Strangers, yet again.

Today, I scrolled through my instagram feed. I scrolled it till 2 years back, about the time I started documenting my life before I would leave home to study overseas. I chanced upon old pictures of us. Back when we were happier together. I was reminded of the time we went for self defence classes, shopping for clothes and took the train to the other side of the world(or country) just to see statues and idols. And just 3 minutes into writing this, I went to dig up my old posts. And I am reminded of the time we did things together. Quilling paper on a rainy day, travelling for 1 hours on public transport to eat $2 food, going grocery shopping together. That's just the tip of the surface.
It's funny, how time really can heal most wounds. Just a few weeks ago, when I chanced upon the photos, I felt nothing but sadness. I felt distanced from the emotions I had felt in the memories. But today, I saw the photos and I felt a tinge of nostalgia, know that while I missed the old times and that things are different now, I was glad for those times.
I hope you're happy now. I wouldnt say I'm 100% happy and moved on, but I'm moving away. I'm in the process of fixing myself. I'd say I've picked up the pieces and eventually, I'll get there. From strangers to the best of friends, and now we are strangers, yet again.

Hurting and healing

I thought I was doing fine. I thought that I could speak about this freely, without any pain, resent or sorrow. But somehow, every couple of days or weeks, I get a fresh wound. I lasted for a couple of weeks, and today, I get another wound. It's smaller than the previous one, but it still hurts.
Maybe the motto "Don't give up." just so ingrained in me that I can't bear to end the friendship. Maybe it's the sunk-cost bias. After 4-ish years, it just doesn't seem right to throw away all the time I invested into this. But I know I need to stop.
You've made it pretty clear you want out of this, you don't want me to depend on you, you want me to keep my feelings to myself, or tell someone, just not you. Well these are my feelings. Feelings that I probably won't tell you because they are feelings, and I'm unlikely to act on them.
I want to move out. I want to get out of this house. I don't want to ever see you in my life again, be it in the instastory of our mutual friends, or in lectures, or even worse, in the same clinic group. I don't want to hear your name, or read it anywhere.
I am not hating on you. But, I just want to get away from you, so that I can try to forget. So that I will not be reminded each and every single day of my life here that we were once friends, it didn't work out, and now you hate me. No, I take that back. I don't want to make a false accusation. Maybe you don't hate me, but it sure does feel like it ever since you told me you found it weird to be friends after all that happened. Maybe you can continue to be civil to me and not pine after our lost friendship. But I can't. Believe me, I've tried. I can last for a few weeks maximum, but then something will just trigger me and I crumble. I will pine for that friendship that I invested too heavily in.
I wish I could be indifferent to you. I wish I gave zero fucks about what went on in your life. And I'm trying, but I can't do it now.
I want to make it clear that I'm not blaming you. It's not your fault I feel these feelings. It's not your fault when I cry. But it's my right to feel how I feel. I can't control it. And I'm not going surpress how I feel. I'm not gonna bottle them up.

Looking back, you're not the first person that I depended on more than I should have. Maybe it's my character flaw, something that I will take note of for future friendships. I'm fiercely loyal to the ones I truly love, but sometimes, I pick the wrong ones to care for. I pick the ones that don't reciprocate how I feel for them, and I get crushed. I'm hurting right now, but I am also healing. I am making mistakes, and I will learn from them. Or maybe I won't. Because sometimes, the ones I love fiercely do the same for me, and I don't want to shy away from a friendship that might potentially last for my entire lifetime. What you are is a reminder that sometimes, investments fail and that I just need to learn to move on from there and find other people that can care for me like how I do for them.

Reflection

Nearly 3 quarters of the year is over, and I have learnt so much. Life has reaffirmed that it will always be unpredictable, especially when I least expect it and that change is constant. Change is constant. Three words, but they hold such significant consequences.

I'm learning so much about life and I want to document it right here, right now. So for future reference, Danelle, this is what 2017 has taught you thus far.

1. The importance of the people you choose to travel with.

I cannot stress how important this is. If you choose the wrong group, and the dynamics are off, that's equivalent to the whole trip being screwed up. Before this year, I never thought that group dynamics would play such a huge role in ensuring a trip's success. I knew that good planning was necessary to make the trip enjoyable, and choosing the right location was important too, but I neglected to consider the people I chose to travel with. Which, up until before 2017, had never been an issue. And then, I had the trip that changed my viewpoint on travel. The trip that taught me that a trip can be thoroughly miserable. The reason? Just poor group dynamics. It wasn't any one's fault (or well, if the other people on the trip want to blame me then, that's their opinion), but the mix of people that went just did not fit well. It was equivalent to making a sandwich and combining mayo with strawberries, gravy, brussel sprouts and venison. Just...NO.

2. That friendships end. Sometimes earlier than you expect them to.

Just when you thought that you found someone you can rely on for an indeterminate period of time in the future, that person might just leave you. So remember, don't every make someone your everything. People change, so do you. Sometimes, not everyone can handle your every mood, your personality, and it's ok. As long as you are able to make yourself happy, you can get through this. 

Sometimes, you meet people that you can't handle either, and sometimes that will happen to you. It might take you a short time to figure out who can be your friend or maybe a long time, but you'll learn. And this-people failing your expectations-is probably why you still have trust issues. I know it's not easy to overcome them, and I know you still haven't, but you can work this out. 

3. How hard it can be to cope with changes.

This is a year of many changes. A new house, a new living arrangement, changes in the friendships around you. I know it's difficult to cope. Sometimes your old coping mechanisms just don't work anymore and you use unhealthy methods to cope. You lash out at people, because you don't know how to channel this pent up frustrations and stress properly. You withdraw, because sometimes ignoring the problem and trying to forget helps, temporarily. You put on a mask, because when you're in that mask, it feels euphoric. I wish I knew how to help you with this right now, but the truth is I don't know. But I hope, for your sake, that you will eventually learn how to cope with all these emotions. It's not easy, but I hope that you will figure this out.

Spring

Growing up in a tropical country left me ignorant of the changing seasons temperate climates experienced. I spent a good 16 years of my life idolizing the four seasons. The sweet scent of spring flowers, the warmth of summer and its fruits, the beautiful orange hues brought about by autumn and the pureness of snow in the winter. All my life, I had only known two types of weather. Rain and sun. I didn't experience much changes in my diet due to the season, with no strawberries to snack on, no squash to roast. Everything I knew about the four seasons came from books, movies, TV and anecdotes from friends.
I remember asking my aunt, who lived in Australia, what her favourite season was. Was it spring, because of the beautiful flowers blooming everywhere? Or winter, when you get to experience snow, make a snowman, snowballs and snow angels?(I have since learnt that it doesn't snow every temperate country, especially not in the part of Australia she or I live in.) Or autumn, because you could rake up all the leaves and toss them in the air? Or summer, where you can go to the beach and surf?
I spent my entire childhood fantasizing about what I never had. I remember going to Hong Kong for summer once, and it rained for our entire trip there. Is this summer? I wondered to myself. I went to Taiwan in winter and it never snowed. I went to Korea and had the chance to ski, but not the chance to experience persistent falling snow. Then I went Japan and was fortunate enough to experience falling snow, and realised that it wasn't as magical as it once seemed. Don't get me wrong, it was a magical moment, but I realised that it could be frustrating to have lots of snow because snow is essentially frozen rain which lands and your clothes and melts and makes your clothes damp. Then I came to Brisbane, Australia, where I've learnt that summer is 6 months long and everything else is squished into a tighter schedule.
I still remember the young me, reading books and imagining what it would be like to experience the four seasons. I remember yearning to travel, to experience what I never had, to see the world. I remember dreaming of studying in France, purely because I wanted to learn French. I remember my yearning to study in an overseas university, a dream that I am blessed to be able to fulfil. Sometimes I wish I could meet the young me, for I have much to tell her. Oh little one, there is so much the world has in store for you. And I promise, it will be worth the wait.

Ending life

I think about dying. A lot more than usual recently. Maybe a lot more than normal. But then again, I don't even know what the prescribed amount of time one should think about dying. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I killed myself. Would anyone care? I mean yeah, maybe people will take time to grieve but would anyone actually really miss me? Most people mourn, then they move on after a while. They eventually fill that void in their heart. And that's what I'll be. A replaceable, dispensible void. I'm tired. I'm tired of life. I think about killing myself sometimes, about slashing my wrists so that the physical pain can numb the emotional pain. Because sometimes I just want to watch myself bleed. The only reason I'm holding on right now is a rational one. It is that if I leave this earth, people will be hurt. Not emotionally, but financially. My parents will have a heavy burden to bear. Sometimes I think I need help, but I don't want to seek it. I want to be able to fix myself. But it's so hard. Even after I fix myself, I get spoilt again and I need to be repaired yet again. It's an endless cycle and I'm getting so sick of it.

My first lie

I was 5. My parents had decided to leave the house, probably to go on a date or something(which on hindsight, was a cute thing to do). My mum was in the toilet, washing up. She said she was going out with dad and I asked if I could go. My mum said, "Go and ask your dad." So I ran out to the living room and asked him. I don't think I caught what he said. But I ran back to my mum anyway, and asked her again. She asked me if dad said yes. I said yes. Then they talked, and I got in trouble because I "lied". Maybe I knew my dad's answer, but I can't recall the state of my mind at that point of time anymore. They brought me out anyway.
That was it. My first lie. The first sign that I had developed presupposition. And with that, a small part of my innocence left me.

Le Papillon

When I was 6, I had taken an interest to the French language. On hindsight, it was probably ignited by my obsession with Madeline, the cartoon. My uncle very kindly offered to tutor me and give me some very introductory lessons on the French language. To the curious ones out there, I have since stopped learning and I am inept in producing the /r/ sound. I can only say my Ps & Qs and count to three. I can say simple words like pomme, mademoiselle, madeleine, bon appetit. Don't try to get my to say croissant. I'd only be able to produce an abomination of it.
Moving on, I remember in that year, the movie Le Papillon was set to be released in theatres sometime at the end of the year. After seeing a newspaper advert for the movie, my mum promised me that she would bring me to the cinema to watch it. I can't recall if I was very excited for it. I know that there was some level of excitement, but I can't recall how high that level was.
Anyway, 2002 came and went. Le Papillon was released. After a couple of weeks, it stopped showing. My time to watch it had come and gone, but it had completely slipped my mum's mind. I turned 7 and had yet to watch Le Papillon. A couple of months later, my mum realised that she can broken her promise. That was my first broken promise. The first time anyone had made a promise to me and broke it. I will never forget it. I don't mean that I still hold a grudge against my mother about the movie. I don't. Eventually, I got to watch the movie when my mum tried to make it up to me by renting the DVD from the store to play it at home. But I will never forget this broken promise as a reminder for myself, not to make promises I cannot keep. I take the word promise very seriously. All my life, I have tried very hard to keep every promise I have made. I can probably count on one hand how many promised I have ever broken. (The biggest one was probably leaving church, but that's not a story for today.) I don't like to agree to things or discuss things that I don't think will happen. (i.e. when my friends say, let's go Fiji, and Whitsundays, and ____whatever country). I don't think it will happen so I don't see the point of raising my hopes and their hopes. Broken promises and broken agreements are soul-crushing, at least to me. It signifies a loss of trust in a person. Trust that took years to build up. That kind of trust can be broken in minutes or even seconds, when a promise is broken. And even more so if I have to break a promise that I made. I try so hard not to, because to break it means that I lose a part of myself, I lose a semblance of consistency in my morals. I become inconsistent in my identity and values. I become a hypocrite. And I won't be able to live with myself very well, staring in the mirror wondering what happened to the girl who kept her word, because that girl fell off the bandwagon. And even though she may get back on, people will always remember how she fell, and predict that one day, she will fall off again.