Reminders...

The other day, before I realised it, a phrase we used to use together (or rather, he taught me: 'schlime schlime') came to mind unbidden as I started coughing. Just like that, the good memories of him, of us when we were happy together flooded back like a sudden strong wave created in an uneventful sea by a passing cargo ship. The way we were initially, so comfortable in each other's presence, how we laughed off usually embarrassing bodily functions (farts, burps, unchichi) and talked about everything under the sun.

We went through an initial difficult start and pulled through only because he was so much stronger than me emotionally, mentally. (I was already back then stupid and difficult). I didn't tear (as I am now while writing this post since writing things down makes the brain concentrate more on the memories). I thought to myself that day, as I reminisced, that there's a bit less sadness, a bit less guilt and remorse of how I almost single-handedly destroyed the closest relationship I've ever had and more of a knowledge that I cannot change what I've done and a reflection of how I will try my best to never make the same mistakes again if I ever have another relationship. Maybe slowly, very slowly, time is finally doing its job at suturing the wounds that I have foolishly self-inflicted.

Sometime before this day, I made another mistake while chatting with him over FaceTime and through that mistake I learnt that a part of me was subconsciously waiting, and hoping for a chance to try again although I have been consciously telling myself that it will never happen. Love lost is lost forever, as is trust. I cried my eyes out that night. If I can imagine how a knife through the heart feels, that would be it, for the nth time over the past 3 years since we broke up. I never thought I would be hung up on a relationship. I have always prided myself as being more rational than that. So when I realised that after 3 years, I am still not over it, I felt absolutely useless. The first solution that occurred to me was that I should cut off all contact at least for a while. But that made me even sadder. I remember thinking about the song 'Someone like you' by Adele. It is somewhat comforting, though in truth, I don't think I will ever find someone like him, ever. I pray that as the healing time passes, I will be able to stay in contact with him as a good friend, accept hearing (I think will happen someday soon) that he has found his true love and wish them all the happiness in this world.

The recharge I got through the recent work trip/short holiday in New Zealand and back home in the month of September has apparently disappeared into thin air as soon as I got back here. I miss home. I don't really recognise this person with zero motivation for anything in life staring back at me. All I feel like doing is to hide under the covers in bed. As I drag my feet to get through each and every identical, seemingly endless day, the thought of my bed is the only thing that gets me through the end of each day because at least when I get to close my eyes and fall into my usual deep slumber, my brain will finally stop thinking and feeling.