Time often passes by us in what feels like bursts of wind. It sweeps up everything around us in a kind of blind rush, moving and eroding patterns before we can catch our bearings. By the time it has passed — a month, a year, a relationship — it’s hard to even tell what has actually happened. And it isn’t until things have settled back down, into a place where they can be recognized and counted, that we start to feel the full weight of what has changed. Time with you was a burst of wind, and when I think of it, from memory alone I want to pull my sweater tighter around me.

I can’t say exactly what makes certain people more difficult than others, but there are undeniably those we love who refuse to fit into any shape we could possibly cut out for them. Their whole being seems frustrating, elusive, incompatible. And with you, there was always a palpable difficulty. I was a child again, playing with my wooden block toys, attempting to insert a triangle block into a square-shaped cut-out. It never fit, and yet I didn’t possess the perspective or the self-confidence to understand that the shapes simply didn’t coincide. For so long, I wondered what I was doing wrong, trying over and over again to make the impossible happen.

You taught me many things about myself, about what it means to love and care even in the face of cold indifference. There were glimpses of compassion and understanding, sure, but I have no doubts as to the dynamics of our interactions. I was always chasing, and you barely had to move to stay out of my reach. Those moments of affection, without which the whole ordeal would have seemed worthless, became like tiny flecks of gold found in near-endless piles of soot and rubble. If I could only keep digging, I thought, I would eventually uncover something beautiful — something I needed to believe existed between us.

I never did, of course. There was never a deeper level to our story than what you allowed on the surface. In that way, I admit that you were decent. You were up-front, and never explicitly promised more than you would ultimately be prepared to give. It was almost entirely me, weaving elaborate tapestries of double-speak and hidden meanings that spelled out only the things I wanted to hear. There was nothing I couldn’t misinterpret for my own desire, my own need to be needed by someone in whom I invested so deeply.

But the wind blew past us, the summer over more quickly than I’d ever seen one go before. There was a moment we were sitting on a porch, listening to cicadas and talking about keeping in touch, and then it was gone. Our hands were touching, and then they weren’t. If I had known that moment would be over so soon, I would have probably said goodbye then. I would have liked to go out with a little dignity, a little closure — not drawn out over months of barely speaking, of me attaining perpetually higher limits of humiliation in my refusal to accept the truth. To have confronted your unavailability head-on would have been a ripping off of the emotional band-aid, one I onlythought I wanted to spend the cool autumn months gently tugging at.

We didn’t speak; we didn’t keep in touch. For a long time, I remained convinced that this period of distance was a strange emotional coma from which you would suddenly awake. You would tell me that you were sorry to have been so weird, that you had always loved me, that I had always been right. I suppose I have watched enough movies in my life to believe that no story, if unsatisfying, is ever at its very end. The tiny flame of hope that this may all have been a petulant phase in your otherwise limitless capacity for love and understanding was perhaps more painful than the harsh finality of your disinterest. To keep grasping at ever-slimmer chances of a happy ending was frustrating, and then ridiculous, and then profoundly sad. I would have liked to just go straight to sad.

After our time flew past me, the passing of months and years became more soft, more understandable. Time once again resembled the lazy river that it had always been, not catching me in its refusal to slow down and let me breathe. The months turned into years, and every last bit of dust from our strange little hurricane had settled. My thoughts of us had become — have become — tiny vignettes that pass in front of my eyes only when faced with a direct reference to you. And they no longer carry a sting, or a turn of the stomach, or even a remote desire to reach out. Life is better (as I had always imagined it might be) when I am surrounded by people of whose love I am completely sure.

I will not forget you, though. I don’t think that you particularly deserve my memory, nor do I flatter myself into believing that you return my sense of vague wistfulness. There is no part of me that wants to return to the limbo I existed in for so long, or even the often-imagined parallel universe in which you reciprocated my feelings to the letter. I do, however, want to remember what it feels like to be hurt, to want, to need something so desperately only to find out that your life is perfectly fine without it. As much as the little scar on my knee will always remind me to watch out when I am running, yours on my heart will teach me to be kind. Because I know what it feels like to be cast aside with indifference, and I know that it’s a pain from which the body itself takes a long time to recover. You will live in my mind as a cautionary tale, a fable of how much damage words can do — especially when they are insincere. And though I am not nostalgic for what we did have, I am hopeful about life being filled with everything we didn’t.


6 Things I Learned As A Girl Who Has Basically Everything

“Perhaps because I know they(my parents” will be there to catch me when I fall, I’ve developed a fear of trying.”

Thought Catalog

I’m privileged.

When I was 14, I went to Paris for the first time. My parents paid for my entire undergraduate education at an expensive private school. I still owe my Mom thousands of dollars for all the traveling I did when I studied in Rome. This isn’t to say I’m entitled. I am incredibly grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given. My parents came to America in their late teens with a smaller suitcase than I would use for a weekend getaway. Both put themselves through college and beyond. Their hard work and support however, gave me a luxury – the opportunity to be anxious and disillusioned.

Perhaps because I know they will be there to catch me when I fall, I’ve developed a fear of trying. It’s pretty cowardly if you think about it.  I frequently open 40 Safari tabs of jobs I’m going to apply for…later. I…

View original post 1,153 more words


Come back again

I am extremely exhausted from studying. I’ve never studied so much in my life before, I am not even kidding.. All these headaches, pimples, weight gain problems are bugging me so much because of the stress that I am feeling. I am nothing but just really tired from studying day after day since last Saturday.. I’ll be over tmr, before noon and I cannot be anymore excited. But for now, I am getting these headaches and urge to indulge with food.

I’ll blog again, please come back tomorrow night or something!



The 10 Unchanging Pillars Of A Happy Life

Thought Catalog

1. The ability to deal with issues head-on. Most often, the universe will work things out for you, but it’s still your responsibility to deal with the residual aftermath. You can ignore it and wish it away for years, but they will always boil to the surface eventually. Learn to embrace your issues as they come, deal with them appropriately, and move on, or you’ll be fighting with them forever.

2. The recognition that you are not the narration in your mind, but you are the one who hears it. The ability to differentiate your mind from your soul. Your racing, irrational thoughts are a by-product of the machine that you use to comprehend and “control” your human life. This is not who you are. You are the person who reacts to what your mind is saying.

3. The ability to find joy in what is, not what could possibly…

View original post 522 more words


A Simple Lesson: Listen To Your Problems, Don’t Run Away From Them

Thought Catalog

I never believed much in “signs”. Maybe it’s because I never received one, or looked for one to be honest. But I got one last night, at least that’s what I think it was. It was either that or a wicked slap in the face.

A distant, acquaintance I guess you could call him, who I haven’t spoken to in months, somehow got me to listen. He made a point that my closest friends have tried to make for so long. I don’t know if I needed to hear it from someone else, someone who didn’t know everything about my life, but for whatever reason, he got through to me.

It’s a simple lesson: listen to your problems instead of running away from them. Stop pretending like you don’t care and start taking responsibility for your emotions. Respect them and pay attention to them before they lead you into a…

View original post 472 more words


“Circumstances create a man”

As usual, I’ve wasted my holidays and weekends away merely because I am lazy haha. Here are some photos and updates….


My friend gave me some cool and kick ass stickers and I’ve pasted some on my laptop and at the back of my iphone (refers to instagram picture). Stay Real is a taiwan and tokyo fashion by a Mayday band member and I really want a coke tee cause it’s real cute but I dont think any stores in Singapore actually carries them.. 😦


Stylenanda’s lipgloss that I’ve ordered from WJ and it’s really really really pretty!!! I am super impress and happy cause it gives my lips a great outline and it feels very mosturized instead of sticky and gross! For sure I will buy more of them in future and I hope YL RX and WQ will like them as much as I do too 🙂


I took a brisk walk earlier on (and got a huge blister), from my house to the back of kovan and then to serangoon and head home. I walked past our house-to-be and decided to took a photo of it for my dad to see the progress. It is in between on Kovan and Serangoon and surrounded by restaurants serving different cuisines and a bar is located just at the doorstep. I am excited! heheImage

Dad got me one lavender lotion for me to sleep better because recently he has been obsessed with aromatherapy. He splurg on the ceramic diffuser, lotions, body wish and even got a variety of essence oil for different moods (hahaha)


I’ve stumbled upon a chinese talk show called Money Week and I actually stayed up to watch it (most of the time I only watch TLC haha)! The main reason why I watched t is because the episode is about breads (I LOVE all kind of breads) and secondly because they interviewed the founder of Bread Talk-George Quek, about his road to success. What I’ve take away from the interview with George Quek was that there will always be failures on the way but it is the failures that you learn from. I am really impressed by him! I mean, lets be honest, very few Singapore brands have made their way overseas and Mr Quek not just made it overseas, but also, he managed to attract people from different culture and countries to enjoy chinese cuisine(din tai fung) and just bread. This feeling and amazement is so hard to be expressed in words… but all in all, I am really impressed and I’ll definitely learn from him!

If you are interested to watch the interview, the video is on Money Week’s facebook page! https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=559746834085958 

I hope it will inspire you like how it did to me 🙂 and have a good Sunday ahead! 🙂