurs to me that I really need to get moving on the romance front. (How people bound seamlessly from one relationship to the next seriously befuddles me.) On the other hand, I'm already beginning to tire of having to dress up, go out, be nice to people, and actually make an effort. I miss brunch and weekends of not having to leave the house to find good company.
My last weekend out felt like the epitome of everything I hated about being single and being forced to mingle by well-meaning friends and my occasional irrational fear of having a yawning chasm of a weekend with nothing planned.

Being okay with all the aimless crap hanging out with a big group entails
I guess one of the hazards of growing up on an island is that your social circle is a minefield of guys who go everywhere in shorts and flip flops.
S invited me along to hang our with a couple of friends who were coming to visit, and we were going to Marini's. Great! It was rare that we had where we were going planned out a day in advance, and since I've yet to go there, I was kind of hoping right now I'd be writing one of my food/drink posts about the place right now.
We get there, wait around for S and the friends visiting to arrive, only to find one of them in, you guessed it, shorts and flip flops. Really I swear I often wonder, what the hell is wrong with people? It took quite a bit of self control to not turn around and snap at him when he was defending his choice of attire to Kenny with a, "What? You guys look like you're dressed for prom or something." We weren't.
We'd walked almost all the way across the park at someone's suggestion of a nearby place, only to realise there was a dress code there too, so back across the park we walked to get back to the cars and head off somewhere else.

When random strangers try to chat you up
I'm supposed to be pleased with myself that people want to talk to me, right? Well, I often find myself undecided between feeling like Little Red Riding Hood being approached by the wolf, and some other kind of unsettled feeling about the whole paradigm of being chatted up and asked for my number that would take another post entirely to describe.

Being the single girl when another friend of a friend joins us somewhere along the evening
Somewhere along the way, there's almost always a friend someone runs into, or was called to join us or something like that. Tonight it was the latter, another friend of our visiting friends. I'd first been content to just quietly sip my drink and zone out watching tennis. Michael, as the newcomer introduces himself to the table, ignores me at first. Chunky, my biggest "go get back out there" cheerleader, looks at me meaningfully. That evening, he was trying to make me talk to new people. I wasn't in the mood. Somewhere later that night, when S was passing me my scarf that I'd carelessly left somewhere. Michael, who at that point had been dancing, for some strange reason intercepts and dances around with my scarf, wraps it around his neck and does some kind of "I'm fabulous" flip with it. That was incredibly disturbing in itself. Things only got worse when he asked me to dance, and then even further downhill as we all left the bar for supper.
As we walked, I unfortunately got stuck with him - to my chagrin, he'd finally figured out I was the single girl in the pack.
"Are you ok? Are you drunk?," he asks me two or three times. I was walking a perfectly straight line in my heels while he struggled along next to me. I didn't want to be mean, so the first couple of times, I quietly said I was fine, and asked if he was. On and on he went about how he'd already been drinking before he came to join us because he was entertaining some major client and he's creative director of his own company blah blah blah... And after the whole "why I'm awesome in 1 minute" speech which I'm sure he gave really often, he asked me again if I was drunk.
"Look buddy, I think I'm in better shape than you," I growl at him, and finally, he scampers off and launches into a repeat that same speech to Kenny.

One month of my new life

Over the past couple of weeks, a new pastime has helped me ignore my problems a little bit: board games. Again, the running theme of the past month has been that friends I've neglected while in my relationship have all gladly stepped up to help get me out of my rut. Which also meant that I've finally started going to the board game cafe that they've all been raving about for ages.

If you're wondering what the hell was stopping me from doing so while I was still in my relationship in the first place, you're spot on. Therein was the problem - in retrospect, it's hard to recall the last time he was happy to spend the weekend with my friends, or trying anything fun/new with me. 

Now my weekly visits to the board game place feature prominently on my Timeline photos, and I can't decide if I should be happy that I'm finally doing fun stuff with friends, or if I should feel lousy for being dumped and thus, being forced to trade my Friday night cuddles and Saturday morning brunch for this.

Saturday night which turned into Sunday morning saw me celebrating the fact that I've survived my first month of my new single life in a fairly clichéd manner. A couple of drinks, lots of loud music & dancing. Again, feeling rather conflicted about myself, I wondered if I should be enjoying the attention of the guys who were trying to dance with me, or if I should mourn the loss of having someone I knew I was going home safely with.
The one and last time I took him to a party, he played the role of the very steady guy who didn't seem to get tipsy no matter how much he drank. Which was nice. But an incident earlier that night made it very clear he never wanted to be seen giving me a kiss that could be defined as anything more than a peck in public, even if the public surrounding us was probably too drunk or too into their own thing to give a crap about what we were doing. 
So I guess feel good about myself, it is. 


After barely just sleeping it off, it was off to another night of beers and good music. But once again, it felt awkward to be without someone. While the rational side of me knows I would have been condemned to another quiet night alone after a boring day of bumming around with him had things been different, I still missed that feeling of companionship when I knew who my plus one would be for anything.

But Joachim Garraud's set definitely had me forgetting my problems for awhile.

That was, until later that evening, when I realised who was on stage with Redfoo.

In my mind, I was already going, "Ooh, this is awesome! I should take a picture and Whatsapp this to..." Wait a minute. We broke up. 

But of course he'd been the one who'd first introduced me to Quest Crew's awesome work years ago. Damn, why did I have to go there?

Away from home, again

Tip for the day: You're kidding yourself if you think you're completely above the feeling of "I can't go here, here and here because we used to go to these places a lot and there are just too many memories". The only thing you can control is how much you'll let those emotions control your new (and better) life. 

The one most surprising thing I experienced in the past couple of weeks is how not lonely I felt. In fact, I felt less lonely than I have been in the past couple of months.

It was encouraging to find so many friends step up from the sidelines to make sure I never felt alone. And it felt so surprisingly good to know that nobody needed to be asked; nothing needed to be said beyond, "We broke up." It felt good to know that there were people in this world who genuinely cared about me, and whose actions remind me that I'd been working way too hard to receive whatever little love I'd gotten from the one I'd thought was my best friend and partner for life.

Feels like family
I'd also been dreading coming back to work. The thought of being away from the safety net of family and friends that had softened the blow of the past couple of weeks was terrifying.
On my drive back, I'd decided that I wouldn't make a big deal out of it and not go crying to my close friends from the office.

That lasted until after lunch. 

I hadn't planned on how I'd answer questions like,"How was your holiday? Did you drive back with your boyfriend?"

Shit. For a moment, I was stymied, considering how I'd answer this. 

Oh, what the hell. Be completely honest about it, I guess.

So I answered that colleague's question. Mercifully, after assuring me that she would be there if I needed to talk, she must've informed the rest not to ask me about my trip back, or at least what role my boyfriend played in it. By Saturday, at yet another colleague's wedding, which was beautiful, tasteful, and had pastors' speeches that made me sure my relationship hadn't had what it takes to turn into a marriage, I was again mercifully spared from any "So when's your turn?" questions.

Over a cup of coffee and some buns, another colleague talked me into finally feeling better about myself and condemning him to the cold barren place that all lousy/cowardly/testicle-less ex-boyfriends go to metaphorically die.

So, I guess I'm not so alone here after all.

Dealing with it - with some help

Tip for the day: Don't wear eye makeup for the first few days following a breakup. It helps if you happen to be on leave from work and therefore, don't need to look and behave your best.

Despite the fact that I'm still hurting, feeling the sadness and the anger at things not working out, I'm feeling more and more certain that things will be fine and that there's no looking back.

For today, I'm experiencing the anger stage of grief. Anger at the fact that he wasn't the right person, anger at the fact that he wasn't the person I thought he was (hence all the fights that went something like "Why can't you do/say/think this, this and this?"), anger at the fact that I wasn't the right person for him (Hello, I'm like the most awesome person in the universe, how can I not be the sun, moon and stars to you? I didn't actually say that - but that's the kind of indignation that has been flaring up off and on today.)

It helps a lot to have friends or family around to listen to you rant, offer words of support, and distract you from your troubles.
Some hot chocolate lava cake helps, too.
When I'd finished cake and drinks with Gina, I'd only used half the small stack of napkins the waiter had so kindly left at our table when they brought the cakes - I was already teary shortly after we sat down. And by the time we were heading back to the car, it actually felt good to be 'back', with my ever faithful bestie assuring me that an ex-schoolmate was definitely chatting me up at the reunion last weekend when he kept asking me to tell him about this award I'd won but nobody outside my field of work (i.e. nobody around me that evening) gives a crap about.

It also helps that even the friends who are too busy to come spend the afternoon watching u cry keep your itchy texting thumbs busy - which also means his face (which still has that loving look that you'll never see from him again) no longer stares at you from the top of your Whatsapp chat list.

Here's to more adventures as a single woman.

The Realisation and the Pain

So here I am, another walking cliche. Another one in the many, another data point in the statistics.
Just another girl, experiencing the almost inevitable loss of her first love.

Why the heck am I writing about this? (More as a reminder to myself as I continue writing.)
Well, people write songs (and make loads of money while they're at it) to get over breakups.

I had a colleague who told me she repainterd her room for each major breakup she ever had. The walls of her room has, thus, changed colour 3 times.

This is the first time I'm going through one that was actually worth any pain and I'm still looking for my thing, which I hope I won't have to do too many times. So for now, I write. In hopes that I feel better, perhaps make someone else feel better, or at least entertained, in the process, too.

So as I work out the feelings, I'm gonna throw out a crap load of breakup cliches. So get ready.

Firstly, it seems like this breakup has been coming for awhile now. It's just taken me a long time to realise it, and a little while after that to accept it. I'd tell you that it's for the best and that time will heal this pain and all that crap. But the truth is, I just feel despair. How does one not despair when the man that was once a boy, who had been the object of my high school daydreams, my partner in our youthful mischief and then all the growing up that we've done in most of the past decade, my lover and friend, simply isn't in love with me anymore and vice versa? How does one not despair when you know you're looking into the eyes of someone you thought you would wake up next to every day for the rest of your life, and realise that it's not going to happen?

Let's get a little more out-there here and say this song is being played A LOT on local radio in the weeks leading up to this breakup, and it's been hard not to cry every time I heard it. Call it a sign, call it whatever you want - it just felt like I was constantly being reminded that things were ending, and it would be inevitable. 

And here's one last emo video that a close friend shared with me, and I, thankfully saw before I had that conversation. Can't say it fixed anything. And made it even more painful to think that the most important person in my life for such a long time would someday be a casual acquaintance. But there's some strange comfort in knowing that this is, to a certain extent, normal.