Like this:

Sitting in the dark in this huge beautiful house in a foreign land, secluded high up in the mountains amidst a grayish fog and listening to the pit-pit pattering of rain, I’m thinking of you.

I’m thinking of you. Are you thinking of me?

I’m all alone here in this part of the world, miles and miles away from you and yet, there is not a single day when I don’t think of you. Our embrace feels as if it just happened yesterday, your lips on my cheek is a sensation I can still vividly recall. There is not one single day that goes by that I don’t think of you.

I called but you were busy. I called again but you did not pick up this time. I emailed but your email account rejects me.

I cannot reach you from where I am now. I don’t know what’s going on in your mind. And I won’t. Not anymore.

I’m pining for something which I thought existed but distance is a great separator after all. Sitting here in the cold, in the dark, all alone but I do not ask for your sympathy. Perhaps, the chill has hardened my heart much as the heat has melted yours.

There is no room in your life, no space in your heart, and no allocations or pauses in your time for me. I can see that I’ve been disillusioned all this while, thinking I had meaning or was, at the very least, semi valuable, to you. I honestly don’t know why my heart longs to hear your voice so much, or to see an email, even two or three lines would have sufficed.. I really didn’t know why I fell for you even though I cautioned myself sternly not to encourage any affection more than necessary. I don’t even know why I feel so dulled and hurt by your inaction. Isn’t that something I should have expected from one who shuns relationship commitment in the favour of materialistic wealth and the other joyous pleasures money has to offer? Isn’t that something I should have expected from a x-year old bachelor whose personality attracts so many friends and whose demands for adventure remains unsatisfied? 

Unrequited love is a universal theme. Its victims are united in its pain. Well, I refuse to be one of them. Why should I, of all people, struggle with this internal battle when I have greater victories to fight for?

Hence, I’m moving on. Though you may not even realize the significance of this decision of mine as you’ve never realised the significance of yourself in my heart, I’m terminating this relationship because I can no longer deal with your silence. In this foreign soil, I’m face to face with an alien people, an alien culture, an alien environment, and an alien lifestyle everyday. I already feel so alone here without my trusted ones, I do not need to bear the pain of brutal ,silent treatment that rings of rejection from you.

Please don’t bother to declare your excuses at the Customs barrier. No one wants to hear them. Leave them behind, along with the memories. Though I have no photos, memoirs, nor lockets of our time together, every single day I spent with you was an explicit memory, abruptly fading with every signal of rejection you send. Soon, I will no longer remember those days where innocence played a part in my corruption.

To fall for someone and leave them is a harsh emotional situation to be in. To fall for someone who does not feel the same way and leave them is perhaps the best situation for the both of us. The cliché ‘time heals’ is not a cliché for nothing. All the melodious times we had together will fade with every second of my discipline to not think about you. I resolve now to occupy myself with other more positive issues, surround myself with different people, and arm myself with prayer at every moment of struggle and despair. I shall not look to you for comfort anymore.

Perhaps, we were never meant to be after all, as ridiculous as this sounds. The overused old Malay proverb verbalizes it more beautifully than these clichés of  English origins; One cannot clap with one hand.

A toast to the symphony that might have been! My music of emotional freedom has just begun!

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The above was one of my journal entries, after an estimated 4 weeks of heartbreak. I saw it quite recently and am frankly, very stunned to see how capable and how articulate I was then. The picture this entry paints was not quite like the one in my memory.

Indeed,after almost a year of college, I’m beginning to glimpse the growth.  When I look at this entry and some of my recent ones (personal journal,not here), I’m beginning to allow myself to hope. I’m beginning to see the difference in how I act, carry out my decisions, even the decisions I make and the struggles I go through are indicators of my growth.

Life in a American university, as one of the minority students, no, as one of the more privileged minority students, and as a scholar and dancer, I’m beginning to see what I lacked in my youth. When I look back on those moments in my youth, how much I must have irritated Wilson and William, how hard my friends must hav tried to not show faces of annoyance, how much my mother had to bear with my idealistic fantasies…

I’m truly blessed. Hardships here have knocked quite a bit of sense into me. Having to take full responsibility for everything I do – this is not something entirely different but somehow here, this task/duty is magnified.

I have many regrets, I have many hopes. I have many wants. But I also have much to thank for.

At least I’m suffering a broken heart no longer. It’s Time for me to Live.

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