The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

One Two Three

Three people I really had to write about, as well as three reasons why I am as emotionally unstable as I am right now. I hope all three of you read this. Was talking to Nadiah the other day and she asked me about the people that I truly love. These are all three of them. I constantly feel ignored by them, and awkward around them, and feel like killing them but at the end of the day, these people have/had my back and for whatever it was they have contributed to my life, I fell in love with them. 
I’ve been realizing that we all have dreams but we can’t always have what we want. Sometimes we can’t have what we want the most, but we can have everything else. Sometimes we have what other people want the most, and they have what we want. Sometimes all the wishes and achievements are shuffled in the world like a deck of cards thrown at us all randomly in a drunk poker game. You have the cards that others need, and they have the cards that you want. And you might think that it’s the dealer’s fault, that fate was wasted, but we’re all drunk too, with a desire to win for once. This will be it - we tell ourselves at each round, at each new morning. I Read Into Things.

It has become a force of habit for me to extend my hand, smile a proper smile and introduce myself to everyone who was wiling to listen. But it was all for the spirit of things. It was a new year and a new dawn to a new life, with a chapter of memories a safe distance behind me and all I wanted was to start up an entirely new book of acquaintances. 

So I said 'hi', offered my hand and told you my name and I never expected you to remember anything about me. In retrospect, it was stupid of me to do so. I had just wanted the attention, even for just a few minutes. You still took my hand, introduced yourself and smiled. Common courtesy. 

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I spent the rest of the night trying to remember your name. I've never heard it anywhere before except for maybe in one of the books I have read. A mutual friend of ours told me what little she knew of you and I gave her my full attention. Because you sounded interesting, you sounded like someone I had always wanted to be friends with. Before, I had dreamed of the perfect best friend to just walk into school one day with Harry Potter stationary and ring-binders and sit down next to me. 

Even before I properly met you, I knew we wouldn't be friends, though. There was something about you that was just too eerily similar to who I was. And then I found out more about you over the months and just like that I was pretty convinced: we weren't meant to be friends. I was right, of course. 


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I've liked a lot of people before I met you. The evolution of my feelings for people were never properly charted out. There has always just been a moment when I looked at the person and thought to myself, "Oh, wow, I think I like him." I've never really had to stop and think about it when it concerned you because I've always known. 

From the very beginning right on till the very end, which hasn't come yet, not today. The only difference between you and everyone else was that I never once tried to flirt with you. You should see me at eleven, trying to get somebody's attention during Monday assembly in the hall. You should see me at twelve, falling down with each step I take in front of the person I had a crush on. You should see me at thirteen and fourteen, practicing my flirting on anyone I decided deserved the attention. It both makes me happy and extremely uncomfortable that I never did anything to get to you.

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I still remember our first conversation in the school canteen and it didn't bother me one bit that it oddly didn't center around either of us. Neither of us started the conversation and, really, if someone else hadn't been there, we wouldn't even have talked in the first place, regardless of the fact that we both knew each other's names. 

I wanted to get to know you because of who you were. I realize now that it's unfair to say that because that's all everybody really wanted. It still stands true today, though.

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The first conversation we ever had was about music. It was the first time I ever really thought about music in the way I constantly think about it now. You literally opened all the blinds for me. 

Maybe I learned how to play the guitar because of you. I still can't remember that part of my life. Obviously I was confused but I didn't realize at the time that I my confusion could be directly connected to you. 


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I wasn't talking to you at the time. I was talking to other people. But then you just sort of butted into the conversation and told me, "You're funny."

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Going to the bathroom in malls when you're out with friends is very awkward business. For one thing, I can't ever be sure if they would pull one of the meanest prank ever and leave me there on my own. For another thing, reception can be a bitch in there and you might not get to them when you try to call. So needless to say I was relieved to see you still waiting for me outside. 

First time being alone with you all day. We had absolutely nothing to say. The next few minutes were agony. 

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When you confirmed my suspicions, all I could do was stare at you. For a really long time. 

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The funny is that we never really run out of things to talk about. Ever. That was why the hollow silence on the other end of the line was the most awkward thing I've ever heard in my entire life. I wanted to throw up and I wanted to jump out of a window or something but I settled for a joke instead. It did nothing to lighten the mood but the next day, you still replied to my texts and that meant the world to me. 

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I was alone and I was sitting in the very next room. I could hear everything you did, every strum of strings. The sounds echoed off of the walls and ricocheted around in my brain. I just wanted to get out of there. 

Because I knew that what went on before this wasn't real. It was all about you. But now that whatever it was I had felt was coming back, stronger than before, I knew that it wasn't just about you. I didn't like you because of you, I liked you because I had just accidentally fallen in love. 

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Your hands hovered uncertainly over the piano and I was staring you down. "Hit it. Hit it. I know you can." You kept pushing me and pushing me and I pushed back, knowing full well that it would make you angrier with me than you already were. 

That was probably the first time I ever felt something for you. Well, looking back, maybe it wasn't the first time, but it was certainly the first time I had acknowledged it. 

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Third time's the charm. I knew I had somehow developed a crush on you the third time you said my name out loud.

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I stood over the offending piece of furniture and started yelling: "You know what, when I get a kid in the future, I'm going to tell them, 'You don't have to be smart, or pretty, or good at anything really, all you have to do is be popular and then everything will just be given to you, handed over-" 

"Don't scream at the couch like that!" 

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Deleting the account was the only thing I could think of. I didn't want to hurt myself anymore than I already had. At the end of the day, I hope you realized that the only reason we would never work is because we're both too self-absorbed to care about anyone other than ourselves. 

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She called me everyday and I texted her between the hours and not a day goes by in which I didn't need her. And on the other end of the spectrum, there's you. I tried my hardest to spend as much time with you as possible but the fact of the matter is that there were too many people in my life, I just didn't have enough time for you. 

So I guess it came as no surprise to everyone when I saw you for the first time in what felt like an eternity and all I wanted to do was be with her instead. It really does make sense. And I really am sorry. 

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I thought I had given up on you too many times to count. I thought I had shot down and dashed all hope for all of time whenever you seemingly ignore me. It doesn't matter, though, because I can try to convince myself of whatever I want but what I feel for you remains. 

It'll go away soon. 

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After half a year of not talking to you, it had really become sort of a habit but when the whole fiasco at school brought me abruptly to a reality I wasn't willing to face, you were the only person I knew I could count on. Over time, I've learned to cope with having you in my life because it's sort of like living in a burning building. No oxygen, really hot and I can't seem to see where I'm going at all. 

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I understood everything when I saw her smiling face. I am never going to get over you. Some days I like you and some days I don't but I will always love you. 

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I fell in love with you when you told me you had bad news to share. It's always never been a question: it's not because there's no way it could happen, it's just because you don't want it like I do. Whatever we were, we weren't meant to be. 

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I fell in love with you when quite recently. The great thing is that I don't feel the pressure of doing anything at all about it. I can tell you my problems and you will listen and for the moment, I'm content. 

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I'm falling in love with you. I don't think it's over yet, do you? 

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