Worth the wait

Lego date, lego date! ^^

I rhyme!(:
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Feels like

I've been cut
And I'm watching myself bleed.
Watching myself do nothing to help, do nothing to stem this ache that leaks from the very centre of my being.
Feels like I'm not here. Correction. I am here, but I'm not me-
I'm.
I'm a floater. Standing above me.
Waiting for the glass to break. Waiting for him to stop.
Waiting for him to catch himself.

But he won't. He won't.
"Please," I say softly, "please."
But he won't. He won't because, can't I see that he loves me. Why won't I love him back? Can't I love him enough to not have hurt him, to not have made it such that we ended up here-
As he tries, tries and tries, so desperately to claim what I made him lose.

It's my fault.
I made this happen. I made him like this.
It's my fault.
I didn't love him enough, I couldn't have.
It's my fault. That I'm not here anymore.

That I'm just standing over us-
Waiting, hoping, that something will break so I can hurt.
So I can say to him,
"You did this."

I wait.
And I wait.
And I wait.


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A broken string

I want to kill you.

No, killing you wouldn't be justice.
I want you to hurt, and cry and beg.
I want you to be desperate for your last breath, and I want to hold that from you and watch.
Just watch.

Leave. Leave. Just leave. Fucking leave!
You won't do this, you won't.
You're not going to win. I won't let you.
I won't let you do this.

You will leave, and let the blood on your hands burn like acid,
Straight into your fucking soul, and then deeper.

You will leave, taking no more than your sad, sorry, loathsome self with you.

Just let me keep her

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I try

I think of you,

and I think of all the ways you make me happy

all the ways you manage to make me smile

all those moments I do a double-take and figure, "hey, she really cares about me."

But I don't know why I feel the way I do sometimes. And if maybe, there're a lot of things on the outside that get me. Or add to this.

Hell, I don't know what's happening, okay?

______________________________________

but it's so hard to believe

Home

I spent all day looking forward to this evening-

Us finishing work and coming home for dinner.

And work was great. It was brilliant and productive (sure the last morning class could've gone better but you can't win them all hey?)

It was me.

It was me doing all I know, with all that I could. And I loved it.

But for the first time ever, there was something beyond that.

The rest of me, waiting right on the edge. Waiting to go home to you.

and so I did.

______________________________________________

I don't know how to feel about what I feel right now.

It's not wrong.

It's just new. And when things are new, you sort of want to look to someone who'll give you even just the slightest downward tilt of a chin- that might just pass for a nod.

Because more often than not,

it's infinitely easier to lean towards all the things you know with your person.

Especially when they know how to say your name just right. Especially when they need you like you've always needed them.

And even whilst you're looking over your shoulder at that 20-foot distance between you and the only Something New you've ever wanted with all of your being.

the other girl

as they sit and talk about the troubles of love,

of options used and unused,

or musings, and wonderings and "maybe, this is what she's thinking..."

some roles, you never grow out of.

the way you're able to love me

the thought of you makes me smile

(:

I'm smiling.

At the thought of chubby munchkins too. Ones that you may or may not be allergic to.

the thought of you makes me smile

SYF

Starts in 9 days

Lighting for Serangoon is in two days, Lighting for Kuo Chuan in four days.

Fajar performs in 16 days, Serangoon in 18,

Kuo Chuan in 22.

Kuo Chuan also showcases at the end of this week.

Wow.

Goodnight World.

we're going to be okay

on empty roads, at playgrounds,

and outside churches

we're okay(:

Something's going wrong

wrong, all wrong

Where my writing's become a crutch, where I have ceased talking when it matters (or when it should)

Isn't this exactly what happened last time?

Despite always having been able to talk to this person, you find, that when you start seeing them, when you're with them, when you're *cue scary music* in a relationship,

there are things you just can't talk about anymore.

Actually, that's a lie. You don't talk about it anymore, but you tell yourself you can't.

I don't know why that is, you know.

Are we afraid of what it might mean to the other person, of how it might be taken? Afraid of the truth that will come out when we talk about things-

of our insecurities and all our selfish sides coming out?

Like, despite knowing full well that Issue 01 isn't about me, I feel like I can't help you and I don't know what to do and so I am upset for two reasons. A) Because you have Issue 01 and B) I don't know how to make it better.

To admit that, will always sound stupid and self-absorbed. Especially as we say it out loud. And maybe that's it. That's what we don't want.

Or maybe it's just- I don't know. Admitting that despite everything, there is something wrong at all.

That there are things that make one upset, even though you don't want to be upset and even though you feel like you shouldn't be upset and even though you feel like the two of you are above and beyond whatever it is you're upset about.

Bottom line is: I'm upset/ You're upset.

But for some reason, it's easier to grab my phone and talk about it with my best friends and agree with them and say, "Yes, I know I need to go have a conversation about this." before I actually go and talk.

Or better yet, sometimes I write.

And then, once I've written all of it out, I feel better and I think,

"I'm okay!"

Problem solved, crisis averted. TA DAH. We're good as new.

And I don't stop to think that you can be together with someone and still miss out on their lives. That maybe, I am causing that to happen.

That maybe, it's not fair that I do that.

There's the running joke of how the phrase "We need to talk" is always the scariest or will probably spell out terrible news.

But it's not supposed to be like that.

It's not.

baby girl

we're all skinned knees and bruises,

paper cuts and blisters.

I love you

We're all the wrong sentences made up with the right words,

always wanting, always trying-

and whenever we need to, always fixing

I love you, I love you

We're plasters and warm tea,

scones and ice-cream, peanut-butter and jelly

We're rainy days without an umbrella, sunny days sprawled out on grass,

pictures without a camera, tree-houses in the middle of civilization, picnics beside an empty bench.

Lego pieces out of different boxes

I love you

And I don't say it nearly enough; tell you a world of other things when sometimes,

it's all I mean to say-

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou

For everything that you were, are and will be

For everything that we are, we want and want to be

All the wrong lines scratched out in pencil, 3am songs, two and a half hour phonecalls

and time that disappears into rivers and sunsets and Sunday mornings.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

by window sills

Oh baby,

today there's nothing that this drink and smokes won't fix.

I am a happy girl(:

Let me tell you one time

Your world, is my world
My fight is your fight
My breath, is your breath

You'll be my Number One girl
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View of the carpark

Letting her bags drop to the floor, she reaches towards her drawer.

Her In Case Of Emergency drawer.

Opens the tiny ziplock bag its in and grabs her tiny lighter off the counter, heading straight for the window.

And she breathes.

Oh she breathes, and tries to find relief.

_____________________________

I would call it an episode of sorts. Can't say I know what's up with me, really.

But I found myself tired, sick, annoyed, frustrated and biting back tears on an escalator.

It all hit me at once. And in a text to a rather concerned Erika, it sounded something like-

I HATE MY BIRTHDAY. HATE IT. HATE IT. HATE IT.

Okay, major exaggeration. But I was hit by that. It was sudden, solid, and real.

And I was overwhelmed by such immense annoyance and frustration.

I wasn't the most pleasant person to be around at that point.

And I'm sorry.

I'm sorry to Veek and Qing, for being such a baby and a brat, Vicky and Eme and even Mommy for not being the best company towards the end, and Erika for clearly not being the happiest of bunnies on the phone.

I'm sorry, and thank you for putting up with me(:

Whatever this is,

it'll pass.

Tomorrow I will disappear into my life.

_______________________________

This evening:

Thank you

To Mommy, for thinking tonight up

To Erika, who made it after a long day at work and an equally long one tomorrow, for writing me a letter that made me smile

To Eme, Veek & Enqing who came at such short notice and straight from work/school

To Vicky, who made it especially after tutoring at 9 at night and for making me smile by telling me I looked pretty when all I really wanted to do was sit down and cry

For turning up, for being you, for taking time to hang out, when all we've been is busy.

And Thank You,

To Bird, for calling when it was my Birthday on your side of the world, and making my night.

We all say hello too.

You made me smile and want to tear up all at once.

I love you(:

On birthdays, aging, and feeling like a Princess while it happens

I've always loved Birthdays.

Always.

Not just my own but everyone else's as well. It's that one day a year that you get to be spoilt rotten. That one day when everything, absolutely everything, ought to go your way.

One day where you have double the reason to throw a bitch fit if someone spills something on you, or you're made to take the train.

I love birthdays.

Except this year, I'm growing increasingly frustrated, no that's not it, increasingly irked by the idea of my birthday.

Actually, it just sort of happened in a flash.

I don't really feel like doing much with my birthday. And oh I know it's supposed to be special, and if it were me, I'd jump at all these "special" sort of numbers- 12 (last year before you're a teen), 13 (first year you ARE a teen), 18 (legal), 19 (last year of being a teen), 20 (OMG! The big Two-Oh), 21 (More legal?), 25 (quarter of a century) the list, it goes on.

Except,

I feel like sitting at home.

I'm working, this birthday, and you know what, I honestly don't mind it. I've scheduled a session with Kuo Chuan and I have a full day with them.

Mommy wants to hang out this evening though, except I don't know if I'm capable of pulling off a Sit-at-the-bar-til-we-hit-midnight sorta thing. I'm tired and old, old and tired.

And I have work in the morning.

Last year, at least the evening before, it sorta of irked me a bit. Because I'm always so anal about the whole omg-it's-an-hour-before-the-birthday!-thing.

It wasn't anything special.

ALTHOUGH, Keith was very sweet and we met up. Yes, somehow I sailed into my new age with Keith and the chocolate muffin she bought me as a cake.

This year, for some reason, I don't feel like being awake when it happens.

I don't feel like being aware of that single moment when the numbers change on me.

And I've never been like this, ever.

Every other aspect of my life's going completely fine. It's wonderful.

Erika says it's my birthday week and that means I can have anything I want.

So then,

what if I'd just like to sit at home with Sushi, wine and My Best Friend's Wedding?

Or Greys' Anatomy. I could do that too.

How about if I wanted to spend it practicing the monologue I've just memorized for my audition- because I'm just so in love with Ellen's words?

And how about, I don't think about all this crazily different things that I'm about to be going through this year. And how, it actually feels like my life is (almost) restarting?

Sunday mornings

Where we wake up and lie in bed talking.

I love that about you. I love that I can do that with you, that I do that with you.

And for hours and hours, at that.

Until we find ourselves famished, and dozey and fighting a losing battle against inertia.

"Do you ever worry that you'll run out of things to talk about with her?" The Little Creature asked me, over Bee Hoon.

I've asked you that before. In fact, I think you've asked me that before too.

"Nope," is my reply.

Because just as we've spent hours lazying about talking endlessly about things, we've also spent hours just sitting around and not saying a thing.

You're perfect.

And I love you.

Why, why

are you so hot.

Thanks E,

THANKS.

Doesn't look like I can do work right now

Because I am so, so, so, impossibly distracted by the thought of you right now.

(:

Absolutely perfect

In the press of every kiss-

The morning will come.

And here,

I'll go to sleep and wake

to you.

You're the perfectest morning

This is how I know-
Everytime you say it,
Even when I don't say it back, even when I'm angry at the world, even as much as I give people odd looks, even as much as I second guess people,
Even after all this time,
Everytime you tell me you love me
My skin, it gets all tingly.

And oh, I can't help smiling.

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(:

No rival throne survives
And I
Serve only You

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I don't

Know what to do.

We're all caught up with the shit on our own plate and.
And so I just, don't.

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Here it is

fuck you world.

there, I said it.

I don't know what's going on or why I'm so pissy.

I'm not like overwhelmed with rage or anything. I'm just pissy. And not in the best of moods.

I don't know what to do for myself anymore.

I simply, don't know how.

Top ten things on my mind

1) I need to take out my trash

2) I ought to fold my knickers and clean laundry

3) and then put them all away

4) I don't feel like doing anything much

5) I'm not going to smoke anymore tonight

6) Is she okay? Hmm

7)I want to lie about on my bed

8) I like how Serangoon's piece looks in my head. Will they pull it off thought?

9) My clean laundry isn't going to fold itself

10) I should text Jo and Sugi about schedules

11) FUCK. why didn't I tell Sugi in person just now

12) This sucks

13) I want to lie in bed

14) My laundry won't fold itself and my room is starting to look like a kip

15) I hope my Kuo Chuan kids get something out of the 12th

16) laundry. it's waiting.

17) I should take off my contacts because they're dry

18) This is NOT ten things

19) I want to block out the world for a while

20) What I do about all the things in my head in the meantime

So I'm pissy and annoyed and it's not anybody's fault but I don't fucking feel like doing anything.

So I say,

Fuck you world. fuck you.

Disappearing

These days,

I don't know where I am.

I wake up and figure I've got X number of minutes to shower and dress to get to the bus stop by Y o'clock sharp to be at School 123 by Z am. It's a day to day to day, I'm hanging on by mere threads. Yet I am fully aware that so many have it worse. Or that it could be worse.

I'm excited about work. With SYF coming up. I'm excited about what I'm doing and what I can keep doing and what's missing. Admittedly stressed, but excited all the same. And the children's program is going alright.

But I guess there's a lot of things happening at the same time. And although I know that the mountain on my plate is but a tiny fraction of the rest of it, it's all sort of worked me into this blur of students and faces and coffee and smokes.

I'm in a daze, most times.

Honest to God, I'm so out of it. I'm not feeling anything, don't feel like talking much.

Just want to lie by the pool and block the rest of the world out. Which I attempted to do on Thursday except it poured within the hour.

I won't have any more days like that for a long, long while.

I'm not around anymore. Or like, I am, but not really.

You know how some people sit with their significant others and... well it doesn't even have to be a significant other, sometimes it's parents or friends. Well some people sit with another person and all they're thinking is, "This person is here but he's not really here. He's somewhere else. And I'm not there with him."

That's me. Except I'm the person missing. Not because I'm bored, not because I don't want to be there. But just because.

Then I catch myself, and bring myself back. Catch myself, bring myself back again. And I'm paying attention, I am. I'm not bored. But.

I don't know. Okay? I don't know.

The only time I've felt fully present is when Bird and I have been BBM-ing. That and Enqing's piano recital on Thursday evening which Erika and I went for.

It's me. I know it is.

And it feels like if someone touches me, they'll find out that I'm just a hologram. I'll find out I'm just a hologram.

And. I feel bad.

Yes, of course I think about you. Yes, I do care about you and wonder what you're thinking. Yes, I do want to know how you're doing and what's bugging you.

But I don't feel like there's enough of me here. There isn't.

And I'm mortally afraid that if I even try to hold you, we'll both realize I'm made out of some chiffon-like material.

That you can't hold on tight enough to me because.

Because I can't.

It's 4:40 on a Thursday afternoon

And I spent my half day off signing myself up for the rest of my life.

uh.

uhmm.

hmm.

I don't know what to say now. Think I'm going about it all wrong. I'm not printing anything out when I ought to be. Maybe I'll lose it all. That would suck.

On another note,

SYF's round the corner, sneaking under the covers with us at night and whispering into our ears before we fall asleep.

I'm excited and panicky all at the same time. More excited actually.

It's going to be a crazy month and a half.

What's crazier though, is how it happens and then you fall,

you fall, crashing, arms flailing, kicking, screaming, back into real life. I don't know how I'll do that.

It's going to be a crazy month and a half.

She says she misses me already. I like how she does.

Somehow manages to do it in this impossibly endearing way. Non-intrusive, and honest, despite it being something unfamiliar.

And it makes me smile thinking about it. How she tries, how she wants.

Anything you'd like, ma chéri.

Must be the tea

mm(: