My friend is grieving. When I was grieving, I thought I’d try to encourage myself like I’d encourage someone. I’d cheer myself on, force a smile and hold it there for 10 seconds, and tell myself that I’ll be alright. It was only after I decided that I needed to experience the full depth of my sorrow that I began to feel better. That came with bouts of crying due to the awful, unbearable pain, crippling self doubt and utter disgust at myself. I even resorted to medicinal chocolate (and chocolate cake) until I contemplated joining Overeaters Anonymous.
So when people talk about love and marriage, I immediately feel as ignorant as if I were thrown into the 87th Plenary Conference on Quantum Physics and Supersonics. But despite the “weird” nature of my past “relationships”, I do know the difference between love and care and flattered fancy. Attraction is often real, but affection not (at best fleeting, and at worst feigned). I’ve seen two people pretending to be just friends, but would do anything for/with the other. And two people pretending to be a couple with a wall of jealousy, contempt and distrust between them, which eventually gets so high until nobody can hear what’s going on at the other side. Sad, but not yet tragic.
Some days I feel there’re only two places I can find love – Cambridge and Singapore. Perhaps if I could stay in either those places, I’d find a guy willing to spend nights discussing my daily epiphanies, who would celebrate each anniversary with me with a toast to “many more blissful years to come”. We’d join the world in ring-shopping and hunnymooning. We’d be idealists, and even if our castles in the air crumble, at least we wouldn’t be alone picking up the pieces. Alas, those places have almost already become hazy childhood memories. Now, that’s tres tres tragic.
So when people talk about love and marriage, I immediately feel as ignorant as if I were thrown into the 87th Plenary Conference on Quantum Physics and Supersonics. But despite the “weird” nature of my past “relationships”, I do know the difference between love and care and flattered fancy. Attraction is often real, but affection not (at best fleeting, and at worst feigned). I’ve seen two people pretending to be just friends, but would do anything for/with the other. And two people pretending to be a couple with a wall of jealousy, contempt and distrust between them, which eventually gets so high until nobody can hear what’s going on at the other side. Sad, but not yet tragic.
Some days I feel there’re only two places I can find love – Cambridge and Singapore. Perhaps if I could stay in either those places, I’d find a guy willing to spend nights discussing my daily epiphanies, who would celebrate each anniversary with me with a toast to “many more blissful years to come”. We’d join the world in ring-shopping and hunnymooning. We’d be idealists, and even if our castles in the air crumble, at least we wouldn’t be alone picking up the pieces. Alas, those places have almost already become hazy childhood memories. Now, that’s tres tres tragic.