Thursday, March 29, 2012

Looking Through the Eyes of Love

For the first time in weeks I was able to get  6-hours uninterrupted sleep.  Must be the heavy schnitzel forced to my gut by my friend, over dinner.

However my respite was betrayed by my dream.  I dreamt I was in a quaint coffee shop with this sultry girl who exuded confidence and wit.  We were having coffee and I was giving her tips and advice on how to take care of Munchkin.

Huh???... Wait a minute!!!! … This is just a dream.  I have to wake up, I have to wake up, I have to wake up!

As soon as I have gathered enough strength to wake up, tears came flowing instantly as I opened my eyes.

I try not to think about it, my subconscious mind, would not let me.  I know he is now proactively in online dating.  Wonder if he has already met someone?  Wonder if he is taking his way out from his busy workweek to meet her?   If not yet, then there is the long weekend, which is fast approaching.  Good opportune to meet new “friends.”

Erase! Erase! Erase!

I should not be thinking about this.  So what if he decides to move on?  We are not together anymore.  And yes, for him life goes on and so must I.  But that’s the thing.  I feel hurt and somehow betrayed that he is not even grieving for the end of us.  He is not even willing to try to fight for us and try to find a way to at least meet me half-way.  This makes me feel like I am very disposable.

Before I am about to rant out a long list of my lamentations and create graphs and charts in powerpoint presentation of my accusation against Munchkin, a small still voice whispered to me, “Didn’t you say you want him not to feel the pain, and that you would rather take the hurt yourself on his behalf, than to make him cry?  Didn’t you pray for someone to provide him comfort and help him ease the pain?

At that instance, I was enveloped in silence.

Yes that is true.  Who knows, she might be the answer to my prayer for him.  Although it is not me, at least my prayers were answered.  Even if the answer to my prayer is not to the exact detail of how I wanted it to be, I am happy still for the answered prayer.

My past relationship has left me wounded and insecure that I have admittedly brought along my insecurities from my past hurt in my relationship with Munchkin.  I have never been jealous  before, but with Munchkin, I wore a green tinted spectacle.

But this time, I will not be a green-eyed monster anymore.  I will now be a pink-eyed "monster", looking through the eyes of love.

Unfair as it is, while God gave us the freedom to love, the other person also has the freedom not to love us back.  Love is not an obligation, and it is definitely something not to be forced.  This is what they call “free will”.  

If we really love someone, we have to let them be happy and seek for their own best interest – at all cost, whatever that means.  Love moves in mysterious ways.  Sometimes, it means letting go.  Sometimes, it means holding on to what’s left.  Sometimes, it means letting them be with someone else.  Sometimes, it is letting them commit “mistakes”.  Sometimes, it is accepting their decision even if we do not see the rationale.  Sometimes, it means letting ourselves be hurt in ways we can’t even begin to explain.

I guess this is why 1 Corinthians 13 said that “love is not selfish, it is not self-seeking.”

And so, I must step back, stay still and be silent.  I wish Munchkin well.  I wish him love, joy, peace and happiness ever after.

New girl, I want to hate you.  I wished I could have strangled you in my dream instead.  But I won't. It is enough for me to know that he has you to keep him company.  And so, I wish you all the very best. Like in my dream, my advice to you is that you love, cherish, and treasure my Munchkin.  He is precious.  Make sure you make him feel that way.  He is sweet, make sure you return the favor. He is faithful and loyal, please don't betray his trust. He may be strong but deep inside he is a softie, make sure you don't hurt him. ... Now, handing him over to you.  :)  Please handle him with care.

Butterfly (excerpts from the song of Mariah Carey)

When you love someone so deeply
They become your life
It's easy to succumb to overwhelming fears inside
Blindly I imagined I could
Keep you under glass
Now I understand to hold you
I must open up my hands
And watch you rise

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly

I have learned that beauty
Has to flourish in the light
Wild horses run unbridled
Or their spirit dies
You have given me the courage
To be all that I can
And truly feel your heart will
Lead you back to me when you're
Ready to land

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were ment to be
So spread your wings and fly

I can't pretend these tears
Aren't over flowing steadily
I can't prevent this hurt from
Almost overtaking me
ButI will stand and say goodbye
For you'll never be mine
Until you know the way it feels to fly

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

One Last Cry

I feel like I want to cry.

I may be tempted to ignore and try to forge past the pain of my heartbreak with shopping, gallons of rocky road ice cream, and rebound dates.  But this is a cowardly approach. Its benefit can only be temporary and unsustainable.

If I go on shopping, I will be forever in debt and loose my future savings.  If I gobble up gallons of ice cream that would be unhealthy.  This would leave me overweight, bankrupt and single.  And definitely no rebound relationships/dates.  That would be unfair and cruel, most especially to myself.  *Just even thinking about it makes me want to puke!*

It takes a lot of courage to be sad.  But with grieving comes increased awareness of what's truly important to you, whom you love and who loves you.

And so I just cry.

Research suggest that crying has the psychological benefit of lifting ones mood.  The Freudian theory is that it is beneficial to get feelings out, that if you let them fester, they can affect you physically and psychologically.  Crying can actually reduce the pain.

Personally, I feel like crying helps me release deep emotions than can never be expressed. After I cry, it makes me feel better. It has a magical calming effect on me. I feel emotionally cleansed afterwards.

No, I am not bipolar, manic depressive, nor am I addicted to a certain kind of sadness.  I just need to release the pain.

I think I just need my one last cry.

And as I write, this song from Brian McKnight says it all.  As if he wrote the song for me.

One Last Cry

My shattered dreams and broken
Heart are mending on the shelf.
I saw you holding hands standing so close to someone else.
Now I sit all alone, wishing all my feeling was gone.

I'd give my best to you
Nothing for me to do
But have one last cry.

One last cry
Before I leave it all behind
I've gotta put you out of my mind,this time
Stop living a lie.
I guess I'm down to one last cry.

I was here,you were there.
Guess we never could agree.
While the sun shines on you,
I need some love to rain on me.
Still, I sit all alone,
Wishing all my feelings were gone.
Gotta get over you.
Nothing for me to do
But have one last cry.

I know I gotta be strong,
But 'round me
Life goes on and on and on, and on
I'm gonna dry my eyes
Right after I have my one last cry.

Hopefully, this will be my one last cry.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Fight of Faith

My friend coerced me to go online dating, as she said it had high success rating of getting in to a relationship.  She convinced to activate my profile on line.  She said in Australia people just break up and move on to the next relationship.  I must do the Aussie thing as I am now in Australia.  Everyday she would ask me over and over. 

I did not want to... I am not ready for any relationships.  I am hopelessly devoted to Munchkin.  I am not interested in meeting other men, as I have already met the one I want. I know I have it in my will power to choose to stop loving him, but I just won't.  Even though he is not available for me,  I choose to wait until the tides of time will change.  This is my battle cry.

But no, my friend persisted on combatting my ideals. Her incessant persistence finally got to me.  And so, to satisfy her and keep her quiet, I obliged to her mandate and activated my online dating profile.  Yes, after all, at the end of the day, it is just a profile.  And I have a choice NOT to respond to any messages.

My online dating profile has been reluctantly dangled in that site for few weeks.  I have given little information about myself, just the basics,  despite my friend's coaxing.  Hey, she should be satisfied enough that I have my profile activated.  That's it.  Nothing more.

I have received some message invitations, but true to my word, I did not respond.  Except for one - my Munchkin's message.  The instant I saw his message, I froze.  He is activating his online dating profile as well.  And he is proactively messaging. I do not know what his intentions are in sending me a message in that dating site.  Is it a slap in my face to tell me that he is activating his online dating profile as well? Or is he genuinely trying to pursue me?  But if he does?  Why go through that site?  He knows my contact details.  Better yet, he knows where I live.  He can always knock on my door anytime, and he will always be welcome.

And then I took a closer look, and checked his profile, I saw he posted a couple of his solo pictures - the ones I took from my own camera, in some of the dates I have organised for us.  At that moment, I just crashed at high speed velocity rate - hook down line and sinker. I felt like I was in commatose.  I felt like I needed a quick resuscitation and a heart transplant. 

"S" was surprised to see me curled up on the floor in tears.  When I showed her my discovery, she sat on the floor beside me, hugged me, and cried with me.  

"Rhyanne, I have been patient enough in allowing you to grieve and embrace your pain, as I know it is not easy.  I asked you once when do you say enough when it comes to love, and your response was never.  But don't you think the answer could also be now?  I hate to see you like this.  It hurts me, and I cannot stand it anymore.  Where is your faith?  Where is your hope?  Accept that is over - for now.  But who knows what the future may bring.  It all goes back to you faith and your belief in God, who allowed such thing to happen, for a reason."

And then it hit me.  She has a point.  It all goes back to my faith and to my belief in God, who allowed such thing to happen, for a reason.  Maybe for now it is over.  And I have to accept this fact.  My misery is caused by my inexorable refusal to accept that it is finished between us, coupled with my lack of faith and hope.

God moves in mysterious ways and He works in ways that we cannot see and sometimes don't understand.  We often ask, why do bad things happen to good people.  The present may be bleak and hopeless, but there is a greater reason behind it and only the future, through time, will tell.  Sometimes, God allow things to happen to teach us and help us grow.

I see that Munchkin is working his way out in moving on.  As hard as it is, I should not get in the way. I should respect his decision and let him.  As much as I love him and want him for my own, part of loving is being brave enough to allow him to find love and happiness, even if it means finding them on someone else's arms.  Hopefully, if we are meant to be, his meeting (or dating, although I hate to use this word!) with other women will make him appreciate me more and learn to value me (just as I have learned to appreciate and value him more over our time apart).  If we are truly meant to be, no matter how many women he meets or dates :(, love will always lead him back to me. 

Sometimes in our lives we must loose our dreams for us to realize how important they are.  Then when they are restored and emerge with a new life from the tomb of regret, we can then celebrate their resurrection with true appreciation.

I am a lover, and I am a fighter.  I fight for my love.  I fight not to loose my ability to love.  But this time, I am waving the white flag in utter surrender.  I surrender in faith and in hope.  I still pray and ask God to bring my Munchkin back, not now but maybe in His proper appointed time.

And so I step back, be still and be silent.  Hear that this silence is my loudest cry.  I can't pretend these tears are overflowing steadily.  I can't prevent this hurt from almost overtaking me.  But I have to be brave.  I must be strong.  

The only fight I can engage for now is the fight within me to demonstrate my faith in action.  I should stop crying like a defeated fighter.  I must channel my depression, frustration, and feeling of powerlessness into the fight for perseverance, tenacity, faith, and hope.  Yes, it is over - but only for now.  

Where put my focus on, becomes my reality.  And so I now shift my gaze up to the heavens.  I rest my fighting gear, and allow Him to work and do the fighting for me, for Munchkin, and for our relationship. Deep in my heart I have faith that our relationship will be restored better than ever, perhaps not now, but in the future.

We fight an invisible fight of faith.  My God is mighty to save.  he cannot only move mountains, but also move the hearts of men.

This battle may be lost, but war's victory lies ahead.

In the meantime, I should stop acting like a prisoner of war and start acting like a war victor.  I walk by faith and not by sight.  I must stop mourning for his loss, but start preparing for his arrival.  I look at the mirror and see my eye bags growing more eye bags.  Not a pretty sight.  I must not allow him to see me like this upon his return!  I must start preparing now in anticipation for his homecoming.  

At the same time, I must now deactivate my online dating profile.  I am not doing an "Aussie thing".  I am doing the "Rhyanne thing".

Just as the father waited for his prodigal son to return, I also wait. 

Every day, a new day... A day closer to his arrival.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Saturday Night

Weekends and long holidays used to be my favourite part of the week, as it used to be my special time with Munchkin.  People at work are used to me greeting them my early TGIF salutations starting on Thursday afternoons.

However, things have changed.  No more lovely weekends and blissful holidays.  In fact these days, spending my weekends (and most likely long holidays in the future) are tough and painful.

My friend tells me that I feel this way because I am just used to the convenience of the past.  She reckons that I need to let go of the past and start building new memories in order for me to appreciate the present and embrace the future.

I hate to think that I am holding on just for the sake of convenience, habit, and familiarity.  And so to prove it to myself, I have now filled all my weekends with various activities and spending time with some friends, which I have been unable to do.

Last weekend I had already planned my days ahead with my housemate, “S”, that when our next-door neighbour dropped us a note for a late night street party invitation, we planned to decline.  We are both not used going out late at night, and we are like Cinderella who turns in to pumpkin at the strike of midnight.

We attempted to escape from my neighbour’s invitation to join them in the street party.  But funny, how when you try to escape, you get yourself caught red-handedly trying to escape, that embarrassment compels you to just give in and ditch any form of excuses.  It was clearly a last minute twist of event.

Upon reaching the venue, I was just following the pack, feeling overwhelmed with the massive turn-out of people.  However, in the midst of the crowd, I feel lonely.  I miss Munchkin. Oh, how much he has depopulated my world.

I smiled and laughed, pretending to be happy. Our neighbours were taking pictures.  I posed for the camera.  I need to look happy, for the benefit of my family, so that when the pictures are posted in Facebook they will think that I am moving on and that I am now feeling better.

However, truth of the matter is, deep inside I wished Munchkin was there with us in the party, holding my hand and making me feel secure amidst the crowd.  As I imagined the feel of his hands, my eyes swelled and tears were almost starting to build up.  But S gave me the look and the nudge, telling me to enjoy the moment, listen to the music and cry later when I get home.  

And like an obedient child I nodded, then slowly following the beat of the drum, I tapped my feet, and gradually, as I listened to the music, I felt the rhythm surround me.   Suddenly, I was on a world of my own.  I danced to the beat of the music, like no one is watching. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was dancing with my Munchkin.  I forgot all my cares in the world and surprisingly I had fun and I enjoyed it.

However, my carefree moment was interrupted when some random Irish guy hopped in out of nowhere and burst my bubble. The image of Munchkin vanished from my side and now I see a face of this blonde guy who introduced himself and wanted to dance with me, as he said it is St Patrick’s Day and it is part of the tradition to dance with an Irish.  I was at first startled and confused, with some hesitation, I accepted the invitation to dance.  However this time I was of course more conscious and guarded.  As the song was about to finish, he suddenly grabbed me closer and leaned towards my face.  He tried to kiss me, but my instinct was faster and I ducked away and managed to escape by pretending to make a dance turn and swiftly I took a big stride step and positioned myself in the middle of a group. 

From then on, I was awakened to the surroundings around me. Amidst the sea of people, I feel like I am drowning. In the thick of the multitude I looked around... searching... and hoping to catch even just a glimpse of Munchkin...  Sadly he was not there.

This is what I get for going out at night and dancing like crazy. I will never dance again in the crowd. At that moment I wanted run and seek the comfort of my Munckin’s strong arms and loving embrace… There is no other man I would rather hold hands with than him; no other man I would like to hug than him. However, his embrace is no longer available for me.

I miss my Munchkin and I how I wished he was there with me, every single moment.  Yes, I miss my Munchkin not because of convenience or habit or familiarity, but because I love him.

I then searched for S. It is time for us to go home.  I am now turning in to a pumpkin.  It is definitely home time.  It is clearly now crying time.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Paper Skin, Paper Heart

Whilst pink is my favourite colour, I do not want to paint myself pink, let alone deal with an army of invisible ants parading on my skin, forming an ant hill of wavy lines and crisscross patterns on my epidermis.

I am not a physically sensitive person. I have never suffered any symptoms of allergy at all.  But recently I have been mugged by some unknown allergens, that which summons a squadron of histamines in my body to combat against some secret foreign pathogens.

After weeks of procrastination, I decided to finally take some action and consult a doctor.  It took me a while to consult a doctor because I knew the doctor will just discount it as any normal allergy and will give me anti-histamines, which I already am taking.  But my scepticism was proven wrong when the doctor diagnosed me with “dermatographic urticaria” or Dermographism.

Dermographism in simple english literally means skin writing. Its condition is manifested by the protrusion of the mast cells under the skin when an external object comes in contact with the skin.  Membranes surrounding the skin has become weak, therefore a distinct sense of pressure on the skin triggers the histamine to from a defense within that area, thus causing the skin to swell and itch (hives).

It sounds very scientific for my brain to absorb.  And so the doctor tried to explain it by a drawing a picture – on my skin.  When she drew a circle on my arm, after 2 minutes I saw the invisible circle coming to life growing from white to pink on my very skin.  It lasted for an hour, even after I have left the doctor. 

Apparently, this condition affects 5% of the world population. The longevity of this condition may vary.  For some it can last for months, or years, whilst for some it may last their lifetime.  However, this condition is non-debilitating, non-threatening and non-contagious. Little research has been made for this condition and its cure is yet to be discovered.  For now, anti-histamine medications provide temporary relief.

I left the doctor’s room feeling relieved. It then made sense to me how a scratch, a finger stroke, even my watch, including the creases on my bed sheets, and drops of shower create a pattern of pink-toned stripes on my skin.  After having a more general understanding of my condition, I somehow now learn how to mitigate or at least avoid activities that may trigger my super sensitive skin and over-active histamines.

I went home and tested for myself my new-found “talent”.  I wrote on my skin and a few minutes later, I saw the magic come alive in full glory.  Then it suddenly hit me… My body has a message for me:

1)  The Gift of Writing

According to my doctor whilst it cause may be unknown, stress can be a major triggering factor.  Obviously I am under a lot of stress over the loss of my Munchkin.  Somehow this has left me with emotional and physical trauma. 

When my skin feels that it is under pressure, it unleashes its magical ability to transpose my epidermis in to becoming a landscape for writing.  Just as I have a paper skin, I also have a paper heart.   When I am feeling melancholic, I indulge myself to the pleasure of writing, the same way as how other people would indulge themselves with alcohol, food, or drugs.  Writing is my morphine.  I find relief and solace in writing. 

Along with the flow of tears, comes the flow of words.  Writing enables me to organise and process my thoughts - as these musings, right or wrong, may get jumbled in my mind.  As I write, I also speak to myself - making me understand why I feel what I feel. 

This is why, I write more often in this blog when I am in the throes of depression and sadness.  Writing is my outlet, my therapy.  My blog silence generally means that my life is living its normal happy existence.  However, I realised that as the law of attraction suggests, I need to train myself to write more about happy moments and happy thoughts.  Perhaps I will… Perhaps I will… when I get over this emotional tide… Perhaps I will.

2) The Gift of Uniqueness

Actually, when I come to think of it, my allergy is kinda cool.  Only 5% of us in this world have this unique and incredible ability of having a paper skin.  It can be a good talking and show off point on what makes me unique.  If I just know how to draw I can doodle myself and have a temporary tattoo, with no ink!  Maybe I will learn and practice to draw on my skin.  I heard of an artist who also suffers from this condition, she has capitalised on this gift by creating some artwork on her skin and taking pictures of these drawings to put on display in her art shows.

My paper heart tells me that this experience of knowing and loving Munchkin is a gift of experience. It is a wonderful and unique experience. It is filled with beautiful and loving memories.  Sadly they are all now but memories, only to be immortalised by the carvings and writings left in the galleries of my heart. 

Oh, those sweet precious memories… those sweet precious memories!

3) The Gift of Distinction

My paper skin’s sensors only unleash its mast cells when a distinct pressure is applied.  Not any mere contact can cause the formation of hives. 

My paper heart also acts the same way. It has been six years since I broke up with EX, before I met Munchkin.  But in between those six years, I have been casually going out with an extent of guys.  My housemate teases me that she has lost count of them.  Admittedly some of them even make better match for me than Munchkin. However, my paper heart is searching for that distinction, not present in any men. I do not blog about every single detail about each of those men because to me, it is just casual friendship.  I only reserve a space in my paper heart for those men with strong distinction in my heart.

I personally do not know how my heart works – who it chooses to love and how it feels to love.  I rarely fall in love, but when I do, it is deep and lasting. 

Will I ever fall in love again? … Will I ever?

4) The Gift of Restraint

After a general understanding of my paper skin, I have learned not to scratch and entertain the itching sensation caused by the welts.  Whilst it cannot be avoided, it can be controlled.  I acknowledge the burning and itching feeling but I now restrain myself from scratching.  Because scratching can only aggravate it and possibly flare it up, thus prolonging the agony. 

I need to apply this principle to my paper heart. I hate to tell myself, but I know I have to stop reliving the past and accept that they are all but memories, no matter how beautiful and sweet they were.  I need to stop myself from remembering him, recalling the past and reliving those memories - in order for me to move on.  

Over the weekend, me and my housemate watched a comedy show.  It was funny.  But I cried, instead of laugh.  I imagined how it would be like if Munchkin was there with me watching the show.  It would have been funnier.  I was shaking not because of the giggles, but of the sobs.  Sigh!  I know this has got to stop.  Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.

I need to train and tame my paper heart.  I really need to… I have to.

5) The Gift of Time

If I do not scratch the welts, within 30 minutes to an hour, the etchings on my paper skin will eventually disappear.  And life goes on.

This is a hope for my paper heart.  I do not know how and I do not know when, but only time can behest when my heart will eventually heal itself.  This is a lesson of patience for me.  I can do nothing but to wait.  After all, good things come to those who patiently wait.

I am taking things one day at a time… one day at a time…

Thursday, March 08, 2012

Love Means Letting Go

I promised myself not to go on Facebook for a long while.  But a dire situation prompted me as I needed to send a message to someone at work for the next day's  assignment.  In this age of smart phone technology I do not have her mobile number, guess this shows our level of closeness (But hey, we are Facebook friends).

And while i was in Facebook, I was drawn to my Munchkin's page.  Am I ready for this? ... I tried not to peek his page, but it seems like his page is calling my name.  And so I gave in to the call.

As soon as I opened his page, a thousand daggers dug deep in to my heart.  It feels like a heavy weight has crushed my heart. Suddenly I cannot breathe.  Streams of tears flowed like a spring fountain as I discovered that he has updated his status profile from "in a relationship" to "single".  I still have not changed my status.  At this point, I am still not willing to.

I know we are not together anymore.  However, to me, as long as he keeps his status "in a relationship" (with me of course), it means that like me, he too refuses to let go of us and our relationship.  It was a promise that the situation will soon turn around and that someday there will still be us... no matter how long and winding the path will be, at the end of it all, our lives will still be together as one. It really does not matter when.

The only thing that kept me going is the hope that he will someday come back to me.  His recent update is a declaration that he has decided to move on.  And he is moving on without me. He has now made up his mind and that clearly, he is progressing towards saying goodbye to me and his love for me.  He is putting our love story in the archives of history. I feel hurt, I feel rejected, I feel unwanted, I feel unloved.  He once told me that he is willing to fight for our love.  Why did he have to give up too easy and  too soon?  

I still want to continue the journey with him, but he no longer wants me to be by his side. 

As for me, I still refuse to move on.  I do not want to let go.  I still want to wait for him.  I still hope for his homecoming.  I have been told that I am hoping against hope.  But my heart goes on.  Even as the world thunders for me to "give up now", hope whispers to me, "just wait, give it one more chance."  

Why am I stubborn?  Why do I choose to commit myself in to this?  Why do I keep so much faith in our relationship?

A question was once asked to me, when do I say enough is enough - when it comes to love?  My answer is never.  I believe that a love like this comes once in a lifetime.  And it is something worth fighting for.

However, love should not be selfish. No matter how unwilling am I to let go, it does not mean that I should stop him from doing so.  How dare I say that no one will love him as much as I am loving him?  Love  is not possessive.  Love is setting free.  Love is seeking the best for him.  Love is making him happy.  Love is having the courage to allow him to love again and for him to be loved - even by someone else.