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.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Stage Seven

When I think of the future, I think of specific things. What I would be doing, where I would be and my relationship with my family and the people around me, and naturally, that extends to my friendships with certain people. There were only two people I couldn't imagine living my life without, and I don't know why these past few weeks have been so stupid, but now that's gone.

I'm not saying it's true, I'm not saying I literally can't live without you, but what derailed everything so badly that I end up here, with absolutely no clue where to go from here. Obviously there is only up, since I've apparently reached what people have aptly named rock bottom. And here's a secret I'd like to share: I still plan the future as if there is an 'us', as if we're still friends, as if everything that's happening right now will get swept under the rug and forgotten about, all in due time. But it's different now, isn't it? For one thing, there literally will be no 'you' next year and I will be stuck here, finishing Form 5 at this Godawful school with people who suck really bad and I won't even have a best friend to go through it with because it's different now, isn't it? There is no anger behind what we're doing, no force compelling us to avoid, simply to forget and erase a part of our lives that was so big, it was groundbreaking. There is no feeling of 'there will be an end to this' like with every single fight I've ever had with someone, there is simply darkness. Curtains closing, a lone player stepping out to take a bow in front of an empty audience.

I still have the same people around me, supportive if not ignorant, kind it not blind. And you're still you, living your daily life and I'm still living mine. We forget, often, that the littlest things can hurt people, even if they don't admit to it, or show it, and when it collects, when resentment is bottled up, it erupts, not with a bang but with a whimper, leaving a quiet cloud of dust in its wake. So it dies, and we ignore it for as long as possible until we look at each and realize, I don't know you anymore. Maybe because you're hurt me so much, maybe because we have each refused to acknowledge how much we're hurting, and maybe because there is a time limit to everything we do and everything we are.

It's hard to remember that things used to be different. You had a life before me, and you can return to it now, slowly but surely, and I can only hope, painfully.

So when I think of the future, it is unfortunate that you're still in it, because we've been intertwined for so long, it's hard to erase that. If I'm easy to get rid of, sweeping up all the remnants of memories under a rug, then that's good for you. I'll offer you a smile if I was capable of forming one.

Both of you.

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