A conversation

I see you got married.

That’s right, I did.

You look happy.

I am.

You even wore a fucking pink dress.

What are you so angry about?

What am I so angry about? Really? You betrayed everything that we are, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?

Look, I don’t expect you to get it. And there isn’t a ‘we’ anymore. There hasn’t been for a while.

Of course, I forgot you stopped giving a shit about me.

It’s not that I don’t give a shit about you, it’s just we’re so different now.

I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.

Well, you’re probably right, you don’t know me.

I just can’t believe you would throw everything away. Everything I created.

Everything you created? What did you actually create? You are a master of destruction. I only started to create something after I walked away from you.

Hah, you’re still stubborn, at least that didn’t change. We had big plans. And you ruined it. You ruined everything.

Oh really? I ruined your big plan? What was that big plan again.. oh that’s right, you were going to hang around for someone who wasn’t yours, push everyone away, and keep looking for the next place and person. I don’t want that life.

But you did.

Not anymore.

You sound upset. Are you angry at me?

I guess I am.

Why?

For being so stupid.

And I’m angry at you.

Why?

For forgetting me.

I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you. You were a big part of my life.

Then how come we don’t talk anymore?

Because, I don’t want your influence.

And I didn’t want your influence, but that didn’t stop you, did it?

Things are better now. I love my life. Having you around would just ruin it for me.

You don’t get it do you?

What?

Your life is great now because of me. I dated the people that weren’t meant for you. I lived in cities that weren’t right for you. I took that shot and inhaled that smoke so that you don’t have to. Your life is a direct result of mine. And instead of thanking me for your life, all you do is ignore me and pretend I don’t exist. Guess what, I do exist. I’m there every time you look into the mirror. You can’t escape me.

I get it. You’re right, I owe you a thank you, and an apology. I’m sorry I’ve been pretending you never existed. Thank you for not loving your life, so that I could love mine.

Thank you, I appreciate you saying that. Look, I’m not here to bother you. I’m glad you’re happy, I really am. A part of me always wanted this for us.

I know.

Can I tell you something else?

Sure.

I always knew we’d look good in pink.

(A conversation with my past self)

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We Are Meant To Be, For the Weekend

I found this piece of writing about a past lover while digging through old files. Surprisingly, I’ve never shared it, so I’m sharing it now. I love the sentiment in which it’s written. Let me know what you think.

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I don’t ask who you were talking to on the phone. I don’t ask about the unopened gift box on the table – who is it for, or who is it from. I don’t ask you anything, except for the occasional ‘Are you hungry’ There’s really no point in asking, no point in knowing. What does it matter to me how you spend your time or who you spend it with? I am only here to keep you company, and I do exactly that – not more.

I lay in your arms, all curled up like a ball. You smile at me and say I look like a tiny kitten. You kiss my forehead and begin to tell me a story. This one is about a boy who goes out in search of his dreams. He has to go through many obstacles and follow the signs to get to his dreams. You tell me about ‘maktub’ and how it’s an Arabic saying for ‘it is written’. You explain that everything has been written and is meant to happen as it is. I wonder if you know what’s written for you and me, but I don’t ask, of course.

I love the sound of your voice, the way your accent makes everything sound sensual. How you casually drop French words into your conversation. You must know the effect it has on me. I especially love how your eyes light up when you tell stories. And how you paint such vivid pictures when you describe the people you knew and the places you visited. Even when you talk about your past lovers. You refer to them with immense affection and adoration. I can’t help but wonder if you would ever talk about me in such a way – even if we were never lovers.

You notice that I’m deep in thought, and ask if I’m tired of listening to your stories. I flash my best smile at you and reassure you I never get tired of your stories and that I love listening to you. You smile again and I suddenly have this urge to kiss you. I act on it, but only halfway, leaning towards you and planting a quick peck on your left cheeks.  You don’t ask me what I’m thinking about. Just like I never ask you.

I close my eyes and allow myself to relax, resting my head on your shoulders. Something builds up inside me and I am forced to blurt it out. ‘Will you miss me?, I ask. I know I shouldn’t ask, but sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Of course’, you say, planting a reassuring kiss on my forehead. I don’t know if it’s true, and it doesn’t matter. It’s what I want to hear, and I’m happy to hear it.

That’s how it is. You say things I want to hear, and I do the same to you. We don’t talk about feelings or unresolved matters. We don’t even acknowledge them. We live in our own bubble world where there’s no need for questions or answers. No plans, no promises, no expectations. No rules, no ifs, no buts. We just are. We exist only in this moment, and we don’t go anywhere near the ‘next’ moment. The future doesn’t exist as far as we’re concerned.

We spend most of the time cracking jokes and laughing at ourselves. We make fun of movies.  We make funny sounds and imitate people’s accents. We watch funny cat videos and South park re-runs. We talk about Greek mythology and Spanish bullfighting and World War Two. We go out to bars and try all the drinks on the menu. We sing out loud on the streets. We go for dinners, too, but never anywhere that has a dress code. We enjoy the mere pleasure of each other’s company, without giving a thought as to where it will lead to.

Sometimes I see loneliness in your eyes, and I’m sure you see sadness in mine. But we never talk about it. I cannot make you less lonely, and you cannot make me less sad. I never aspire to be what you want, and you can never be what I need. I will not give you my heart, nor will I take yours. So we just be. Without thinking. Without trying. Without discussion. Tomorrow the sun will come up and we both will go our separate ways.

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Of Fries and How To Be In The Relationship of Your Dreams (2 of 3)

Lesson #1 here

Lesson #2 Be in love with YOUR life

If you want to have any chance at being in the relationship of your dreams, you have to start by being in love with your life. If you feel your life is ‘crappy’, I can guarantee that even if the perfect man showed up in front of your door, it wouldn’t make any difference.

In the past I had always ‘tolerated’ life. I didn’t particular like a lot of things about my life, and I didn’t do much to change it. Instead, I expected the men I dated would come and ‘rescue’ me from life. If I can just find the man of my dreams, I thought, then my life will be happy.

Newsflash: It doesn’t work that way at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Last year, I decided it was time for me to create the kind of life that I love. I looked at every area of my life – career, health, hobbies, family, friendship, travel, relationships, etc and took responsibility for making each area fulfilling for me. One by one until I could finally wake up and say that I love my life.

It’s no coincidence that I found the man of my dreams in the process of creating the life I love. And the coolest thing is that for the first time, I didn’t want him to rescue me or listen to my complaints or sob story. He wasn’t my ‘escape’ from life. He was part of my life – a life that I love.

So before hunting down for the perfect man, take a look at your life and ask yourself: Am I in love with it? If the answer is no, then it’s time YOU start creating the kind of life you’d love. Once you’ve done that, the relationship of your dreams will be just around the corner.

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Of Fries And Forgiveness 

For those of you who’ve been following my blog, you may recall this post about the man I thought I was going to marry, who lied to me that he had cancer (and lied about everything else).

It’s been three years now, but I haven’t really been able to move past it.I have been through breakups before, and had gone through family troubles when I was young, but those incidents weren’t a match for the pain I felt when this happened. It was as if someone ripped my heart up into pieces. More than that, I was ashamed of how stupid I had been. That’s when I gave up.

Screw relationships, screw love, screw it all. Everything was a lie. There’s no happy ending waiting for me.

And with that thought, I locked the door to my heart and threw away the keys so that even I couldn’t get in. I figured there was no place for my heart in this loveless life.

I started dating men I saw no future with. Men who explored the curves of my body but never the corners of my mind.

I went through a series of unsatisfying relationships and made a hobby out of accumulating pain. I told myself I would never forgive this man for ruining my life. I was determined to hate him forever, and clung tightly onto the anger and resentment for the past three years.

A few months ago though, I came to the realisation that ‘hate’ was too big a burden to carry. It drained the life out of me, and something needed to change for me to live a fulfilled and happy life. I knew what the answer was, but I had been resisting all along: the only way I could free myself was to forgive him. But how could I, after everything he’s done?

I then learned that the definition of ‘forgive’ is ‘to give up the right to resent someone or the need to punish them’. Forgiving someone doesn’t mean you condone their behaviour, it simply means you stop resenting them and in doing so, set yourself free.

And that’s exactly what I did. I wrote this man a note to say I forgave him, and meant every word of it.

What happened afterwards was a sense of liberation like I’ve never experienced before. All this time I’ve been carrying around a heavy bag filled with anger and hatred, and now that I’ve thrown the bag away, it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted.

It’s not easy to forgive someone who’s hurt you, and definitely not easy to restore your faith in humanity. But that’s really the only way to heal your wounds and experience love and happiness. For the first time in my life, I can say I am genuinely happy. I wake up each day feeling grateful for being alive. I see love all around me, and I have faith that love is waiting for me 🙂

Reminds me of a song:

And if you’re in love, then you are the lucky one,
‘Cause most of us are bitter over someone.

I’d like to leave you with this last thought: let’s not fill our hearts with bitterness, no matter the circumstances. Life is too short and precious to give up on love.


 

08

Jan

Of Fries And Discovering Patterns

I was reading through my old diary entries recently, and realized two things:

ONE: I was such a DORK!!
TWO: Every single diary entry had something to do with boys. Like literally e-v-e-r-y one of them. I would blab on about my “crush” in each entry, and somehow managed to constantly find new boys to ‘crush’ on and write about.

I was 11 years old when I had my first crush. He was an American boy who came to visit for a while. When he went back to the US, I went through great lengths to get his address and sent him a love poem (which I composed), only to get back a ‘let’s be friends’ note. I was heartbroken, but I got over it pretty quickly when I met my second crush at the age of 12.

Crush #2 was the first guy who ever rang me. Back then we were still using home phones. We would arrange a time for him to call every day, and I would wait by the phone at that exact time. If someone else (like my grandma) happened to pick up the phone, he would hang up and keep calling again until I was the one who answered. I still remember my family discussing a ‘prank caller’ who kept calling at 6 pm. Oops.

We hardly got to meet because I was too young to go out on my own (according to my parents). After a short period, it became difficult to sustain a ‘relationship’ only through phone calls, and even more difficult for both of us to be free at the same time everyday. So things started to fade. Also possibly because I met my new crush.

From ages 13-15, I had a series of crushes. One of them had dimples. One was tall and played basketball. Another was someone I met in an online chat room. My diary entries were a roller coaster of emotions from “yay, he talked to me today!”, to “he hates me.. I want to die :(” I wrote poems about each one, wrote their names and drew hearts around, took candid photos of them and taped them to my diaries. You would think I was some kind of serial killer if you saw my diaries!

When I was 16, I finally had my first real date. I remember we went to the movies, and this guy who was 4 years older than me had “forgotten” his wallet. I paid for his ticket and mine. Halfway through the movie, he turned to kiss me. It was my first kiss and unlike what I saw in movies, there were no fireworks, no sparks, no butterflies, no nothing. It was just awkward and sloppy and unromantic. I remember feeling horrible as though my first kiss had been “stolen”.

That relationship only lasted for two months. We got together on Valentine’s Day, and broke up on April fools day 😀

After him, I met a guy who would become my first ever infatuation and obsession. We went on a few dates and spoke on the phone, but he wasn’t looking for something serious – which at that time I didn’t understand. I wasn’t (and still am not) good at taking ‘No’ for an answer, so I spent the next few years making it my “mission” to win him over. I bought him gifts, did chores for him (I went over to his shop and mopped the floor for him!), called him everyday, wrote him love letters. I was one desperate chick.

Until I met someone else at the age of 19. He was my first real boyfriend, and we were together until I was 24.

After we broke up, I had a couple of rebounds, and one of them became my second obsession. Let’s call him frenchie. Many of my blog posts are about him. Of Side Orders and Casual Relationships,  Of Unavailable Fries and Men, and  Of ‘Limited Time’ Fries And Men, to name a few.

When I turned 25, I decided I need to get over frenchie, and so I got myself into possibly the worst relationship of my life. I wrote about him in Of Fries and Trusing Your Instincts and Of Fries And Hope.

I wasn’t even 26 when I got back to my obsession with frenchie, and it became this on and off thing for about a year. During this time I also dated a few other men, since my thing with frenchie wasn’t exclusive.

Last year I was 27, and went through a series of short-term relationships. Some were more intense than others, but they all had one thing in common: they weren’t going anywhere. 

In my quest for ‘love’, I had gone from trying to find the man of my dreams, to thinking I had found him, to believing there was no such man and that I would be better off just having fun with men whom I saw no future with.

I turned 28 yesterday, and it dawned on me that I haven’t been free of men for nearly two decades!

I tried to think of a reason behind this.

Is it an act of rebellion? I grew up in a strict household and it was an unspoken rule from the day I was born that the guy you date is the guy you marry. It seems like I was rebelling, but then I was writing my first name with these guys’ last names, so I must have been thinking about marriage to some degree?

Is it a way to escape? I wasn’t happy with the way things were at home, and maybe being obsessed with these guys gave me something to ‘escape’ to / daydream about?

Is it low self esteem and constant need to be liked?

Maybe it’s all of the above and more, I don’t know. All I know is after having discovered this pattern in my life, I am more determined than ever to break the pattern.

I think now is a good time to focus on me and on doing all the things I want to do – without being worried about whether or not I have someone to ‘crush’ on.  That’s my resolution for 2015 and the years to come.

Another resolution is to cut down on my other obsession: fries.

You must be wondering what would become of this blog if I was cutting down on fries and men. Hah! I guess you’ll have to stay tuned to find out 🙂

What about you guys, what patterns have you discovered about yourself and your love life?

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11

Oct

Of Less Fries And Men

You wanna know something funny? Ever since I started this blog nearly 3 years ago, my life has been revolving around fries and men.

Why?

Well, because I figured now that I have a blog about fries and men, I need to immerse myself in those things so I can be true to my blog.

At certain times when fries and men didn’t feature much in my life, I would feel like I was doing something wrong. Like I was betraying my blog by not feeding it stories.

I moved to a new city recently though, and decided I want to change my life in a positive way. For starters, I wanted to focus more on me. I realized that by being in and out of flings and relationships, I hadn’t been able to truly focus on the single most important thing in my life – Me! I also decided I would start taking better care of my health and fitness.

In simple terms, I wanted my life to be less revolved around fries and men.

But what about my blog?

I shared this dilemma with a very good friend (also an amazing human being), and he said something really powerful:

“You’re a person with a blog, not a blog with a person”

He was completely right. Here I was, living as though my blog was my life, when the simple truth is that my blog is just what it is: a blog.

And with that realization, I’ve started my journey of living a balanced and healthy life which doesn’t revolve around fries and men.

I still allow myself to have fries from time to time – but it is no longer an addiction or something I crave for. And no, I didn’t become a hermit or a nun. I still go on dates and have my fair share of fun, but I no longer make men the center of my universe.

I am spending more time discovering myself and doing things I love. And you know what, I feel more empowered and happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

And I want to invite all of my readers to try it. Try making your life more about “YOU”, less about fries or men (or whatever else that your life has been revolving around). I promise you’ll see a positive difference 🙂

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