there's no such thing as coincidence, i say, it's synchronicity

Current favourite song that i've been replaying every night, i might be responsible for a third of the plays on YouTube.

It's been quite an internship experience - enduring the awkward mandatory small talks on the first day, gradually warming up to the people around me, learning the names of the big partners and the friendly secretaries, gearing up for each client meeting especially when i'm tasked with being the chinese translator, re-reading each email once, twice, thrice before actually clicking send, re-reading everything else so many times my eyes just glaze over chunks of paragraphs and rushing like a headless chicken each time it's my last day to write thank you cards and racking my brains to remember my mentor's favourite brand of chocolates.

I don't think i will particularly miss the life of an intern, but if, when, i make it to the top, i promise never to forget how it felt like to start at the bottom.

And, for the second time in my life, i'm actually quite excited to fly back to UK. The past 2 years have just been a blurry waste of me pining to be somewhere else. But no, you can't make homes out of human beings, especially the ghost of someone from my past. So yes, can't wait to start organising all the mooting competitions, go for externals, learn Spanish (hmm), join kayaking (idc that they train in the swimming pool it is COLD outside), run run run everyday, do pro bono work and just to be part of something bigger than myself.

i've scrubbed away the touch of his hands on my skin

it's bittersweet, really.

i'm at the stage where all i feel are small twinges of sadness. The disbelief has finally set in, the phases of uncontrollable anger and rage have faded, the nights of tears and longing and desperation have passed.

the week before this was probably the worst. that's when it really sunk in- he's not coming back no matter how sad he is. and that is also when family and friends assumed the worst was over and that i was more or less okay. It probably took extra love and patience for them not to strangle me as i toyed with the idea of calling him again.

and yes, it's true that it's always darkest before the dawn. I'm finally at a place where i have no desire to try to pick up the pieces of a dysfunctional relationship and force them where they don't fit. I can actually sign up for dance classes or dive trips because i genuinely want to go, and not because i'm trying to fill a gaping void.

I still struggle sometimes. At times i feel 4 years' worth of memories slipping away and i panic. Something exists as long as there's someone around to remember it. So, if i move on too, does it mean it's all gone?

It's been a while since I've been to

church but I think God said this:

some love is like a cracked vase,

beautiful but useless. There's a

hymn about sparrows being fed

that is meant to comfort lonely

people. If there is anything just

about our world, you would be

on your way home to me tonight.

I think God said this: you don't

always get what you want,

and sometimes that's a good thing.  

- Anneisrestless

soft dies the light, part three of five

When you were younger, your brother told you that there's always a chance the sun has gone out and these are our last eight seconds of light before a darkness that would freeze the earth into extinction. 

One day you met a boy who reoriented your universe and became your sun. Your mother would cry if she knew how hard you loved him because it was as if you have found home in the riverswift touch of his skin but 

you are talking about your favourite tv show the first time he pulls out his phone in the middle of a conversation. It is dark in the room and the white light frames his face. You blink in the brightness. Your words slow down. You don't know why, but this moment in particular feels like a handshake with the end, feels like the first meeting before how bad things would get. Feels like the moment he no longer felt you were worth his full attention. 

You forgive him because you know there's no reason for your discomfort. Besides, you do tend to chatter a lot when you get excited. Besides, this is karma for all the times you had to text your little sister back in the middle of a conversation because you always put family before him. Besides, when the sun goes out, there will be light for about eight seconds.

The drowning is slow. You blame yourself because even though you've never wrung out your bones for the want of a boy, this one has a something-special that ties you with barbed wire. Maybe if you just make this relationship all about him, you'll get him to smile at you in that way again. Maybe if you scrape yourself into nothing, he'll think you're of so little substance that you're no longer a burden. You begin to trim back the wild braces of your body and soul.

You're not like this. You're not. If your friend was in a relationship like this, you would have advised her to leave him a long time ago. You would have egged his house and refused to let him break her. You would have told her that human beings are not cigarette smoke, that there is no way to truly be addicted to someone who can kill you, that even if her memories of his kindness are the things she built her childhood dreams from - even  if he's her prince charming, she was born for more than a knight who has kept his armour shinning, she is better needing saving, she is the dragon, the castle, the thicket of thorns, she is wind and fire and fiercely strong, you'd say. But you are not your friend, you are alone. 

You watch him slowly fall out of love with you and you stand there with empty palms, feeling your heart hammer in your chest, feeling empty, feeling the cold blade of space threatening to take away any form of life inside of your blood vessels. You don't know how exactly, but there's a moment while the two of you are driving that you realise he is completely gone for you. Maybe it's the angle of the sun off of his cheekbones or the way he holds the steering wheel or the downturn of his lips, some part of you says, "this is it. the last of it has left."

Your sun has swallowed itself and these are the last eight seconds of light. You use them to beg him back to you in ways that break your own heart. You aren't the dragon or the fire or the forest. You're only a little girl with hands that shake and khobby knees and you are standing there in the wind and you feel like crying, watching him as the sky goes dark in his eyes. 

You are alone and good god, good god, but is it cold, cold, cold. -inkskinned

I've lost count of how many days it has been

thursday-
I miss the way I could just sink into your embrace at the end of a long, tired week and you'd just hold me and promise me all the golden stars in the universe for making it through.

friday-
A relative asks me about your absence at dinner, and it's almost a relief to tell her I don't know, and I don't have to know anymore.

saturday-
I witnessed a beautiful wedding and I thought about how you weren't going to be the one waiting for me at the end of the aisle and how strangely alright I was with that.

sunday-
I did almost everything right. I went to church in the morning and teared during the re-telecast of singapore's declaration of independence, I squeezed through the crowds and jostled for a good seat, I proudly wore matching I LOVE SG shirts in gold and red with my sister, I ran through barriers and dodged security to snap a picture with the mascot, I sang all the songs and chanted all the words with the audience, I waved the flag and the jubilee star till my hands started aching, but when it came to the parade, I couldn't bring myself to look at the row of smartly dressed NDU guards, weak, weak, I told myself, but I couldn't.

All the times I should have left but instead I stayed

When you come home tonight, I will not be there. On the sideboard there is a note that says "I am tired of wearing my heart on my sleeves for you, I've taken it back." Look, it's exhausting to love you like this. I would have stood outside for you if I knew you'd pass by to open the door for me but my fingers are cold and you're just standing at the window trying to decide if you can be open enough to let me in. I don't know if you can or know how but I know that my hands are tired of reaching to empty spaces. God, it's not okay for you to love me when it's convenient or when you're not busy. It's not okay for you not to try because you know I'll be waiting for you anyway. It's not okay because your cold is seeping into me and I used to be throbbing once, I used to be a fire. I don't know how to give less of myself to someone. I don't know how to be half full or half feeling so when I said that I would have stayed with you, I meant it. I don't want to have to be anything less than I am but I can't stay with you anymore. Your arms are perpetually folded. Mine can't reach far enough to keep us both warm. I've tidied your clothes. I've left you milk in the fridge, but I won't pick up your calls anymore. I'm closing the door gently behind me, I'm not coming back, I have to look for something warmer. -Azra T, you can't love with your eyes shut

but it's okay baby, only words bleed

When you hear a song that reminds you of him on the radio, let yourself feel your heart constrict. Let yourself feel waves of sadness hit you continuously until you finally break down and sob so hard you don't think you could ever breathe normally again.

Pause, take a few shaky steps to your closet and attempt to pull out a dress to change into so you can take a shower. Let yourself crumble back onto your bed when you realise you can't. 

When you feel like you physically can't produce anymore tears and you're sick of wallowing in self-pity, pull yourself together. Switch on the lights and throw away all the used tissues. Realise how many trees you've killed in one night. 

Allow yourself to be dragged out of bed by your best friend and go for a sleepover that was organised to cheer you up. Let yourself laugh till your sides ache and start to wonder what you were so upset about hours ago. Listen when your friends fill you in about their lives. Listen, actually listen, and realise that life goes on no matter what. 

Be thankful for an older sister who went through the same thing three years ago because she'll tell you that you're doing great even when you relapse and hide you from curious stares when you start tearing in public. Tell your parents you love them when they hold you as you collapse into their arms.  Tell your parents you're sorry too, for breaking their hearts by letting yours be broken. 

Stay away from social media, or don't. Delete what you have to, not out of spite but because you need to survive.  

Write, because you want to document these feelings and remember this love you once had that you fought so fiercely for. Let yourself accept that it's gone now. Read articles online and stories of people with similar experiences to normalise, not trivialise, yours. 

Sleep early to feel optimistic about tomorrow but know that when you wake up in the morning, the pain will still be there. 

Rinse and repeat until you're alright again.