You’re only the best I ever had.

My eyelids are so heavy as I’m typing this, but I feel that today deserves to be archived. So I slept only about four hours last night, probably due to the excitement of seeing X in class and our dinner “date” after.

So mission rescue-him-from-psycho-bitch went fairly well, I made sure that I was by his side the entire time, never leaving him alone with her. In a few weeks, she’d probably suspect or find out why I’m always hanging around him (no one in class knows that we’re friends), but till that day comes, I will do my part for him.

We went for a simple dinner, explored a revamped hotel (NOT the bedrooms lol), and went for some tea and dessert. So other than the three hours we spent in class, our “date” lasted about six hours, including me dropping him off back at home. And then, we spent another three hours texting each other.

That’s how we are. We can still chat non-stop even after eight years, but yet he sees me nothing more than a good friend.

Today, we talked about our friends. He’s only met a couple of mine, and vice versa. And I told him that if he was ever willing to meet more of them, I’d proudly do so because I want to let more people know about this talented, kind, generous person. And he said many people do not think highly of artists in general, often looking down or belittling them, so why would I be eager to show him off? Well, regardless of what people think, I would still be very proud of him. And those people who dare sneer at him, will face my wrath.

What was surprising to hear though, was him saying he only has two friends, myself and his god sister. He went on to tell me that he only texts/chats with his godmother (who has moved back to Paris), her daughter (said god sister) and me. I know he’s exaggerating because sometimes he’s sooo busy on his phone. But he says we are the only people whom he will share his personal life with. My heart must have somersaulted with joy. Reading between the lines (because you know we women love doing that), I feel a bit better knowing that there’s no other women in his life that he’s sharing things with. Of course I have zero right to be jealous, but it kinda alleviates my fears of the presence of another woman.

I also told him a little about my dating history, about these couple of guys who kept on trying despite me saying no. As I was regaling him with these stories, it suddenly hit me. IT’S KARMA! Whatever I did/said to reject those guys, is similar to what he’s doing to me! I was honestly quite mortified. But we did have a good laugh over it.

Yes, our relationship is weird like that. He knows I’m very into him, and he has made his stand clear, and I know it as well. Sometimes we even delve quite deep into it. Just the other day, I told him that I will never hop onto another person’s car (metaphorically) because the only ride I want is his. He told me gently that his car will never accept passengers, and that I should not miss the cars that want to let me hitch a ride. Being stubborn is another wonderful trait of mine as you can see.

This man is my best friend. He’s my soul mate. I love him to pieces even though it’s not reciprocal. And I think, he’s the best I’ll ever have. Have-ish.


Can you keep a secret? Update!

So as you can see, I’ve not been writing for awhile. In between work, working on X’s birthday surprise, exercising and everything else in between, one not had much time for anything else.

My progress has been really slow. I’m now almost halfway through, and with his birthday looming very closely ahead, I worry that I won’t be able to complete it. He made me promise not to buy anything for him this year, so I had to tell him that it’s too late, but his present is already in the midst of being prepared. He has attempted to make a few guesses, but he’s nowhere close.

This project has been great though. It forced me to go back in time, to look back on our past eight years. We had very good times as well as very rough ones, but because this is a birthday present, I decided from the get go that only happy memories should be a part of it. We can always have our disagreements on the side lol. And working on this project just reaffirmed what an amazing person he is. There is really no one else in the world like him (or rather amongst all the people I know). And compiling his present has brought many smiles to my face when I’m reminiscing on our time together.

I also signed up for another of his classes yesterday. This one is to mainly protect him from this psycho bitch who has been relentless stalking him for almost two years even though he has rejected her time and again. Of course, I’ll also be learning a new skill- figure drawing, but my main job is to rescue him from her clutches each week.

In the past eight years, he has given me so much help in every aspect of my life, and he does it willingly without a word of complaint (or at least he’s never voiced it out), so maybe for once, our roles can be reversed and I can be his dame in shining armour.

We have not seen each other since CNY this year (January), so it has been eight months or more. But we are talking almost every day, so I thought I was ok. But after seeing him in the flesh yesterday made me realise how much I miss him. I actually started missing him even before class ended. We didn’t hang out yesterday because he had to meet his colleagues after, but hopefully we’ll be hanging out after class next week.

Re-reading my blog posts from the time I met him made me realise that we really have a lot of ups and downs. Somehow in my mind though, I always thought they were mainly ups. It scared me a little to see how volatile our non-relationship relationship is, but I still love him very very much even though it is as clear as day that we will never be together.

It’s still love even if it means not having his heart right? I miss him everyday, even when I’m with him. He still makes me so happy (and at times very very mad), and he’s still the only one I want to have five-hour conversations with (we still have endless things to talk about even after all these years). I’m sorry you all have to bear with my puke-inducing, sappy thoughts, but it’s the only way I can voice them without freaking him out.

Wait a few weeks more, and I will reveal his present (if you’ve not already guessed what it is)! I really really hope to complete it on time. Godspeed to me.


My great revelation.

I had a major revelation today. It started when my sister came scuttling out of the room saying that there was a baby lizard near her bed. I found a piece of cardboard and told her to use that to whack it. After two loud twacks she came out and confirmed that it was dead, but she did not dare to pick it up and asked me what to do.

I thought about it and decided that I would be able to pick it up using a large wad of tissue paper. After all, it was dead and a baby, so how difficult would it be right?

So I armed myself with the tissue box and crept into the room, which was totally unnecessary because until Lazarus was in the room, that guy did not have a chance at waking up. I moved slowly towards it, saw its carcass with one leg up in the air and that was all it took. I let out a scream and jiggled around hopping while repeating “I can’t do it!” x 45 times. If you only heard me without understanding the context, you’d think someone was forcing me to smother a loved one in their sleep, or making me ride a roller coaster.

So shamefully, we left that lizard lying on the floor till my parents came home. And then it hit me. Eventually when I move out to live on my own, I’d have to face them. And what am I going to do in that situation? Who will pick them up for me? Who is going to save me? Perhaps I should just live with my parents forever.


Can you keep a secret?

Isn’t it strange that now that I’m working from home, I should have tons of extra time on my hands but I’m barely writing? I have no excuses. I’m just lazy. That, plus I’m going for weekly physio sessions for my bad knee so I’m not exactly in the wildest mood.

I just dropped by to let you all know that I’m still alive. And I’m embarking on a secret birthday project for X. His birthday is not until October, but this project is kinda big scale, so I definitely need as much time as I can get. I won’t reveal what it is for now, but it involves my only talent- writing. If anyone reading this disagrees, please just roll your eyes and scoff at me but don’t tell me otherwise. I mean… If I didn’t have this “talent”, then I’d be talentless. And that’s just as good as me taking up oxygen from other people who may need it more. Ok I just made myself sound like a pathetic loser.

So yeah this secret project. I’m not sure if I’ll finish it on time, or regret it halfway but I hope he’ll love it. Or at least like it. When I was thinking of what to get him, this seemed like a perfect idea because he’s so fussy to buy things for. Let’s just hope it’ll turn out the way I want to.

Sorry if this is so anti-climatic. You’ll have to wait till October for the big reveal. And wish me luck. I’ll need lots of it.


Sister act.

My older sister A, is two years older than me. And my two younger siblings, R and S are eight and thirteen years behind me respectively. So you can imagine, that A and I had loads of time together before the others came along.

Perhaps because we’re closer in age, I’m closest to her. And close is an understatement. I was probably more like a leech in her eyes lol, following her everywhere she went. So much so that many friends till this day, are originally hers. I was just kinda absorbed into the group because I was forever in the background.

We have tons of stories to share, and recently, we were just sharing with the rest of the family some of the ridiculous things that we did together. Or rather, what I was made to do.

Being the pack leader, it comes as no surprise that A is the alpha and I was just her minion. I didn’t dare to oppose her till we were much much older. So when I was seven, I kept a diary, and A always wanted to read it. I refused, because a diary contains our secrets and innermost thoughts right? But her being clever (or maybe me not being very smart), she actually managed to get her way. On the pretext of wanting to help me improve my grammar, she told me that she needed to read it. So I stupidly handed it to her. And you know what’s more ridiculous? She actually made corrections with a red pen. To this day when I tell this story, she shamelessly claims credit for it and said that’s why my command of the language is so strong (I scored top marks in our National exams).

We were really like BFFs when we were younger. Probably also because our parents were very lax with us and we were always left to our own devices. We could talk for hours (we still do), and couldn’t bear to halt conversations. There were times when she needed to poop, and asked me to accompany her. Most normal people would most likely pause and continue after, but not us. I would take a little stool and sit outside the toilet while she did her business with the door wide open. If it was smelly, I would just cover my nose. What little inconvenience like smell matter if we were having such a good time right? I need to clarify that we stopped doing that in primary school in case some of you may have misunderstood us.

When we tell these stories, my younger siblings would laugh and call me stupid. I prefer the words naïve and gullible. I have tons more to share, but I could really publish a novel with all these anecdotes. So because of my naïveté, I’m known as not being the sharpest knife in the drawer within my family. But it’s ok, I know my true worth.

I will probably be sharing random stories here and there, let me know if you would like to hear more of my crazy stories. Just promise not to judge me after.


Lost and found.

Back in 2015, I shared about My dog, Spot. For those who can’t be arsed to read, it’s basically about my then-favourite stuffed dog that I believed was real.

To be honest, I can’t exactly remember what happened to Spot, but I always believed that he got thrown away when we moved homes 23 years ago. I don’t know why I’ve never attempted to look for him, but he still remains one of my fondest memories till this day. And I still regale people with my manic behaviour with regards to Spot.

So just two days back, my sister decided to do a massive cleanup of her room and there was some major de-cluttering going on. I was just sitting in the living room, eating some crisps and watching some TV. My younger sister decided to pop in on the mess and randomly brought toys from yesteryear out to show me.

Of course I remembered most of them. They brought back my childhood in an instant. But because I was watching tv, I wasn’t showing my utmost enthusiasm. Also, I’m quite a hoarder, so I tried not to be too involved or I would want to keep everything. And then my dad suddenly popped out from behind my sister holding it.

IT WAS MY DEAREST SPOT! I was so shocked and happy to see him that I immediately started crying after exclaiming “SPOT!!!” My two younger siblings started laughing at me because no one expected such a reaction. I didn’t expect myself to get so emotional too, but it just happened lol.

Every memory of Spot came flooding back to me. From the day my mum presented him to me when I was eight till how I thought him gone from my life forever. My older sister missed my outburst because she was in the toilet but she said it was a waste that she missed it. I’m just glad I had one less spectator to witness that spectacle.

But now, I guess they finally believe how much Spot meant to me. And of course I couldn’t let him be abandoned again. I know I’ll be turning 36 in a few months, but he was a very important part of my childhood, so he’ll be here to stay. He’s currently awaiting his turn to go into the wash, so I don’t have a picture of him, but I promise to show it to you soon.


My name is Peter.

I’m not sure if I ever told you this story (because my brain seems to be getting fuzzier by the day), but you can stop reading if this jolts your memory in any way.

Ever since I was young till this day, I’ve always been called variations of crazy. Some in jest, some seemingly more serious, but my usual reaction to them is just laughing it off maniacally (which some take as a confirmation of me officially being off my rocker).

This is one of my favourite childhood stories to tell because it’s just so ridiculous. I would like to bring you back to when I was just nine years old. My mum till now, had three girls. I’m not sure if her traditional mind was eating at her, or she really wanted a boy, but one day, she woke up and decided that I needed to cut my hair just like a boy.

My dad was working overseas at that time in a neighbouring country, and only returned home on weekends. When my mum told him of her decision, he tried to stop her, but let’s just say my mum can be really demanding at times (read: unreasonable). I cried of course when she broke the news to me. I tried to protest but as if she was going to back down. So the day came and she marched me down to the hairdresser’s with me still trying to make a futile attempt to stop her.

She not only ordered the guy to chop my hair off, but to even give me a “slope” at the back. That meant shaving the back off till there was no hair left to even pull. Even the hairdresser was hesitant, but mother dearest was so set in her ways not even an army of giants could stop her.

I entered the salon as Sabrina, and left as Sebastian.

I’m not kidding you. That’s what my mother started calling me gleefully. Luckily for me, I don’t have any recollection of being bullied or taunted in school (I may have erased it from my memory though) for looking like a boy. My father, I could tell, as he came home that weekend, looked extremely sad but reassuring me that I still looked beautiful.

And here comes the ironic bit. From vehemently protesting and crying, I became beyond accepting. One day I woke up, and suddenly decided that I would be Peter. No idea why I chose that name from so many other options, but I made everyone at home call me Peter. I couldn’t have done that in school because teachers would be very concerned for sure. I even went as far as not responding to my name, pretending that Sabrina was a stranger. I also suddenly stopped wearing skirts and dresses, and decided that I liked girls instead.

This lasted for about a whole year and surprisingly no one seemed concerned (to me at least). Not sure if people just thought I was going through a phase or just bring my usual mad self. And just as quickly as Peter came, “he” disappeared one morning when I woke up. Just like that. And suddenly I was accepting of “girly” clothes again, though I went through a transitional androgynous phase before becoming a girl again.

My friends are very tickled when I share this with them. I actually discussed this with my older sister and asked her why she hardly reacted at all. She just said I could be whoever I wanted to be because it’s my choice and my life. Wow. Such forward and mature thinking for someone just two years older. But she did add on that I was weird all my life, and that nothing surprised her anymore lol.

My mother till this day, insists that it was a lovely haircut. It was not. From the front (and I have pictures to prove it), it looks like someone put a fucking bowl on my head and cut it.

And I have one more confession. Do you know why despite me crying that I went down without a fight? Because I was suffering from my middle child syndrome and craves love, affection and affirmation from my mother that I would do anything to please her. You have no idea how many “you’re such a good girl” praises I received from her for days following the horrible haircut.

Sometimes, I’m quite amazed that I grew up “normal” and not needing any form of therapy. But maybe I should consider it. I have people telling me that I may have undiagnosed conditions like autism even in adulthood.

I think I’m pretty normal to be honest. Perhaps a bit quirky (read: weird) at times, but hey, the world needs people like us, otherwise how boring would it be? Right?


How did we end up here?

And I was right. The number of positive cases had not gone down, in fact we’re seeing an average of 700+ cases a day. And our circuit breaker has been extended till 1 June. I think it may get extended again because there are still tons of idiots out there who cannot stay the fuck at home.

Other than my three medical appointments, I basically have not stepped out of the house since mid March. I’m really quite impressed by myself. I miss my friends, but I think I’m actually a homebody deep down.

And speaking of deep down, in this couple of months, because I’ve had tons of time to myself, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. In some cases, over-thinking. In early March, just a few months after X and me made up and stopped our cold war, we had a massive argument again. Without boring you with the details, I said that he always takes me for granted, and of course, he vehemently denied doing so. And I was soooooo mad because he’s a stubborn fool. I mean, I can be quite obstinate myself, but he never, and I mean NEVER backs down from what he believes in. Good on him for standing by his morals but I would like to say he is not always right.

We have since made up (again), but are you all sick of us yet? Lol. But I feel a difference after this fight. We usually go back to normal after a fight, but somehow this time, something feels different. I just feel that there’s this barrier now that never existed, and we’re being extra polite to each other. Our conversations have also dwindled greatly. We don’t talk everyday now, and most times we’re talking about the fucking weather. How stranger-like is this???

You know, honestly a part of me died when we fought. He obviously takes me for granted and yet he denies it and makes it sound like I’m the crazy one. He’s never in the wrong. It’s always me being unreasonable or asking for too much. And then I felt so tired suddenly. Eight years is a long time. Eight years of waiting for something that never comes to fruition is quite exhausting. And that part of me that died will never come back. The only silver lining is that I generally am caring less about him and his life. I don’t even ask about how he’s doing these days, or tell him everything like I used to do. I think I’m finally coming to terms that we will never progress further than this.

I do feel sad sometimes, but no one around me is rooting for us anyway. So it’s like I’m fighting a lonely and losing battle.

Maybe it’d be nice to start dating someone else. Not to spite him (because he said he’d wish me all the best), but to just move on from him. But on the other hand, I don’t really see the point in dating since marriage and having kids are not in my life plans. It’d just be a waste of everybody’s time and feelings.

I don’t know. Like I said, perhaps I’ve had too much time on my hands to over-think. Gosh I’m such a depressing person. I didn’t plan to start or end this post like this. Let me think of a list of other things to share with you all next time.


This too, will pass.

I should have a lot of time on my hands because I’ve been working from home since forever. But I seem to be even busier than usual.

So obviously because of my job nature as a pharmaceutical sales rep, we’ve been wfh longer than the usual person because we were banned from visiting hospitals and clinics much earlier. But perhaps my company feel that we should not get paid for twiddling our thumbs, they’ve come up with many ridiculous things for us to do.

It’s all boring stuff so I shall spare you the details but let’s just say I’m dying to go back to work. Our government has decided to put us in this thing they call the circuit breaker. In my opinion, it is just a fancy name for a semi-lockdown. And yet there are still many idiots roaming the streets. It’s supposed to run till 4th of May, but with the alarming rise in positive cases day by day, I say we might only get to see the light of freedom in June or so.

And because I can’t even go for boxing classes, and all I’m doing all day is eating and sitting around, the kilos have caught up with me I’m sure. So my sister and I decided to get our fat asses moving, and we’re doing home workouts three times a week in our corridor. I do not have high hopes of losing weight, but I sure hope I don’t pile on any more pounds.

A part of me is extremely paranoid. When I get an itchy throat or feel a cough coming I’m like holy shit this is it. And then I’m afraid I’ll pass it on to my parents who are considered the vulnerable age group. Actually, I myself am vulnerable. Because fucking diabetes puts you at high risk for every shit thing on this planet. Thanks.

There is absolutely no point to this post. My body clock is still screwed. But I just wanted to let you all know that I’m still alive (just in case anyone is wondering). This pandemic is affecting almost every corner of the world, so I hope all of you are keeping well and good. I know many of you are in home quarantine too, but I hope no one goes insane from cabin fever. This too, shall pass.


Dear X.

Because my job requires me to visit hospitals and clinics on a daily basis, and because of the Corona virus being so rampant where I am, our company declared that wet should all work from home this week.

And so, because I have quite a lot of time on my hands, and therefore had many quiet moments to reflect and think, here goes…

Dear X,

I don’t think you fully understand how much I [x] you. It’s actually scary when I think about it. How, and when, did I, Miss-independent-I-don’t-need-anyone, fall so hard for you? You’re not the most handsome, nor are you the most well-built (notice all the physical attributes because I’m shallow like that hahaha), in fact, according to my list of what makes an ideal man, I’m sorry, but you actually don’t fit into any boxes.

Not to say you’re like Quasimodo, but I think I know why. I like the gentle way you articulate, it soothes me even when I’m raging. I like your quiet ways when you think, and love the way you make me laugh with the ridiculous things you sometimes say or do. I love the kindness in your eyes. Have I ever told you that you’re probably the kindest person I know? Your caring nature makes me feel like I’m never alone, even when it seems like the world and her mother are against me.

I cannot say you’re perfect. There’s many things I hate about you too. I hate how you seem to have me wrapped around your little finger. You keep telling me you want to be alone, yet do all these things that make my heart turn back each time I decide that perhaps it’s time to walk away. I don’t like it when you seem to make me jealous on purpose, knowing that I get jealous easily. But I have no right to, right? And what I hate most about you is you trying to push me away, telling me that I’m better off without you.

I’m not. I won’t be. That five months that we were not talking gave me physical and mental anguish. How can I be better off without you when I cannot do without you? Don’t tell me you feel nothing for me when our normal, daily conversations span three hours, and we can literally talk through the night without sleeping for 10 hours.

And that’s why I’m so mad at myself. How did I become so reliant on one person? My mood soars and dips according to our daily conversations. This is not right. This almost eight years, even though sometimes fraught with anguish, has brought me immeasurable joy.

And even though I know this relationship is quite toxic (I mean I’m not stupid, I can see the warning signs too), I still stand by what I always say. I will always be your biggest fan and supporter. I will always be around when you need me. I will finish everything you feed me, even if you boiled rocks for soup. And as much as I hate myself for saying this, I think I will wait for you forever even though you don’t want me to.