Sunday, August 29, 2010

You Complete Me?

Intermittent pauses between completing PowerPoint slides for a work presentation, writing articles which were long overdue, sipping on really strong coffee and a large sugarless ice tea, there we were, 2 girls, sitting in a crowded coffee place, complaining about the heat, checking out cute boys and back to complaining about the heat.

After a few exchanges of commentaries and analyzing why the heat was so in palpable, the conversation took on a different turn.  From weather commentaries to commentaries on boys to figuring out one of many life’s mysteries - a sense of belonging. And it suddenly poured outside, from where we were seated, we could see the drops of rain. No wonder it was so hot.

My coffee partner, who shall be known as BlackCoffee henceforth, because she likes her coffee bitter and black, is living a life that is still, as she described it, pending. I can’t really describe things in detail as its her story, and writing about it would be like violating copyright protection rules. Her life story is copyright protected.
Ok, now I’m beginning to wonder how I am supposed to continue with the story.

Contemplating divorce, the question that arose was, “am I doing right thing?”. I was taken aback, kind of heavy stuff for a rainy Sunday evening. I looked at her, honestly not knowing what to say. No, that’s not exactly the truth, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, with complimentary  facial expressions thrown in, considering my strong aversion to the husband for the things that he did to BlackCoffee and the kids.  But who am I to judge? I can only say what I think is right, but push comes to shove, it is her life, her marriage, her call.

What lingered on my mind was what she said later as she looked hard at me and expressed what she felt inside “I like the feeling of being complete. That my life is whole. The husband, wife and the kids.”

I get what she was saying. I think I do.

But I can’t help but wonder, does that make me incomplete? Single and all. Is that how many married couples out there sees a single girl out and about, as an incomplete entity in society?

I remember reading a comment on Facebook. A friend congratulated a newly married friend-congratulations! Welcome to the real world. Err, I seriously thought that I am living in the real world as it is. 

Maybe it is one of those cases of  " I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant" I perhaps may have interpreted it the way it was not supposed to be understood. Maybe, perhaps.

But it does hurt sometimes, to have people say that life is not complete without a husband and kids, that I have not been living in the real world, that my life is much simpler being single, that my problems, my issues are meaningless and insignificant. It hurts to hear comments from married friends when they un-tactfully say " oh I don't know what I have been doing all this while, running around town, pretending that all is fabulous, being single when in actual fact life was so meaningless. You should get married already". If it was that simple, I would have. Trust me.

That is just not fair. But then again, sometimes they say that life is not fair. Maybe I’m on the wrong side of the balancing scale. Maybe I have to hop on to that ‘In a relationship’ bandwagon stat if I want to know what real life is.

Now, what is that dating site I once wrote about? I better hurry and register myself. ;)

Romantic fool that I am, I don't  support the notion that 'you-complete me'. I'm much more inclined to believe that ‘I-complete-me’ while ‘you’ complements the perfection.

p/s: Cinta at the moment this entry is written is ok with being single. Marriage is an ever-after affair, a lot of thought should be put into it. Singles have the right to be choosy. We learn from the mistakes of our married friends who are living in the real world.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Predictably Unpredictable

An old friend called me yesterday. We’ve known each other since we were sixteen. I can't remember how we became friends exactlt as we went to different schools. Me in one of those schools where my seniors would blow up toilets just for the fun of it and being chased by one of the teachers in the midst of cutting school is a norm. He, on the other hand, went to one of those preppy institutions, where they wore preppy white shirts with preppy white trousers and preppy black shiny shoes. A preppy boy in a preppy school, with predictable flying colors exam results with of course a predictable future in the line engineering. Everything about him is predictably predictable.  But his preppiness and my gangsta-paradise of a school background did not stop us from being friends.

So yes, he called yesterday. Which was alse predictable. Only the conversation was not so predictable which caught me off-guard.

Preppy boy : Have you updated your blog?

Cinta : No, not yet. I don’t know what to write about.

Preppy boy : It has been a while right?

Cinta : Errr....yes

Preppy boy : You should just announce its death. Shut it down.

Cinta is rendered speechless on the unpredictibility of his line of thought.   

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Un ía a la vez.

When I first started Single in KL, I was optimistic, and positive.

I wanted to stay positive because I wanted my life to be filled with all the good things in life. Good vibes attract good things and good people. I believed in that. Whole heartedly. I saw the good in the bad and though everything wasn’t peaches and creams with cherries on top, I urged myself to see things as colorful as they can be.

But that was then, many moons ago.

I have been in denial for the longest time. Telling myself that whatever is happening will eventually fade away. If only I could figure out the ‘whatever-is-happening’ part. I’m still confused and I am still trying to figure out this empty feeling inside myself.

No, I am not referring to my non-existent dating life at the moment. I admit, it gets kind if lonely sometimes. Not, not sometimes, most of the times. Especially on cold rainy evenings such as today. *sigh* I don’t know…But I do know it is not because of the lack of dates.  No, not that.

There are so many things that I wish I could say here, to let the words flow onto the monitor but I can’t. I always believe that whatever is said or written, whether intentionally or unintentionally, could or would hurt people. Family and friends. I don’t want to do that. I don’t believe in that. I’m more traditional and I believe that I have a certain responsibility to the things that I post here.

Hence the lack of posts the past few months. I can’t think of anything nice to write about.

More often than not, I find myself laughing less and frowning more and even the wrinkle lines have even started to show.  I’ve been seeing less of my friends and family and when I do, even my own laughter sounds hollow to my own ears.

Life is so predictable at the moment. Work, home, the occasional dinner and work again the next morning with the occasional travel thrown in between. I am thankful for that. To be allowed to see the beauty of life, of nature and of people from all over but something is missing. 

I don’t know…I don’t know…I don’t know…

I don’t even know where this post if headed. Maybe if I am honest to myself, and admit that life isn’t a colorful rainbow right now, maybe I can move on and figure out what went wrong.

Tell me that it is human to be feeling what I’m feeling right now.

In the meantime, have a meaningful Ramadhan. Maybe I get to see the little girl with the strawberries sewn on her telekung again this year during terawikh. Maybe this year she’ll have flowers instead. Maybe.

un día a la vez.

One day at a time.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The Life that I Have

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause

For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

British Playwright Leo Marks