Day Seventy Nine

How are you supposed to stop thinking about a person when that's all you've done for the last two years?

Day Seventy Eight

One emotion trumps all. And it's enough to make me forget any trace of misery.
Embarrassment.

I do recall the time that I accidentally-on purpose masqueraded as a medical student. And then when I was found out, I was forced to write a very odd sounding apology detailing why I hadn't bothered to correct someone's assumption.
Even now the memory burns in my mind and makes me want to bury myself under the blankets in my bed until I can block it out, like a million other embarrassing situations.

Like the time I didn't wear a bra when I went to breakfast at the Hilton hotel at Niagara Falls and thought I could get away with it.

Or the time I sat on my friend's glasses and broke them.

Or the very first time that I swore in front of my parents. I was six and just heard the word at school.

Or the time I took photos of a guyfriend that I had a crush on without thinking about the fact that my (Asian) parents were going to develop the film. I had an hour long lecture about
- boys being the evil of the world
- developing the film was a waste of money

Uggggh. Please cringe on my behalf.

Day Seventy Seven

Sometimes you've just got to try and move on, even though your heart insists on dragging behind you, like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

Also.
Must. Resist. Temptation. To. Contact.
Must. Wait.

Even if it means he won't reply. Even if it means that he's bonding with that flirt right now. Because I have no right to be jealous any more.

Day Seventy Six

The only way to get through it all is to expect nothing at all. Because that way, even a text seems like the world to you.

Day Seventy Five

There isn't a day when I don't miss you.
Grief is funny. It goes around in cycles. I remember when I didn't get into medicine. I cried the day results came out. And I thought I was starting to get over it when it hit me again, a few months later, that I did not get in. So I stayed unhappy for a few more days, cried for a few more days. And to this day, I am still bitter about it.

The same is happening now. I was starting to get better, starting the process of moving on. And now that he's actually physically in Christchurch, it's suddenly struck me that he will not be in Dunedin waiting for me like he has been the last two years. That he won't be outside my flat when I arrive. That he won't be outside that door, knocking. That there's a real possibility that I will not see him again for a very long time, or ever. Sure, he's made plans to come back in April and I plan to go to Christchurch some time. But one thing I learnt is that you can't make plans too ahead in the future because things change. What if the last time that I'll ever see him was the day that we said goodbye at the airport, right before I got on my plane?
But my worst fear is this: that like the medicine issue, I will never get over him. And there's no way to jump back on, like the medicine issue. There's no second chance, no post graduate entry for a relationship that ended because of the stance of two people on an issue that will remain unchanged for both parties.

Life is moving on for him. But life is just so stagnant, so numb and grey for me. It's like I'm just going through the motions and no matter what little encouragement I try to think up for myself, I always start and end the day the same way, wishing that there was a way out.

Day Seventy Four

But on some days when you wake up, regardless of your mindset, you know you're going to have a bad day because you miss them so much.

Day Seventy Three cont.

After some thought, I have come to the following conclusions:
1) Even if he doesn't move on today, he'll move on tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, it'll happen someday. The thing is, I can't just sit here and wait till that happens. There's no point in hoping and wishing that he'll turn around because I need to sort my own stuff out spiritually before I can even hope to help him turn around.

2) Perhaps forgetting is the best present that time brings. Even though this will involve me forgetting all the things that we've done, all those times we had together. Why dwell on the past when life just moves on? Maybe instead of ripping out my stitches every time they try to heal in an effort to keep remembering him, I should just let the wound grow back together.

3) If we're meant to be, it'll happen one day. And even though I can try to prod and push us together, I don't have a final say. God has a plan and regardless if it involves him or if it doesn't involve him, the plan will still be perfect.