Life is an eternal journey of blessings.
I thank God for blessing me with opportunities to live a comfortable life, for giving me a freelance job that I love, for realising my passion.
For my mother, who is very slowly relaxing her iron grip on me. Someday, just someday, I will be able to sit down and talk to her about my problems - everything. My mum had not forced me into Science as much as she believed it was the road to be.
For a reunion with those dear to my heart, to appreciate the values of what I have grown up with again.
For my wonderful friends. For them to talk sense to me, to comfort me, to laugh with me.
For discovering love. I have been sneaking and tiptoeing around the idea of "love", jumping in and out of relationships to find out the meaning of love, and whether I can love. Cynical as always, I have always believed there was no such thing as "love", only a combination of every other thing combined. I have people telling me that I have feared to embrace love, and I realise at this moment, they have been right all these while.
Love is not love till you feel it. Not that I am exactly the right person to preach about this subject, but the past 8 years (probably) I have not allowed myself to feel it. Perhaps it is so much easier to guard my heart against the pain, just flirting with the idea of "love" but not baring my naked self to it. But "love" is such an elusive thing that I am (as I am writing now) at a loss for words to describe it.
I emerge from relationships scarred, but always not hurt enough to continue looking for companionship. How is it that I always advocate independence, yet fear loneliness? Under the vivacious facade of "independence" and "nonchalance", I have successfully managed to appear strong and un-needy. Believe me, beneath that facade is a pathetic, whiny self who - like most real-life stories seem to talk about - thinks too much, reads too much into her boy's actions, words and all, becomes overcome with worry, jealousy and everything else. No, of course, I was exaggerating a little.
Yes but that side of us is inevitable in every human being. It is all about - as Miranda pointed out - perception and understanding our dear ones and putting ourselves in their shoes. It is about controlling our inner demons, chasing those fleeting thoughts away. Putting aside these mindless obsessions erases the pain that has been building up, and in turn lets a little love in. Too many years, I have been afraid to feel love. Till now, "love" is still as baffling as ever, and no one is sure of "love" till it is right in front of their face.
Too many questions, too many (nonsensical) answers. I think I will just have to keep trusting my heart, and those I believe in.
I thank God for blessing me with opportunities to live a comfortable life, for giving me a freelance job that I love, for realising my passion.
For my mother, who is very slowly relaxing her iron grip on me. Someday, just someday, I will be able to sit down and talk to her about my problems - everything. My mum had not forced me into Science as much as she believed it was the road to be.
For a reunion with those dear to my heart, to appreciate the values of what I have grown up with again.
For my wonderful friends. For them to talk sense to me, to comfort me, to laugh with me.
For discovering love. I have been sneaking and tiptoeing around the idea of "love", jumping in and out of relationships to find out the meaning of love, and whether I can love. Cynical as always, I have always believed there was no such thing as "love", only a combination of every other thing combined. I have people telling me that I have feared to embrace love, and I realise at this moment, they have been right all these while.
Love is not love till you feel it. Not that I am exactly the right person to preach about this subject, but the past 8 years (probably) I have not allowed myself to feel it. Perhaps it is so much easier to guard my heart against the pain, just flirting with the idea of "love" but not baring my naked self to it. But "love" is such an elusive thing that I am (as I am writing now) at a loss for words to describe it.
I emerge from relationships scarred, but always not hurt enough to continue looking for companionship. How is it that I always advocate independence, yet fear loneliness? Under the vivacious facade of "independence" and "nonchalance", I have successfully managed to appear strong and un-needy. Believe me, beneath that facade is a pathetic, whiny self who - like most real-life stories seem to talk about - thinks too much, reads too much into her boy's actions, words and all, becomes overcome with worry, jealousy and everything else. No, of course, I was exaggerating a little.
Yes but that side of us is inevitable in every human being. It is all about - as Miranda pointed out - perception and understanding our dear ones and putting ourselves in their shoes. It is about controlling our inner demons, chasing those fleeting thoughts away. Putting aside these mindless obsessions erases the pain that has been building up, and in turn lets a little love in. Too many years, I have been afraid to feel love. Till now, "love" is still as baffling as ever, and no one is sure of "love" till it is right in front of their face.
Too many questions, too many (nonsensical) answers. I think I will just have to keep trusting my heart, and those I believe in.