Sunday, December 23, 2012
I haven't been posting anything substantial because it seems like I've run out of things to say. It's a rather disturbing feeling because I do actually have a lot running through my mind but somehow that's all there is to it – everything just stays inside.
I've thought long and hard about writing about this. At first I thought writing about it would be good, because for years writing has been a source of comfort for me, it's like I force myself not to cry too much and I have the emotions flood through my fingers instead haha. The year is almost over soon and I guess I want to write this because I want some kind of peace. I don't want this turmoil anymore – it is like a poison surging through my bloodstream, eating away at me like a cancer. Hopefully by writing this I'll be able to purge this toxicity.
Whether or not I will publish this remains another matter – I might, or I might not, or I might post it and then regret it and then remove it. We shall see when I finish this post.
And I guess what I seek is closure. But isn't it ironic how it is through disclosure that I am trying to get there? Somehow the word seems apt here. The prefix "dis-" usually has a negative connotation, and often has to do with the taking apart/away of something, or as dictionary.com says, "having a privative, negative, or reversing force". Very often with closure, we have to come to terms with ourselves, be completely honest with how we feel, before we can make peace with ourselves and let go. I guess, then, closure can never come without disclosure – the stripping away of defenses we put up out of anger, bitterness, sadness or disappointment. I hope I can let this go real soon. Here we go.
I hate you. I really, really, hate you. It has been a long time since I can seriously say that I hate someone, I think the last time I felt this way towards someone was more than a year ago but I look back on that now and laugh because I know I was childish then. But with you, it's complex. I don't claim to be the most mature person around, but definitely an older soul than most people around me even though I'm younger than almost everybody else. And I've grown a lot in the past year or two. It's almost as if this is harder to let go of because my reasons for this hatred are well-founded and valid this time round. I have legit reasons to hate you but I know if I want to be a better person, the way I should be thinking is that "there should be no reason at all for any hate". And this I know. Which makes it all the more frustrating because it's a battle of logic and emotion. And I don't even know which side I'm on.
When I scoff scornfully about you or diss you in my conversations with my friends, I can feel a sense of incredulity in their reactions. They don't understand. When I tell them that I hate you and that I am so mad at you, they sometimes laugh as if to say, "Why can't you let it go?" But they're contrite enough to not chastise me – they sympathize and agree with me enough to bitch along with me about you, but not enough to dislike you the way I do. I understand where they're coming from. But they don't know why I feel so strongly about this. The more I think about this, the more I'm shaking in anger. Nobody has elicited this kind of reaction from me before.
And you, throughout the time I've had the "pleasure" of spending with you, you have elicited from me reactions that I had never known I had in me. In an ironic twist, I grew out of the whole episode a stronger person. I wish I could say that alone suffices for me to cede my resentment, but no, I cannot let this go (yet).
You live your life scot-free, wallowing in self-pity because you can, telling me that you'll keep me "in your prayers", as if that makes you the better person, and I the petty and unreasonable one. What is this injustice? Yes, perhaps I am petty for not letting this go. But even YOU, the arsonist that ignited this flame of fury, YOU don't even know what you did. You don't even know why I feel the way I do. And you know why? That's because you are fucked up.
But I can't blame you for being fucked up because it's not entirely your fault. But you think you're, oh, just about the most perfect person on Earth, WHICH MAKES IT INFINITELY MORE FRUSTRATING. It's like Blonde-and-Racist Hanna – I asked Michelle, "Is it offensive if I tell Blonde Hanna, 'I don't blame you for being racist, that's because I know your parents are racist too and that's the way you're brought up, which is why you're racist, so I don't blame you for being racist because it's not your fault per se'?" Michelle laughed and said that yes, it is offensive (I had guessed as much). BUT what I don't understand is – if it is the truth, then why is it still considered offensive?
Ok I digressed a little back there, but let's get back to the point. When I had initially thought of writing this post, I had thought of shaming you by explicitly detailing how fucked up you are, and all the things you did that left me like this. I have no idea if I'm going to do that, I still feel a little apprehensive because I know of the consequences. But if closure supposes complete disclosure – remember, we're talking about being honest with yourself here – why should I not write about it?
Let's not even go into the fights yet. Did you really think I had no idea what you were doing behind my back? Did you think you could outsmart and deceive me JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE OLDER THAN I AM? BECAUSE YOU FELT YOU WERE MORE MATURE? DID THAT GIVE YOU SOME SENSE OF SELF-ENTITLEMENT? You were WRONG. Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? I knew every single thing you did, there is a reason why I have REAL friends and YOU DON'T. Friends that, I might add, stuck by me throughout the time you emotionally abused me. You make me sick.
And I bet you don't even understand what you did. You made me believe I was a bad person. You made me feel so small, you made me doubt my morals and beliefs. You belittled me and hurt me time and again when I always... Tried.... To be there for you.
I have never cooked anyone porridge and rushed to take a cab – AT PEAK HOUR, I WOULD LIKE TO ADD – to deliver it to him/her. I am ashamed that the first person I did this for, is you. You were not worthy of this honor.
I have never been at anyone's beck and call, have never had to give up my personal time unless it was for pressing matters. You made me fly to you time and again, or stay with you longer than I could when I had other things to attend to. Get a life – the whole world does not revolve around you.
I have never been shouted or yelled at for no good reason – except (sometimes) my parents and my secondary school P.E. HOD Teo Eikman HAHAHA but let's not go there – but THAT'S WHAT YOU DID. When you shouted at me – in public, do you even know how mortifying that was – something in me snapped and I am not trying to be dramatic when I say that I was heavily traumatized. Did you know that for days after that I didn't feel like doing anything? That I couldn't get to sleep that whole weekend? When you were banging your head on one of those poles that held up the rain shelter... Did you even think for a moment how that would make me feel? I was so scared you were going to hit me wtf. Honestly, if you turn out to be a wife-beater, I won't be surprised. You have all the makings.
And still I had to be there constantly cajoling you, smoothing over disputes with sugar-coated words, appeasing you with things you liked to hear even though it wasn't necessarily the complete truth just so you could feel good about yourself (and everyone knows how I hate that, everyone knows how much I detest lying like that). For you, I did above and beyond what I have ever done for anybody IN MY LIFE, all because I allowed you to convince me that I was the one with the problem.
Looking back, how could I ever have thought that way? No matter what I did, it was never enough. "You're not sweet at all", "Can you do more things to show that you care?", "Why you so guailan?", "I didn't want to tell you this, but you are damn selfish", "Sometimes I think to myself, 'Why is this bitch so fucking calculative?'", "Why didn't you use an emoji or 'haha' in your text? You not happy is it?"... OH SHUT THE FUCK UP. I hate you for saying all those things to me. Even though I now know that you were all wrong about me, that your grievances about me were untrue, all the things you said still run through my head. Sometimes I still lapse and wonder if you were right. And then I annoy my friends by asking them, "Do you all think I'm selfish?" or "Am I very calculative?" It is their reassurances that have allowed me to collect myself.
Lol k my anger has drained my energy for now I shall continue this next time.
Oh by the way, I am in Rome now.
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