Diary Lies

It is today he finally hates me.

Two years to date.

I whispered "thank you" to myself when I read his text message.

He was deliberately cruel, mean, and hurtful.

I wonder how much of his words were true.

So maybe it is today we get to finish it.

I didn't tell you I dreamt of him last night. We were holding hand, heading towards a carnival.

I was happy. Vaguely.

Let me tell you just how screw up I am right now.

C loves me, my dearest husband. And he has made every effort for us to stay together. He said: “I’ve changed my entire world and value for you.”

I feel his love. Not just simply ticking all the checklist of “how to be a perfect husband”. I actually feel his heart, his emotion, his feeling, which he had difficulties showing before.

It’s a good thing isn’t it? But there’s J.

The affair I had with J pushed me to make the decision leaving C.

I left my well paid position, beautiful apartment, sparkling social life in one country, and ran away to another country.

I wanted to see how it could have been for me. A different life. The second life.

Me leaving C has made him realized he wanted to be with me.

C came to the city for me and asked me to give him another chance.

We gave each other time and space. By doing so we’ve grown closer and closer.

I was happy the person I chose to spend my life with is back.

But J was still here. I didn’t know how to leave him.

J represented body. C represented mind.

These two men coexist in my life in the same time.

I had to tell too many lies.

When I was with J I was worried people might see us together.

When I was with C I was worried people might see us together.

I could not enjoy my life. I didn’t know which life I actually have. Which one I should live?

I guess I always knew that J has to go. Because he was the product of my unhappy marriage.

But it took a long time to let go of him.

Let’s hope this is the end end of the end.

Because I really do want my life back. I want a right one. Not a pretended one.

I want a life with my husband. I love him.

Dear Diary,

How do you explain this feeling?

You don’t have feeling for this person anymore. You don't enjoy his presence.

You asked him to go and he did.

You didn’t even cry.

You watched Sex and the City rerun on TV and still enjoyed it immensely.

You know you’ve med the right decision.

You congratulate yourself making it for the first night alone without him.

And now you start to feel lonely, a hint of sadness, and an urge to be with someone. And that someone could be him.

This is the process of dealing with grief. Not taking any pain killer. Not trying to sooth my pain by having him back.

I don’t want to be with him anyway.

And that’s the problem. People stay together for the wrong reason.

“Let’s live for the moment. We’ll deal with our issues later.”

So what is the most powerful tool to deal with this? The power of now? Or the power of, what?

Dear Diary,

Am I glad that it’s over? How many time exactly I said to myself that it had to be the last time and I betrayed my own judgement? And how can I know that this time is different from any other time?

The difference is, this time I left because I knew that we wanted different things. Whatever we were sharing together wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship.

I didn’t like the person I was when I was with J.

Insecure. Demanding. Wanting constant reassurance.

I am an insecure person. I’ve learnt that about myself a long time ago. But being with him only made it worse. Sometimes I even wondered if I really did ask too much. What I wanted in a relationship couldn’t be any further from what he could comprehend. What I saw as reasonable and understanding acts, to him, were the ridiculous band-aid fix for my insecurity.

We couldn’t ask the other person to change, yet no one wanted to change ourselves.

This relationship had come to this because, simply, we were not compatible. In the end, after all the movie like ups and downs, it was really the mediocre reason that broken us. Nothing dramatic.

So am I glad it’s finally over? No I am not. I wished it could go the other way. I wished that we could be the one for each other and live happily-ever-after. But after all this time I realised something – sometimes it is only the image of how it could be that attracts us into a relationship. We are only the victims of wishful thinking.

And it’s ok to let go.

I’ve been thinking about what J said. He said “This is it. The last of me.” And these words just get repeated in my mind all the time.

I am learning how to grieve. This is the grieving process. I need to learn to let go. I need to accept that once a person leaves my life that’s it. Like death. This person no longer exists.

But of course he does. He is just one phone call away.

We are living in the same city. I walk on the streets that we once walked together. And this city can be so huge it can be so small. Huge enough that if we pay attention we won’t bump into each other ever again. Small enough that if one of us chooses to see each other we can easily pick the time and date and place to intentionally come across each other.

I thought about how two worlds could just collide, and then drift apart.

How a person was the universe of the other person’s and the next minute it’s all gone. Life goes on.

Suddenly it reminded me a song. “The End of the World” is says:

Why does the sun go on shining
Why does the sea rush to shore
Don't they know it's the end of the world
'Cause you don't love me any more

Why do the birds go on singing
Why do the stars glow above
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when I lost your love

I wake up in the morning and I wonder
Why everything's the same as it was
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does

Why does my heart go on beating
Why do these eyes of mine cry
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye

Why does my heart go on beating
Why do these eyes of mine cry
Don't they know it's the end of the world
It ended when you said goodbye

Was it, the End of the World for him?

Dear Diary

He said, this is it. This is the last of me.

He carried all his belongings in a bag, slowly walked out the door, and turned to look at me in the eyes. I said, goodbye, J. He cried. And he waived goodbye.

Then he disappeared.

This has to be the one last time.

I asked J to leave me. Because I can’t give him what he wants. He can’t give me what I want. I don’t know what I want and I don’t know if I want him.

He was one of these cycles that I was incapable to break. I was always in two relationships at least, and when the primary one didn’t work or finally ended, I ran straight into the back up one.

J was part of the cycle. If I stayed with him I would stayed with this cycle. I would do the same thing “starting new” and tried and work on something that was full of deceptions right from the beginning.

And I would hurt him more than what he felt right now.

I broke his heart. And I am not even sure if I had broken mine.

Dear Diary

Today for the first time, I ended a relationship. I said to my dearest husband: “I want a separation.”

I want a separation. I want to separate myself from lies. From living in multiple lives. From playing a role in a seemly ideal life.

My wish was granted.

Dear Diary

Today my dearest husband said to me: “Well I did my best. If that's not good enough it's time for both of us to move on.”

He typed these simple words in a chat, followed by “I'll talk to you later.” Then he disappeared.

It didn’t hurt my heart. I didn’t experience the pain that I have encountered before. What I felt was some kind of irritation as if someone was squeezing my heart in an uncomfortable way.

How I thought it was a comfortable relationship.

It is never good enough. It doesn’t even matter if he tries. And he never does anyway.

I remember attending a marketing conference once and at a workshop the facilitator said to us “good enough is not enough.” He said, “Good enough can never make your customers satisfied.”

Maybe that also applies to relationships.

Good enough is not enough. How funny. Because if all he thinks he can take this relationship to a place that is good enough, then we have a problem.

I am not sure who the victim is anymore.

Living with him is comfortable. As I've said it is never passionate. But comfortable.

“He is a good person” that’s how I describe him when people ask.

And this good person is a good companion.

I thought it was good enough. I thought it was good enough. I thought it was.

I chose him to be my husband and it was a deliberate decision. I chose to stay with him even when I knew I was not 100% happy with him. I chose to cure my loneliness from how he never desired me by having affairs with other men.

I chose him because I thought the life with him was comfortable and stable, both financially and emotionally. I didn’t need to worry about money and I didn’t need to worry about going through the emotional rollercoaster when one’s in love.

On paper he’s got everything. He is a man who would satisfy any checklist for an ideal husband. And I wish I could love him more. But again, have I ever loved him?

At this point of time I don’t know what’s best for me what’s not. Maybe I never have a clue and that’s why I am in this mess.

Maybe really, it’s about time to move on. Maybe what I need is more than just comfortable.

Because after all, I can be comfortable with myself.

Dear Diary

All the excitements and pleasure have subsided. It all started when J said to me with a convincing voice: “I love you.”

So was it a game for me? Was the reason that I had lasted in this relationship with him for this long just because I wanted to win the game?

Was I hypochondriac when I felt that excruciating pain when he tried to leave me?

Have I really loved him? Have I ever loved him?

Have I ever, really loved?

I am confused.

Dear Diary

J’s call was expected. And it rang just before noon, as he promised. “I think we should meet up and talk about it in person.” He said. “I can be ready in about an hour.”

So I went, thinking, it was a proper closure for us. We had to do this face to face, not on the phone.

But it didn’t end. It got restarted again. Or at least, for as long as it could be. For as long as it should be.

It was not meant to be anyway. And it was the reason I chose him.

Yes. I chose him.

Several years younger than me. An exchange student from overseas. A definite expiry date on his visa. A girlfriend back home. And at the life stage that he won’t want to commit in anything. All of these made him a perfect candidate as my lover.

I didn’t want to have flings. Flings were too easy to have. I wasn’t satisfied with the casual sexual encounter. I wanted to fall in love. And I wanted to fall within a controlled environment.

How arrogant I was, thinking that I could fall in a controlled environment? You can never fall without losing your mind.

And so in a short period of time, because I thought I was not going to fall in an unhealthy way, I actually gave all I had to J.

So when he said “Why don’t we stay together for the moment?” I realized he was the one who’s been very sober.

He knows that the moment he leaves this country, that the story of us will end.

He knows that he will go back and resume his life. And it’s always easier for the person who’s not being left behind.

He knows that he has all the potential and possibilities waiting ahead of him. And I was not included in all those things.

I was back to his arms tonight. The same way I chose him, I chose to go ahead with what we have left.

The story will end this way, in his term. I will still have his arms around me for a few more nights. He will still call me baby adoringly and give me kisses on my forehead. We will still hold hands and exchange glances with a secret smile. We will still make love and we will still lose ourselves in each other.

I will give him as much as I can possibly give. Because to me, there is no tomorrow after the end comes.