Runs on food and music, will sing for chips and pasta.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Memories: breakup then and now

"Your face looks like it's been hit by a truck."  The first joke after our breakup.  He coaxed me to stop crying, well I didn't stop right away but that did make me laugh.

My first and only breakup was in 2004, after our first two years together.  Second year was lots of small but unpleasant fights, I grew overly dependant on him, the passion and fun were lost in the mundanity of a lifeless routine - I was too young and foolish to see that it was going to pieces, slowly.

"I don't remember the last time we have fun together anymore.  When we fight so much nowadays, it makes us forget all the good things we had."

"I didn't miss you when I was away."
"So what?" I said.
"I don't think we should do this anymore."

Though it was done gently, it was my first.  The gentle blow hit me like a truck indeed.  We lay in the darkened room and discussed what to do next.  There was no yelling or scolding.  All of that were done months before and led to the quiet explosion of that night when he said he didn't want to do this anymore.

Heart broke into pieces, tear gate flushed and there was no turning back.  But looking back now, I remember it was all very gentle, extremely gentle.

I remember we even went out for a night stroll in the city, Bukit Bintang area.  Either the night we broke up or the night after.  I wore a cotton army hat to cover my swollen eyes, favourite blue jeans, a black bra and a black see through mesh blouse.  He took a photo of me that night, the print is somewhere in some box in some corner of my house now.

We walked gently, talked gently, the gentle farewell to romance I guess.

After I found a place to move in to, he took me shopping at IKEA and bought me a few book shelves for my new home.  We took everything back ourselves and he stayed the day to assemble everything for me.  I bought a brand new super single bed.  My new place was beautiful, small, and clean.  My chief tenant was an aircraft engineer who lived in the master room and he kept the flat wonderfully clean.

It wasn't all easy and pretty like my new rented room of course - buying things for my new home was the easy part.  Walking away from the relationship in one piece took a lot more effort.  My colleagues back then were lovely bunch, I can't remember exactly what they did for me but I remember them being lovely to me.  The first few weeks were terrible - focusing at work and keeping a calm composure.

Before my move out of his place, watching him coming home late at night and being confused was hard.  Once he came home, evidently he had one too many drinks, he walked to our bed with his helmet still on his head and proceed to lie down.  I could only imagined what was on his mind, the not knowing was painful.  I wrote an entry about the not knowing and the cease of communication:

it hurts me to see you like this.  
it hurts to know that i don't know how you feel. 
it hurts even more to know that i have probably never really know how you feel. 
it hurts like crazy to know that i have stopped being the person you confide in at the end of the day. 

i'm still here. 

you've hurt me but i'm still here, you can cry on my shoulders. 
yes i know it's stupid but my heart tells me to. 
you may not love me anymore but i'm still the same person you talked to. 

damn it, i'm still the same person. 

you are feeling unjust that the world hasn't given you what you deserve for your efforts. 
you are feeling tired in the head and in the mind. 
you are feeling unhappy, i can tell from your face. 

if only i can be that person you confide things to again... 
if only. 

He was very very kind to me, he helped me set up the new life.  After the new home was installed, I was independent again.  I wrote a lot of blog entries, I read books, I went out and have many meals alone, some with friends.  And he would be around sometimes, we stayed as good friends.  Back to our old days before our romance - we chatted at Mamak after work.

"Move out of his space, and let the bastard miss you." My best friend told me when she first got over the initial shock of the news.

The breakup was good for me - it forces me to grow up, to reflect on myself, and to chase after my independence and discover my art again (and that is another story).

The breakup was good for him - for him to break away from an almost abusive relationship and to reclaim his right for a more loving friend and relationship.

The breakup was good for us - we reset the friendship, reviewed our behaviour and started fresh as friends again. Our friendship was rekindled and we got to remind ourselves again why we enjoyed each other's company at the first place.

I know I was lucky to have only gone through only one breakup in my life, and what more, one that broke my ego and built me up again.  I don't know what you can learn from my story, it's just me putting them down in words, and share my reflection of what was experienced back then - all of 11 years ago.

We eventually got back together again, about 7 months later, as a couple.  The partnership took to a great new height and we hardly have fights after that, we bonded more, we truly appreciated each other more, we became 'bestest' of friends.  We live and let live and we promised each each other to grow old together, marriage or no marriage - we want to be each other soul mate.

So that is my happy ending breakup story.

I wrote this as a self-preparation for an imminent separation of a very different kind of relationship.  Romantic or platonic, I think separation and breakups are there to teach us and help us become stronger and better people.

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