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Writings > Short Story > Love

In search of a soul mate

Previous short story:
Boy O' Boy
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Me vs Me

If I could define this relationship with colours, it would go from white, to pink, to purple, to envy green, to bright red, and finally, to pitch black.

If relationship is defined with food, it would be ice-cream, sweets, lollipops, ferraro rocher, nasi ayam, petai, and a lot of sambal belacan. Desirable, but dangerous.

Committed in a serious relationship is like risking your life into a 360 degree of roller coaster ride – it's either you ended up barfing the entire stomach content, or you'll be standing on the ground laughing and cheering. I ended up puking, with a full basin of tears and an entire bucket of curses.

With a record of only 1 pre-committed relationship, and 1 serious relationship, I know I'm not qualified to elaborate this topic in detail.  Nevertheless, it is enough to make me dread the future possibilities – in particular, the idea of having to go through it all over again.

The first stage of relationship is everything nice, everything sweet, everything good, and everything is a yes, yes, and yes. It's when his musky smell is your sleeping lullaby, his phone calls is the awaited moment, and the appointment to various places is your very own cloud nine adventures.

And you move on to the next stage of getting to know that person in greater depth. His scandals, and his affairs, and so often, it's not a good one. His hidden persona began to show as you begin to feel comfortable with one another. This is the hardest part. The part where you begin to doubt your decision. Take it, or dump it? I took it, wanting to be all noble, and accepting him with all his flaws, and letting go of the mistakes.

My dear, forgiving is easy, but to forget?  It take your entire lifetime to deal with.

The yes, yes, yes stage moves on to the no, no, no stage. Nothing ever satisfies you, and nothing really satisfies him. The trust is broken, instead, it's filled with suspicions, jealousy, and envy.

There's the stage where you keep on breaking up, and getting back together for the umpteenth time - the stage when the freaking tears fill the basin the most. It's hard to let go somebody who knows the bad and the annoying side of you, and yet, who still desires you.

As you move on further, he keep asking for more, and more, and more, and up to the level that you can't comprehend anymore. How can you give something that you don't want to give? Why force? Why not tolerate? Why can't he try to understand? Because he's from Mars, and I'm from Venus.  We can never expect them to understand. He's thinking for his dick, I'm thinking for my future. 

That explains the nuisance in writing at 3 in the morning.

As I sat on the bed, resting my body against the wall, while hugging the cat pillow, stretched my legs and crossing it with one another, with the phone on the left side, blip-blipping the incoming hate SMS, and I stared ahead, as if I can see through the walls, thinking… Reminiscing... I've been in that position for the next 20 minutes, when finally I got up, grabbed my towel, headed to the bathroom and munched a few Tiger biscuits on the way. For the first time, not a single tears.

It's clear now.

For that somebody who used to be a 'somebody', who knows in seconds when my devilish smile is me bluffing, who understand my silence is my anger. Thank you for the memories, the laughters, and the jumbled emotions. Have a great life ahead.

I can never understand how other people can make it look so easy.

Previous short story:
Boy O' Boy
Next short story:
Me vs Me

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Sesuka hati berkata-kata

Writing the heart out,with wit and sarcasm.
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