Right, I have something to confess.
Really really something to say it out before it bursts in me.
I like somebody.
Yes, I like somebody and it gets so intense sometimes it freaks me out. I having been experiencing this feeling for more than 2 years.
Before I begin I must admit that I once had a relationship with a nice guy whom I met in an online dating site. He is a very well mannered person, very kind and caring and makes me happy all the time. We even met once in person when he visited Singapore for some sight-seeing and stuff. However we broke up after half a year.
The reason is, there isn’t genuine romance involved. Not his fault, but mine.
I have been using him as a substitute for this person whom I had silently harboured unrequited feelings to for the past two and a half years.
This is weird really.
I am in love with somebody I am not supposed to.
He is my former teacher.
He is in his early thirties, a good 14 years older than me. And he taught English and Chemistry (pun not intended) and was my class’s form teacher for our graduation year in middle school.
I don’t understand really. I thought I am supposed to fall in love with the hottie from next class or the sexy new bag boy in the grocery store down the street. Or flirt with the dashing President of the Student Council who had just celebrated his 18th birthday.
But I just don’t. What’s wrong with me?
I have tried doing an analysis to find out what makes me so attracted to him. Well, he is an introvert like me, and rarely displays his feelings. He never scolded or yelled and rarely smiled. And well, from what I (and many others) had observed he is effeminate. I’ve heard juniors making fun of his appearance and somewhat feminine appearance. Even if I do not have any feelings toward him it is still a malicious thing to do.
But somehow he seem to be a representation of certain values that I wish my parents could have had. He is very patient, very sensitive towards others, and have very refined manners and ettiquette (even though they may be a bit feminine). He is also very soft tempered and he will just encourage people on quietly, just as he would chide softly at a misbehaving student. He just have that maternal value. And at times even when he overheard people saying nasty things, he would just pretend not to hear and go away, not like many other teachers who would be putting on the evil smirks and jump at the opportunity to dish out detentions and horrendous things in revenge.
Perhaps I am only falling in love with the ideal of love and not with the essence of love?
But if it is only a crush, why do I still think of him after so long? If it really is puppy love my former boyfriend would have had easily filled the gap for me.
Sometimes I really wish he is my dad… but if he really is, I’m afraid I am going to be enemies with my mom.
I am so confused. What do I exactly see in him, a lover, an older brother, a father, or a mentor? Or is it all four?
I really don’t know.
But now my heart still pines away and the pain is so sharp that it made me cry sometimes.
I never have any more crushes in junior college, and I doubt I will ever have any in the future. He is the first and most probably the one and only crush I have.
I think I am starting to sound like Duke Orsino, that silly fellow.
Since I have graduated from middle school, I guess it is worth giving it a try after A levels? I’ve seen from the magazines that sometimes, miracles do work out. Just entertaining a rather crazy thought.
To that person whom I am referring to: I just want to say, I love you. I love you… so much…
To be really frank I think I am emotionally enstranged from my family.
Truth be told I never write to my family.
I just don’t know why, I just don’t feel that my thoughts and values are in sync or in the same frequency as my family.
To put it in other words I never truly understand and appreciate what my parents and my siblings want, and neither do they really take note of what I really desire.
I know sometimes I am self centred, wilful and a tad idealistic. But I just can’t help feeling that way sometimes, even though I do try to control my mood to suit the occasion.
My ideal vision of a family: An intelligent dad who cracks jokes with a good sense of humor that warms the cockles of my heart but never freak me out, guides me patiently and encouragingly in my work but never boss me around of make me feel inferior, takes me out to try new things like fishing, mountain climbing, taking a dip in the sea, horse riding, barbecueing, fun stuff like that. A sweet tempered mum with a lot of patience and good reasoning and being calm and rational when something is wrong, like when I accidentally cut myself, or fall down, or during my periodic bouts of uncontrollable diarrhoea and vomiting, one which I am able to share stuff such as crushes or moody feelings and things like that, and still being able to guide me through them. Next is an older brother who is a couple of years older than me, who loves and protects me as his little sister and is very very strong. He will share his college experiences and introduce me to his girlfriend when she comes round for dinners, or accompany me to the clinics or hospitals when Mum or Dad is not free to take me and during weekends or the holidays he will take me along to hiking trips, camps, to the beach where we can trek along the rocky coasts and collect seashells, or just sit there and watch the sunset with our dear old collie whom I will name Bert. My older brother will protect me if anybody tried to bully me in school, and he will make sure I will not be ostracized whenever possible. And then I have good old Bertie, who will always lick my toes and place his paws on my hands and wag his tail at me whenever I feel upset and nobody is around to comfort me. He will follow me to school every morning and sit beside me at my desk. He will also be my trusty protector whenever I go mountain climbing or fishing or stuff, basically he is my 24 hour bodyguard and good friend.
We will live in a large house in the countryside with vast green meadows and pretty orchards brimming with apples every autumn, shimmering stars at night, and undulating hills blanketed with pure white snow every winter. We will have a stable at the backyard, from which I take my Shetland pony out for a canter in the fields – for Dad won’t let me touch his Thoroughbred – it is too strong for me to control. My family will attend every prize giving ceremony, plan every birthday party for me, and go out together for a getaway in beautiful places like the Great Barrier Reef, the Enchanted River in the Philippines, Tibet, Bhutan, Stonehenge, Gold Coast, the Great Canyon, the Great Wall, the Golden Pyramid and many more. Or we just simply harvest the apples together with the wither leaves coated in brilliant gold and amber under the rays, mom would make maple syrup, bring out the honey, brew red tea and knead sourdough for healthy bread, and we would settle for a lovely supper of apples coated in maple syrup and honey, toasted bread with maple syrup and honey and butter and piping hot red tea. My favourite.
Couldn’t really fathom what the heck is going on in the apartment recently.
Mom just got, well, fatigued. I am partly to blame, I am too immersed in my musings (and too indolent perhaps) to give her a hand in things.
Actually, my mother is a rather little lovely woman who is a comfortable presence to have at home. Her name is Sharon and she is an immigrant from Tangkak, a little town in Johor, Malaysia. She persevers in her everyday doings, cleaning the house, cooking meals, going grocery shopping and taking care of my little brother and my father (I’ll explain later) even though she admitted that she ‘should have better things to do’. I think she is a wonderful lady.
My father is a rather rough character at home. He is gentlemanly in social events, but very brash and insensitive at home. He places financial coverage and food as priority, and used to heap colossal helpings of lavish dishes like roast duck, braised pork, grill salmon, fried chicken wings on his (and ours) plate until the diagnosis of terminal cancer hit the sense back into him last Christmas. I feel obliged to have a bond with him and reject him at the same time. But for now I have to move on. Don’t ask me why.
My younger siblings are, ugh. Well, my younger sis Elleora is in her second year in secondary school. She is top in her class and the fourth in her cohort – a very promising young girl who is going to receive a prestigious academic scholarship from the Ministry of Education very soon. She is setting her sights in the Humanities stream for her O Level course next year. She is a great friend and confidante (only in certain topics!) but she may be too obsessed with her Korean pop stars, sometimes (actually most of the week, if you minus the glorious 10 hours she clock for her bedtime, but still she even DREAMS about her T.O.P and G Dragon oppas, facepalm haha) And that’s not very promising for a young lass who still hasn’t got a boyfriend. For my brother Cecil, he is in his first year of kindergarten and is moving on to year 2 next spring. He may be very cherubic but he can be quite a devil, he nearly tore my study table down when I was not around for a week (I went to Malaysia for a break) But still he is intelligent beyond his years. He can form proper sentence structures and apply his linguistic abilities in real life while his peers are still struggling with phrases! Amazing isn’t it? But sometimes I just can’t stand him.
I have two cousins from Malaysia staying with us for a few years. One is Elder Sis Alvina, only daughter of my father’s 2nd elder brother, who come here from Pulau Pinang to study in a polytechnic and university before finding an apartment in Singapore to live here for good. Another one is Elder Bro Sheng, eldest son of my mother’s elder sister, from Tangkak Johor. He joined us in about July this year after graduating with honors in Newcastle University in the UK to begin work in Singapore as well. He wants a PR status in Singapore. I guess he will be staying for good as well.
I guess Mum’s pretty overwhelmed having to deal with so many things within such a tight schedule. I can tell she so desperately wants a holiday. I’ve tried offering her one, at the expense of my scholarship allowance (which is a couple of thousand dollars). But she refused everytime, saying that I will never know what she wants, and besides she have other duties to do.
But really, it is not a crime to forgo your duties ONCE IN A WHILE and have fun right?
Couldn’t understand what this woman is thinking about.
But sometimes I just feel so helpless as well, being unable to get rid of certain issues for my mum.
Sometimes I feel she is just being exploited by the whole family, even myself, sometimes.
I just get the feeling that she is being pressured and bullied into doing things for people.
Kind of sad, really.
But sometimes I thought it was her fault that she didn’t pursue a higher education in the first place and marry someone better than my father.
But the case is, I don’t really know the full story of everything right?
At times she will get really upset about nothing in particular, perhaps by a comment that I uttered unintentionally and she would scream at me for making her suffer.
Every morning is not always a good morning. Sometimes I wish she can disappear and do the cleaning and cooking from another dimension.
How selfish a thought. But it’s only a thought.
Selfish me. Undeserving me.
I hate myself sometimes.
I am a rather timid person, there have been countless of times when I had been scared stiff. Before I get started on therapy and counselling I used to be very scared of nearly everything – the roar of the motor, the screeching of brakes, the bellow of thunder during the monsoon season, creepy crawlies, horror movie trailers, a frazzled teacher’s scream in school, the bottles of antibiotics, syrings and the IVs during my monthly hospital trips, even my mom’s big black foundation brush (I thought it looked really creepy then).
But there’s one incident that pretty scared the hell out of me at a greater intensity than the rest. It happened when I was about four or five years old. A clarification, not just at an instance, it happened quite a few times as a matter of fact.
It mostly happened during the night when I was about to go to sleep. Well, I never watched any horror movies or creepy things like that prior to this experience. But as I close my eyes I never fail to visualize this girl in my mind. She looks rather eerie to me. She was dressed in a white nightgown, her long black ann untidy hair hanging on her shoulders and down her waist, and her face, I have to say this, her face is totally white and really really scary. There were two huge gaping black holes at the place where her eyes should have been, and she was always grinning sinisterly at me. It was really terrifying and disgusting to me. So I would open my eyes and try to focus my gaze at something else in the room to pacify myself and make sure that I was still in reality. I didn’t dare to go to sleep until I got really very exhausted and my strength failed me. To make things even worse I find the curtains in the room equally crazy as well. My mom used to buy tons of fabric for the tablecloths and the curtains, and for some uncanny reason she preferred one which had the Sun in splendour print. I hated that really. It looks creepy.
Hi I am Abigail, and I am from Singapore. This is my first time typing out my thoughts in WordPress. My previous blogs are all powered by Blogger. The reason why I choose to switch to WordPress this time is that with the passing my 17th birthday I feel the need to move on to another phase of my life. Just a feeling really, a conviction that occurs out of nowhere that prompted me to abandon my previous blogs and start afresh on this new one, despite myself knowing the immense amount of time and effort I took to contribute to the enormous content of my previous ones.
So well, hi and I am Abigail. I am studying in a junior college in Singapore right now and I am going to do my graduating year next year (2014). It has been a very interesting and challenging year for 2013 and I am just so relieved that I have passed the promotional criteria (though it isn’t really a brilliant score) but well, at least I got promoted.
Now to make things clear to people who happen to chance upon my blog I must say, there is no exact genre or theme to what I am writing about. I just write when I please. And really I write anything that I feel like writing about. To me thes few years have been rather tumultuous and I just want to get some things off my chest. Really.
Actually in real life I am much of an introvert. I don’t know how to socialise the ‘right way’ (and how exactly do you define ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ anyway?) and I just… can’t bring myself to say hi to people and stuff like that. And I don’t really know how to articulate what I want to say confidently. I just want to be confident and make people like me for who I really am, but sometimes it seems that people just dismiss me like any other shy geek.
So well, I guess I shall end my intro for now and get started on something next. Yeah.