Whisperings of the heart

"I miss you."

It whispers softly in this silent night. Whispering through her being that it kept her awake as a tear unconsciously drop from her eyes.

This night more than the other nights. It misses you. It misses you so much that a sharp pang pierced through its wall. So painful, so real and she told her heart to stop. But her heart wouldn't listen. For tonight, her brain wouldn't either.

She forced herself to bed, but as she closed her eyes, images of him so vivid appeared before her. As though he was there.

She could practically hear his voice in her ear. She could even feel the warmth of his hands and the strength of his hugs. She could even hear the beatings of his heart.

On her lids, images of him replaying like a movie reel. His smile. The twinkle in his eyes as he plans to disturb her. And that same twinkle with a slight variation as they converse and he was about to burst into a huge laugh.

Those eyes. The kindness reflected within it always swept her away and into those deep brown pools.

The way his lashes flutter as he reached out for her in his sleep and that smile when his hand found hers as he fell further into slumber.

She stared at him as he slept. That image embedded in her mind as she traces his every feature with her finger memorising each curve, each wrinkle, each contour, each muscle and feel of his warm cheeks against her fingers. The feel of his whiskers between her fingers.

That same image replaying each time she closes her eyes. Oh this heart. This brain. This memory.

"Is this what love really is?"

She wondered to herself as the clock ticks further into the night. It's quarter to 4 in the morning now.

She needs the sleep. But now as she closes her eyes, all she could see is him. Staring at her as she rests. His eyes taking in and remembering everything about her. His fingers playing with her hair. And he whispered...

"I will never forget this. This, you beside me. Like this. This is perfect. It's what i want, always, with you."

His words as if just yesterday appeared in her ear. And she covered her ears.

"No. This is not real. None of this is real. He doesn't want me anymore. He doesn't love me anymore. Stop it. Stop. None of this is real."

She whispered to herself, telling her brain to grasp what is reality. Summoning her rational mind.

"Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Mind over matter."

She stared into darkness. Her heart taking over her rational mind.

It's not letting go tonight, it seems.

"Come back to me!"

This heart never stops pleading in silent. She turns away and grab her pillows as she forces herself to bed.

Show me...

Have you ever wondered if anyone sees or notices anything?

On days where you appear to look just fine but your heart is quivering as it tries to hold on to all the pieces. Some of which are still missing and you're still trying to locate them. 

But this appearance you put on... As if nothing could bring you down. As if you're this fearless being that could take over the world. 

But when no one's looking, your eyes waver alittle. This shield you put up gets a little low on power.

You're holding on to what little resolve you have left and you wait. 

You wait for the day that this wouldn't feel so real anymore. You wait for the day that you find all the pieces and you officially close it off from anyone else. 

The world we live in...

We're entering July and the last 6 months of 2016 seems to show us that 2016 hasn't really been a good year has it?

With Syria, ISIS, Orlando, Paris, Turkey, Brexit...

Sometimes I wonder whether have I lived too long a life to have witnessed all of this happening in this world. But... I am still a few months away from 30. 30 is not even an age where one could say that they have lived a lifetime. You know what I mean?

Growing up, I never thought I would one day witness a world such as one all of us are living in today. So full of turmoil, discrimination, and sometimes... hate.

a 4 letter word... so simple and yet withholding a non-varying definition. One can never try to define hate any other way than what it is. Hate. So resolute. So absolute. So final.

I hope the world will heal soon as we progress into the 2nd half of the year.

about 5 more days till the end of Ramadhan. How time flies.

Salam to all my muslim readers (if any). Hopefully, this Ramadhan has been a fulfilling one for all of you. 

The Letter.

When October is around the corner. Somewhere, somehow, the letter you wrote me the day I turned 22nd tends to resurface. Re-reading the letter  never failed to make me see how long ago we were. How we were once upon a time. How it feels that we were a dream that sometimes I wasn't sure happened.

Re-reading the letter, shows the promises that's broken. Re-reading the letter, makes me wonder if they were just words.

Once I cried so much over those words; thinking how unfair life was. The following year, I cried over missing you. The year after that, I cried at how we were at that point of time. 6 years later since that letter was written, I read it and tears flowed. I wasn't sobbing as I did previously. I was just crying at the love that's once were. I was just crying at the friendship that is now destroyed.

One day. I will shed a single tear for it and nothing else. Just a single tear. One day.

Intimidating is not an insult, or is it?

I have always known that I am independent, at times intimidating and very stubborn. It comes from the years of drilling myself to strive for the better, to do nothing but the best and do not settle for anything less.

Someone shouldn't tell me that for my own sake and for the sake of my future husband and marriage, i should change. I should be softer and more amiable to be controlled.

Well, Fuck you. I'm a modern independent woman brought up by a strong independent woman. There's no way i would insult myself, my mother and my upbringing that way.

Love and other things...

I've developed a bad habit in recent years... That's my lack of updates on this blog. I don't know if time have gotten in the way of everything else but I just have not found the time to blog publicly, privately or even jot stuff down in my diaries.

Today I'm gonna write about LOVE.

I'm 27. An age where my the majority of my social circle have taken the step to move on to the next phase of their lives.

However, here I am. Single, available, not looking and somehow, totally unbothered about this whole relationship thing.

I went to a family friend's house the other day... Both mother and daughter have been crowned Mrs. Singapore Universe previously and it has been about 20years since i last saw them. Coz, i either have never bothered tagging my parents along to their house or I was never free to tag along prior to the visit a couple of days ago.

They were shock of course at the sight of me! Different, fully grown up and in their words, "so pretty!"

I never believed those words. Coming out of anyone. I try keeping a straight face, smile and politely say my thank yous. Well, you see. Growing up, even before i was this... ermm.. curvy, no one ever said i was pretty or beautiful. My mom says that of course. But hey, she's my mom. She's suppose to say all the nice things to me!! I was often told that I looked different. I was fat (even when i was slimmer). And that I have my nieces telling me that they didnt wanna be like me when they grow up coz, i'm not pretty... all that i am is smart.

It hurt at first. But after awhile... I decided to accept the fact that i'm not this pretty being. So i was fine with myself the way I am. But each time someone tells me i'm pretty or that i should try modelling... I tend to squirm uneasily. Coz in my head is all like "what is it that they see that i'm not seeing?!"

ANYWAYS. BACK TO MY STORY.

They started talking about love. How you should never rely on a man to support you coz you're capable on doing that on your own as a strong independent woman. I truly and totally agree with that. I mean c'mon. I AM single and NOT BOTHERED by it.

B told me this other thing... Never go for someone who doesn't treat you like a Queen. I grew quiet just thinking about it. Wouldn't such a treatment be subjective? Then I started looking back to that one serious relationship i had those years ago. Maybe she was right. Sometimes, you think the world of someone. Allowing them to smother you with affection to a point that you get blinded by their actions. I finally manage to take a look at the time with new eyes. Probably I am bias, with a strange friendship loyalty that I'm gonna say we were young then. But in reality, we were not that young.

Nevertheless, those words kept on repeating in my head for days. An echoing reminder. "Never go for someone who doesn't treat you like a Queen". But what does that entails really?

hmmm.