Diary Lies

Dear Diary

C is my husband. You know it already. And you also know that he does not like to make love to me. And when he does, it feels like paying rent or fulfilling an assignment.

I know he loves me. He does. And I love him too.

What is the definition of love? It's a highly complex question but there is a simple answer. Love has different forms and each form suits different people. I have been through many forms of love, the painful ones, the lusty ones, the unrequited ones. And at this stage I want a lukewarm-water-like love.

Comfortable. Not intimidating.

Compassionate. Not passionate.

Someone asked me “How do you know if he is not fucking around like you do?”

I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss. It will hurt me so much knowing that he enjoys fucking other people then making love to me. I rather not to think about it.

And that’s why I will never let him know that I enjoy having sex with other people more than with him.

Dear Diary

I want to talk about A more. The truth is, I have been thinking about him.

This is a very strange situation for me. This man was in my life for nine hours only and six of them I was asleep. It makes no sense at all for me to think about him like that way I do now. Almost like a teenage crush.

This, is bad.

Dear Diary

Singapore was our city, B and I. But he won't be returning to this city, so won't I.

I called him my toy boy. Being a few years older than him it was something very glamorous about it. And he was a pretty boy.

The rules were explained very clearly right in the beginning. We were both attached so the only reason for us to be together was for the good sex. Fuck buddies.

The arrangement was great for us for a while until one day. That day, we went out. Instead of staying in bed in the hotel suite as we normally did, we went out for an afternoon walk. Somehow it became a date.

Fuck buddies don’t date. They just simply cannot and should not. It’s a rule that should be engraved on any condom cover. But we violated the rule. We held hands we fed each other ice cream we chose outfit for each other… We talked.

So that was it. We had to end it, before falling for each other.

Why was I so afraid of love?