Better, I Hope

It's never nice to learn about things that happened a long time ago, and yet had been kept from you all this while.

It never fails to make you feel like a complete fool, a big idiot, to have been kept in the dark for so long - especially while you'd been so trusting.

Trust is painfully given, but easily abused. It's all but a vicious cycle.

But then, learning about it now is pretty much inconsequential.

The hurt from it is insignificant against the hurt from everything now, but it sure adds to it.

Could the pain have been lessened then if I had known about it more than a freakin' year ago? Perhaps. I wish.


I didn't manage to see the pups after all.

The family who had thrown away the pups has now taken them back, and demanding a selling price from suckers like us who are dying to save them.

Fuck you. We'll see what the SPCA might say.

I don't know why, but I am really intent on bringing one of them pups home with me.

The paws look big from the pictures; the pup might grow to become a huge pup four times the size of Piper. It sure does look like a retriever - golden or lab, I can't tell yet. I'd have to squeeze the dog into my house if I were to keep it.

Maybe then Mommy will be forced to look for a space of her own - for just herself and her three kids.

My imagination is running wild again.


And speaking of hangovers, I feel like I'm in a perpetual state of hangover everyday now.

The head feels heavy when I wake.

The stomach is always queasy and flipping upside down, and rejecting all kinds of food.

I tried to take breakfast this morning - a first for me. The unappealing kaya toast was practically forced down my throat by huge gulps of kopi-o.

In an unsuccessful bid to quell all talk about my weight, I tried to fatten myself up for dinner. Definitely not one who adores cream and cheese and milky stuff, I always have my beloved pasta cooked in tomato-based sauces.

But without much thought tonight, I ordered my spaghetti cooked Alfredo - full of milky cream, cheese, egg and ham. The rich taste of cream wasn't something I was quite used to.

I left half the plate unfinished.

But I think I'm surely getting better. At least the desire to eat has returned; now I only have to coax my stomach into accepting whatever I stuff down my throat - willingly.

I think I'll go for my prawn noodle tomorrow. I am missing it.


I think maybe I'm getting better.

The urge to cry still comes, I don't deny. But the frequency is much less now - I hope.

And the tears don't last for long now. Maybe it's weariness. Maybe the wells are dry. Or maybe I'm really starting to wonder if this is worth any more of my precious tears.

The sadness still remains, I don't deny as well. And the hurt too. And, maybe... maybe just that little tiny bit of hope in me.

I am not quite used to being alone. I have urges now and then to share some moment with someone - like the time I found out the stupid petrol price has gone up by a freakin' 20 cents - and it's hard to swallow when I realize I don't have someone to share little silly things in my life now.

There's no one to seek advice from when I have big decisions to make in my life. I'm all by myself, all for myself now.

The sudden unexpected freedom feels a little scary now. But everyone tells me it's for the better.

Is it really?

Birthdays will be different. So will be Christmases. And most of all, Chinese New Years.

I may be better by these occasions. But I know I'll be thinking where you may be during those times.


I did some talking again tonight. I'd have usually felt bad for letting it out again, against your wishes.

But tonight, I'm glad I did. It makes me feel better, for once. I'm sorry if it frustrated you, but I made myself feel much more at ease letting it out to the ears I want to reach.

There is nothing shameful in admitting your pain, your fears, your emptiness, and in professing your love for someone while you still feel it.

You only feel sorry if you miss the chance while you still had it.