Old, but still young at heart

I was at the innocent age of 6 or 7 - not too sure - and in the process of growing up, when I was told of something which amazed me. We were on our way to church on a Sunday morning, and beside me sat Nanny. She was her usual self, chirpy and well-prepared with nonsensical inquiries regarding anything and everything that was mentioned during the entire journey. Inquiries or questions which weren't linked to any expectation for any answers as they were only brought up to fill in the gaps where silence crept its way in. Sort of like a cue-card thought which was just a contrivance to throw us off track so that we'd repeat ourselves and include her in the conversation. Cheeky, much. 

Along the way, Dad made a sharp turning and was on the Sungei Besi road. Seemingly more awake and alert that morning, it was the first time I bothered to look out of the window. Straight ahead on my right, slightly below the glowing white clouds that illuminated the dark sky which was slowly being dominated by lighter shades of blue, there was a lonely hangar. Airplanes, different sizes and models of airplanes were stored in there and being the thorn among the beautiful red roses, a big olive green beated- up helicopter stood out. It reminded me of the aircrafts that were summoned to war during the attack on Pearl Harbor. I ooh-ed and aah-ed and taking notice of the gleam in my eyes, Nanny told me that in her early days, she used to fly it. Being to little tell the difference between her lying and honest face, I believed her. She had the most innocent eyes, the kind of eyes children have and nothing in me could have imagined her feeling me lies - even if it was an innocent, little while lie. 

A few years later- more like a few months ago-  we passed by the hanger again when I suddenly pondered upon that little memory of what she had told me that day and retrieved it from the distant part of my brain it had been pocketed into. This time however, I started to doubt it. It was to the point where I couldn't just let it go so, taking advantage of the remaining time I had with her seated beside me, I decided to bring it up. As I ask her about the olive-green helicopter, interrogating her, I felt as if my conscience was laughing at me because after a few seconds too late, I realized how stupid it sounded. But of course - being senile but not deaf - she heard it, registered it for a while and without giving me a straight answer, she began to laugh her evil wicked-witch laugh. I knew then that she was just messing around with me, but even so, I sulked during the entire ride back home. 

This, coming from the person who taught me to always tell the truth and that even if it is a little white lie, it is still a lie, I couldn't believe it. I was disappointed and papaya-faced for the rest of the day. The 7 year-old me would have cried but the 18-year-old me just sat in the corner and kept to myself. I wondered if she would've told me the truth instead of feeding me those lies... but I then realized that it wouldn't matter either way. In this life, there are these people whom you can live without, people whom you can stay mad at and not give a damn if you ever forgive them or not. But then, on the other hand, there are also these handful of people whom you can scwabble with, have tiff after tiff and disagreement after disagreement...but at the end of the day, you'd realize that if it wasn't even your fault and if they weren't willing to apologize, you would do so anyway because you cherish the relationship more than you do your pride and ego. Nanny is one of those people in the latter category. 

I'm beginning to cherish and appreciate my grandma a little more these days, even though I know I should've started a long time ago. She's now sitting in the corner on her usual right-side of the sofa, catching the rays of sunlight that stream through the window as she leafs through the Sunday Times. I glance over to her every now and then and I think of the times I put my pride ahead of my better judgement, which lead to never-ending disagreements. I think of the times I raised my voice while trying to put my point across to her. I think of the times I shouted back at her when she was just advising me to be careful. I think and replay those horrible events and am washed over by a wave of regret. 

She's sitting only a few feet away from me and I miss her, and that's never a good way to miss someone. We haven't fought for a few weeks now and I'm beginning to believe that my Wednesdays aren't cursed after all. Nevertheless, I hope she knows I love her. After Grandpa passed away, she is the only one I have left and no matter what, there would always be a part of me that would be willing to do anything to see and make her happy. 

Swallowing my pride

There's a visibly huge gap which has been drawn in between the Internet world and myself, leaving me with never really much time to make a getaway to my little nook in the blogshere (which I often visit on a daily basis to at least draft my thoughts, if not write it out), let alone watch YouTube videos.

However, the other day, after Prissy posted this video on my Timeline (which took me a few days before I got to watching it) I managed to make time in my non-existent busy schedule to watch it and deny as I tried, I was caught up in the reality this video portrays about couples or to be more exact, two people who are in a relationship.

I never really gave much thought to the whole fight-and-make-up cycle couples go through but I know first-hand that what was going on with the couple in the video above, isn't far off from what I go through with my own unicorn. (Although, I wouldn't describe him as a unicorn because that's just weird. He is more along the lines of my Batman, or any kind of superhero who saves people from danger and no matter how many times he warns or advises to 'Be Careful' or 'Take Care', he'd still be there without a doubt.)

Him and I, we're pretty compatible. He respects my space and freedom and allows me to do whatever I want, as long as I keep the promises I've made to him regarding our relationship. He encourages me and doesn't stop me from doing the things I love to do. And even though we are miles and miles apart, there's always that 3 hours in a day I look forward to hearing his voice and to tell him every little detail of my day.

But like most couples, the times for arguments and quarrels not only existed, but prolonged as the months went by. Those times, they still do exist although not as frequent as before. Sometimes even the most littlest and stupidest things which, after moments later, would have been forgotten entirely. Come to think of it, most of the time, it's me who is to be blamed. I'd swallow my pride and admit it cause' it's the truth. More often than not, he's the one who takes up the role of the forgiver while I be the bad guy, breaking promises and his heart with the things that I mindlessly do. Thick invisible layers of hurt and anger filled the air and it was during those times when our relationship became exactly the way Josh described his relationship with Marissa:

 "We became one of those relationships where it wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. And let me tell you, that's never a good way to describe a relationship."

Things won't be turned-around immediately but there's a slight feeling of hope when by the end of the day, we put aside our different point of views, swallow our pride and apologize. Sometimes, due to human nature, we tend to take things for granted and look past the things that are important, the things that have been right in front of us all along. It's the decision we make from then on which allows us to realize how much we would rather apologize than risk the relationship with the person we love. All I know is that when it comes down to the sticky messes in our relationship, I wouldn't mind apologizing time and time again, even if it wasn't my fault (after putting up a fight, occasionally! Tee hee ), because he is worth it. He really is, and I'd rather say 'Sorry' than lose him.

And if someday the arguments and quarrels and fights gets too much for us to handle on our plates and drive us to god forbid, Stage 6: Downhill or Stage 7: Breaking up , I'd remember the time when him and I crossed paths and I'd always be thankful for that period of time. And I hope that wherever he is, he would be thankful too.

Win my heart

I was going about doing my daily blog-hopping ( tumblr- hopping is more like it) when I came across tons and tons of photographs with sayings and quotes which I kept saving and saving in my "Pictures" folder as if it were the most natural thing to do, as if I was on auto-pilot. 

Those photographs contained... well, you can read it for yourself. 

1# - Spend time with me. 

2# - Hold my hand. 

3# - Text me first. 

4# - Kiss me. 

5# - Make me laugh. 

6# - Put your arm around me. 

7# - Wrestle with me. 

8# - Argue with me. 

9# - Kiss my forehead. 

10# - Hug me from behind. 

11# - Go on adventures with me. 

12# - Make me feel special. 

13# - Cuddle with me. 

14# - Be playful. 

15# - Longboard with me.

16# - Watch the sunset with me. 

17# - Make me feel safe. 

18# - Have meaningful conversation. 

19# - Make funny faces. 

20# - Give me long hugs. 

21# - Surprise me. 

22# - Fall asleep with me. 

23# - Sing to me, even if you're terrible. 

24# - Don't give up on me. 

25# - Plan trips with me. 

26# - Love me. 

27# - Build a fort with me. 

28# - Hold my hand while you're driving. 

29# - Send me good morning texts. 

30# - Smile while kissing. 

31# - Watch movies with me. 

32# - Make the first move. 

33# - Introduce me to your family. 

34# - Be good with kids. 

I know it's pretty cheesy but hey, it's what most people wish their man would do or be like. After all, these are the little things to win our hearts. I'd know. 

And in all honesty, believe it or not, I happen to have someone in my life whom has experienced most of the above with me. Most of it anyway. If not soon, someday. 

via Tumblr. 

P.S - I'm sorry, this journal entry doesn't contain much raw or heart-felt material as I'm fighting for more time but this would do for now. Until next time! 

The truth hurts, but the lies are worst

This time, I'm not going to pour my heart out and apologize like I did time and time before because I realized that no matter how many times I do, "sorry" doesn't mean anything when I can't even guarantee my constant presence here; I'm not going to make resolutions that involve my being an avid blogger once again because God only knows if it's just going to be one of those things I say but never ever fulfill. And to complete this "I'm not..." string, I'm not going to turn my absence into a huge issue when it doesn't have to be. So let's move on.

I know I'm stating the obvious but it has been a long time since I've felt the need to blog. In this period of  "a long time", not so much as a spark of inspiration has lit the light bulb of my mind; not so much as a heart-thumping urge to run my fingers across the keyboard to voice my thoughts has crossed my conscience; and not so much as that unnerving feeling to speak my mind and speak it now has been felt. It isn't like before when that feeling to blog would come naturally, when I'd know from start to end of what I wanted to say. Sure, blogging would cross my mind every now and then but then that thought would fade away just as easily. 

Sigh, and I've lost all the patience to sum up the reasons as to why it has come to this. I just don't know anymore. 

Apart from the aforementioned, something happened which made me realize the importance of Trust, Honesty and Promises. 

Just recently, not too long ago, I lied. It wasn't a big deal deal to me because as much as I would hate to admit it, I lie all the time. My parents were and still are the primary victims; when they expect the truth from me, all they get is one lie after another. Then there are those people whom have walked into my life, innocent as ever, expectant of the truth when they ask of my opinion, when it is my point of view they seek or when I happen to be the only one they can depend on for the truth... but likewise, lies is what I feed them. 

I was once told after getting caught red-handed for lying that, "with every lie you tell, the truth would always prevail in the end because after you tell a lie, there would always be a constant need to cover up one lie after another... which doesn't always turn out to be such a success." I'm paraphrasing here as I don't remember exactly what Dad told me, but the meaning is all the same. Sure this sank in immediately and when it did, I repented. At that time, I had to go through a phase where I had lost my Dad's trust, when people wouldn't even ask for my opinion because they thought I'd only tell them what they wanted to hear instead of what I really thought. But that phase or period of time didn't last for long before I told the next lie. 

I couldn't help myself. It had already become a habit, a habit I couldn't curb.

I lied like nobody's business, abused the trust that had been bestowed upon me and broken promises until there came a point when people would just have to take my word instead of saying, "You promise?" But this time, it was different. 

As insignificant as those lies were to me, it was significant enough for him to bother and to be hurt by them. This time, when I got caught lying, all I wanted to do was run away like I always did but instead there was that unsettling feeling that held me back, that made me realize that running away wouldn't solve anything. So I didn't. I stayed, told him the truth and nothing but the truth and explained my actions because he deserved to know - even though those lies were nothing to me. 

And he managed to make me see how wrong my actions were, when no one else, not even my parents could. He knocked some sense into my and made me realize that no matter how little a lie is, it is still a lie and the hurt it brings people ain't all that little. He made me realize that love alone isn't that strong of an anchor to hold a relationship down when lies are constantly being told - how can you say you love him/her when you keep lying? 

That night, my heart sank and it was suddenly clear to me that if I so much as had to lie to anyone, if it was so inevitable, he shouldn't have to be a victim of those lies. Not him alone, but all those I love. That night, I saw how much just a little white lie could shatter someone's whole being. And I told myself that no one should hurt that way because of a lie. 

This time, I didn't apologize because sometimes you can never be too sure if it's going to be the last time. Instead, I told him that. "We're not perfect, any of us. We make mistakes, we screw up." And this time, for the second time, he took my hand, kissed it, and we made a promise to always be honest - even if there would be a possibility to lie to the other every now and then. 

With that, he forgave me. 

P.S - Happy Eid Mubarak 11' folks! Maaf Zahir & Batin. 

Sans vous

It's my first time commuting all the way to college on my own. Luckily, since I had a lot of time before class started, I could tag along with my mum. It is beyond me why that woman (my mum) would hop on a train and go through all that hassle of going backward (to Gombak) and then forward again (to Kelana Jaya), just for a seat. But oh well, I followed anyhow. After 16 stations, I arrived at KL Sentral. I got off the train, galloped down the long flight of stairs, went through the exit and as I walked along the pathway to get to where I was going, I began to feel a certain loneliness, like I was missing something. True enough, I was missing something - him. The only time I ever step foot in KL Sentral is to meet up with him - KL Sentral is our central meeting point, by the way - but this time, there was a different purpose: college. I was forced to go about the same route I usually take with him to go to the KL Monorail on occasions we decide to spend time in the city.

I felt out of place, honestly, and as lonely as ever.

The pathway we'd walk on, hand-in-hand, playfully trying to walk within the tiles while he had his arm around me; the signboards we'd point out to each other and laugh at because a missing letter turned a word from "agile" to "gile", sent a wave of emotion to wash up on the shores of my mind. All these familiar signboards, pathways and the memories that came along with it was nothing without him - it all suddenly felt unfamiliar, like they were memories belonging to someone else. With every step I took, I felt a little more melancholy, a little more unnerved, and a little more hopeless.

It has only been 4 days since I last saw him and already I'm feeling this agitated. I wonder what's going to happen now that I have to wait for another 3 weeks until he comes home. I just hope I remain a sound mind.

P.S - Just yesterday, at the perfect timing, he let me listen to this. Something temporary to calm me down, perhaps? And he's all the comes to mind.

I'd rather not

The transformation of marriage from a business deal to a badge of emotional affection has weakened the institution considerably over time—because marriages based on love are, as it turns out, just as fragile as love itself. Just consider my relationship with Felipe and the gossamer thread that holds us together. To put it simply, I do not need this man in almost any of the ways that women have needed men over the centuries. I do not need him to protect me physically, because I live in one of the safest societies on earth. I do not need him to provide for me financially, because I have always been the winner of my own bread. I do not need him to extend my circle of kinship, because I have a rich community of friends and neighbors and family all on my own. I do not need him to give me the critical social status of “married woman,” because my culture offers respect to unmarried women. I do not need him to father my children, because I have chosen not to become a mother—and even if I did want children, technology and the permissiveness of a liberal society would permit me to secure babies through other means, and to raise them alone.

So where does that leave us? Why do I need this man at all? I need him only because I happen to adore him, because his company brings me gladness and comfort, and because, as a friend’s grandfather once put it, “Sometimes life is too hard to be alone, and sometimes life is too good to be alone.” The same goes for Felipe: He needs me only for my companionship as well. Seems like a lot, but it isn’t much at all; it is only love. And a love-based marriage does not guarantee the lifelong binding contract of a clan-based marriage or an asset-based marriage; it cannot. By unnerving definition, anything that the heart has chosen for its own mysterious reasons it can always unchoose later—again, for its own mysterious reasons. And a shared private heaven can quickly descend into a failed private hell.


All lovers, even the most faithful lovers, are vulnerable to abandonment against their will. I know this simple fact to be true, for I myself have abandoned people who did not want me to go, and I myself have been abandoned by those whom I begged to stay. Knowing all this, I will enter into my second marriage with far more humility than I entered into my first. As will Felipe. Not that humility alone will protect us, but at least this time we’ll have some.

An old Polish adage warns: “Before going to war, say one prayer. Before going to sea, say two prayers. Before getting married, say three.”
I myself intend to pray all year.

I'm currently reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed, which is the continuation of her best-selling memoir, Eat, Pray, Love.  And above are excerpts which have spoken to me and have touched me on a certain level.

As I dive deeper and deeper into this book, I learn that well, women don't really benefit from marriage as much as men do. I learn that there are still clans and ethnic groups in different parts of the world - Laos, especially - who encourage marriage not because two people love each other but because it is only through marriage that a community/clan would benefit. And what is that benefit, you ask? The never-ending production of more and more babies! But apart from what I learned (and I learned a lot), I've grown to admire the relationship Liz and Felipe have.

Reading how she describes her relationship with this amazing man reminds me of a quote from the movie Rumor Has It (2005), where Sarah (Jennifer Aniston) confronts the man whom all the women in her family have slept with by saying...

"I didn’t come here to tell you that I can’t live without you. I can live without you. I just don’t want to."

I find beauty in that quote alone because to love a person wholeheartedly and admit to being able to live without him/her takes courage, a whole bucketful of courage. I admire that. So much that if I ever fall in love, with the right person, I'd want to be able to know that I can live without him although I'd rather not. I want it to be up to me, instead of steering into the direction the wind blows me.   

It's different with you

It's funny how one moment a girl tells herself over and over again, takes an oath, or even pledges that she will never fall or give her heart so easily to just any guy and the next thing you know... she does fall and give her heart away, knowing deep down that he'll never have an expiry date. This girl, just so happens to be me.

This person - I didn't exactly meet him nor were we properly introduced. It was a chilly, dark, starry night at camp and he was just some boy who, along with his group of friends, walked pass me and shyly said "Hi!" and asked my friend for my name while we were making our way back from the medic. He was the same boy who on the same night, after supper, was coincidently right behind me as I made my way back to the medic. We made small talk for awhile; he asked me if my inflamed tonsils were healed and before we went our separate ways... it was the first time he asked me to dream of him.

I met him when I stepped out of my comfort zone and into the complete different environment that is my PLKN campsite at Gopeng, Perak and it never even for a second crossed my mind that I might possibly meet that one person and feel this way.

I feel like a little girl, meeting a boy for the first time, not sure of what I feel but not bothered to question myself either. It is like being pierced by several arrows all at once, feeling that stabbing pain like electric current in your veins you can't help but ( in a weird way), enjoy. These feelings inside of me, I can't seem to make sense out of them nor succeed at my attempt to sum them up... so I'm just going to let them linger within me, sit back and wait for time to tell if it is meant to last.

With the whirlwind of change that has been happening all around me (Think burying of hatches, incurable illness, impossible deadlines, lack of time management and sleep, contemplating on collegial related issues) while I am stuck right smack in the center of it all, I thank God that He kept that one person a constant, whom was either cracking me up in every open opportunity with his crazy and quirky antics or being the refuge I run to when I was in need of morale support by his heartrending words of comfort.

I don't know what he is doing to me but as seconds turn into minutes and hours turn into days, he is slowly occupying every aspect of my life, especially my vacant heart. He is the reason why instead of spending my time writing and engaging in my personal space (not to mention sleeping in early), I am being lured into the whirlpool of missing him and thinking of him more often than I know I should.

A good friend of ours once pointed out saying, "The distance in between two people will either tear them apart... or bring them closer together. In your case, it is not going to tear the both of you apart". I have to admit that when I first heard this, I found it to be bogus and to my ears, it sounded as if he was talking gibberish. But boy was I wrong to deny it. If anything, the distance between this person and I, has birthed an unexplainable level of missing the other party so much and yearning for each other's presence thus, resorting to past-midnight phone calls - almost every night - for comfort. Simply because the distance that lingers in the space between us does not quite provide us with much option, anyway.

Although, despite the circumstances we are up against, we have decided to take each day as a challenge. Isn't that the only way to know for sure if a relationship is built on solid ground?

Well, all I know is I cannot think straight and my mind is filled with thoughts of him. Be it the way the sides of his eyes curl at the edge when he smiles, or the way he can't stay mad at me for a long period of time. Everything about him, as little as they are, is slowly dominating every vacant space in my heart... and I am surprisingly allowing it. I simply cannot oppose him even if I wanted to. Instead, I am slowly unravelling my feelings for him as they come, accepting and taking in everything that makes him him.

There's something about him that is... different, as cheesy as this may sound. Different in what way, I'm uncertain but maybe I say he is diffrent and this feels different because...

Well, for one, he can be compared to being a rose among thorns. He was the first guy who, despite shaking anxiously inside and nervousness being written all over his face, got face-to-face with me and asked me to be his girlfriend. I still remember every look upon his face, how fuelled with uncertainty of what my answer might be - I said "Yes", of course. He was the first guy who took the time to write me a love letter, despite how eventful and taxing our days at camp were. It wasn't the kind that was long and poetic, nor would it win the title of The Best Love Letter but it came from an honest heart. And to me, that was what mattered most.

With him, I could not say "No." I could not make up an excuse to push him away and remain as just friends. I could not think straight about the consequences that might surface in the long run. I could not stop my heart from racing when he smiled my way. I could not help but look back when he looked at me a million times from across the hall. I blushed and told him how crazy he was but I secretly liked it. When he tells me that he has never felt the way he does with me, I can't help but believe him. As for relationship's challenging friend 'Trust', let's just say that there's an easiness that comes along with trusting him, as foolish as it may sound. The comfortability that has blossomed from the times we have spent together is still so hard believe because never before have I felt like I could tear down my walls and be completely myself with anyone. Until him. Heck, I can even eat a burger in front of him and not care about what he would think.

If you are reading this Mr, you should know that you have changed me. I may have told you this before, but I would like to say it again. From the moment I met you, you have opened my eyes to new things and experiences. You taught me how to be considerate of the feelings people have around me and treat them the way I would like to be treated in return. You encouraged me to eat with my hands when I confessed to you that I have never done so before, to wash my own clothes when you found out how much of a spoilt brat I was; to be independent. And ever since, you have made me want to be a better person, to be the best in all I can be. You make me happy, truly happy - the way no one else could (can)- and having you by my side is something I would not have any other way. No if's, but's or maybe's.

You're not the first person I have said "I love you" to nor were you the first guy to sweep me off my feet, but right here and right now, my past has been burried and forever will it remain that way because I know who I want in my present and that is you. You are the place where every "I love you" can now call home and the reason why my heart feels at peace in knowing that it now has a purpose to continue beating.

I may not know what the future has in store for us but of course I will continue to hope. I mean, how can I not? It's you, and it's me and our whole lives ahead of us. I would tell you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you - I wish there was some way to secure that statement - but you see, I don't want to make promises that are inevitable to keep. At the same time, letting you go shouln't be the alternate option, or any option for that matter. It can't be. But if one day, god forbid, it has to come to that... I know that it won't be an easy task. Like fire and rain we are, driving each other insane but somehow nothing can keep us apart. And I can only hope that you would continue to be the fire that will drive me insane on the rainy days I face.

A wise woman once told me before that, "If it is meant to be, it will be." And at that time, I was a curious little being, always wanting to take things into my own hands. Hence, doubting what I heard and then naively medling with destity. I learned my lesson. So now, let's just live in the moment and embrace the beauty of the unknown, just you and me.

P.S - I drafted this post a few days after I had completed my National Service training and after weeks of complete utter madness and distraction - be it at work or at home - it is finally done.

Food Diaries

I have not been eating much lately, mostly due to my recent and freqent lost of appetite, mood and the lazyness that creeps up on me during meal hours. I hardly even crave for anything anymore.

But when I do eat - or am forced to eat - my meals would mainly consist of mostly 'cow food', as my sister would call it, which is of lots and lots of green vegetables, herbal soups, wholemeal, muesli, cereal, salads and etcetera.

My friends think I am a lunatic, or maybe just an old lady because everytime I go out to have either lunch or dinner with them, I'd order a salad and a hot cup of green tea for myself while they carefreely indulge in anything but what I eat.

As for my Grandma's opinion in this whole paranoid eating routine of mine, well, she thinks I have lost my mind; she can't stand how picky I am with food these days.

I wouldn't blame her for feeling such annoyance towards my recent couldn't-care-less attitude for food because when I was younger, I was given the privillage to request for whatever I felt like eating (especially on my birthday) and Nanny would be more than happy to cook, to go all out for me. But now, I am just not bothered anymore. And she is sadly giving up.

There is a little wall piece that hangs in the corner of her kitchen; a saying she firmly stands by - "I am the queen of this kitchen. If you don't agree, STARVE."

I am starving alright; starving myself from heavenly food, that is. Weird, but hey, not jumping on the same wagon as most of my friends who call themselves Chocolate-lovers has already won me the title of being just plain weird so, shoot!

I think, though, that weird can be coupled with guilt to describe my love-hate relationship with food. Or maybe I am just paranoid.

"Eat to live". Yes, that's the saying I live by. A pity, maybe, but I don't mind.




P.S - Never have I dedicated an entry just to rant about food or my relationship with it. Cheers to a first and many more to come!

Long, lonely nights

These past couple of days, I would lay in bed at night and just stare blankly at the ceiling. Uncertain of whether to keep my fingers busy by tweeting or just lay there in the comfortable stillness. My cellphone would be beside me on the bedside table, useless, until the clock strikes midnight - that is when he usually calls. Otherwise, I would give into the unsettling thoughts in my mind which have been impatiently seeking my attention. Last night, that was exactly what I did.

I laid awake, prised my eyes open and instead of tossing and turning and trying to sleep, I allowed my mind to wander because it has been awhile since I have had some alone time with my conscience. I allowed myself to be drowned in my thoughts, lost in curiosity and bewilderrment. And when I did, it was a battle with my mind and heart as I was forced to deal with the harsh realization that I may not be the same person I used to be a few months back. Let alone, a few years ago.

Back in the days when I would dream out loud, I told myself that I would do this and that. I set personal goals for myself just so that I could prove to myself that I was an achiever. And then came the promises I made to make sure I followed through with every goal/resolution I told myself I would do. I told myself that I would only apply for a job when I absolutely had to; that if I ever did, nothing would change at home. I had made up my mind: I was going to college (not to mention how excited I was) and further my studies in Mass Communication, in the field of Journalism. At the same time, I wanted to have a career in singing. I planned to take part in singing competitions, sing at open-mic nights, sign a recording deal and win my ticket to stardom. I had dreams too big for this town, you see.

Now, as I look back to the little dreamer I was and see the life I had once painted for myself and compare it to the path of life I am now walking on, all I see is a coward. A coward because I allowed things to take a turn for the worse right before my eyes, while I stood back and watch. It is the truth, sadly. Everything I did not want to happen, happened.

I will be starting college soon and a whole new chapter of my life will begin, but I am not as excited anymore. No matter how made up I thought my mind was before, reality intervened and now instead of furthering my studies in Mass Communication, I would be doing my Foundations in Law first and then it would be my Diploma in Mass Communication but I am not sure if Journalism is for me anymore. I did not take part in singing competitions but instead am now starting to do covers. My relationship with my Grandma has been on rocks recently. I used to come home from school so happy that I would finally get to see her, spend time with her and tell her about my day but now...we're back to being complete strangers. And I miss her, more than she will ever know.

Sickeningly so, I feel like I have lost apart of myself, apart of the person I used to be. And not only is this truth hurting myself but also the people around me. Oh God, I wish there was some way I could turn back the hands of time. This thing I have been struggling with Change is unbearable, leaving me more often than not, with a heavy heart.

I guess all I can do now is hope - for the strength to carry on, to cope because even when the familiarity of everything around you changes, you may not be able to conform to it and sometimes all a person needs to do and can do is just...hope.

Go, by all means.

If wanting you to not take that collegial offer and stay here with me makes me selfish, then by all means go. I am not going to stand in the way of a man and his dreams. No matter how much I love you, you've gotta do what you've gotta do.

In the deep

Instead of beating around the bush and justifying my recent absence in this monotonous space I still call my little nook, I shall just proceed and give you the low-down on what has been going on around the clock these past few days - or weeks, if perhaps it felt that way.

• The Swedish- Malaysia Innovation Days 2011 project I was assisting in has been drawn to a close after five successful days of innovation outreach. I was beyond thrilled that it turned out to be a successful event, and also thrilled that it is now finally over. I can finally lean back in my chair and take a breather. 
• And because I was assisting in the above project, I received the privilege of attending The Noble Gala Dinner upon invitation from the Ambassador himself - Meeting Jimmy Choo and Mr. Astronaut was the exciting part of my night. After that, the delicious gourmet food won me over. 
• Driving Ed class has not been too tedious to handle, except for the part where I am taught of things I need to go through trial and error to perfect. For instance, learning how to park. Three classes down, one more to go. Or on Dad's opinion, many more classes to go! 
• The days I spent at work only getting paid for my presence, while I kill time by going on Facebook and Twitting are long gone. 
• I've been promoted to be at the Reception as I might be replacing the current receptionist. So in the meantime, she's teaching me all that I need to know to get by. It's a lucky thing that I am a fast learner, or I am told.
• "Trying to make it work but man these times are hard. But we're gonna start by drinking old cheap bottles of wine, sit talking up all night, saying things we haven't for a while. We're smiling but we're close to tears even after all these years. We just now got the feeling that we're meeting... for the first time." In most parts, these lyrics summed up what him and I were going through.  
• I feel like I have lost apart of me I know I will never get back. 
•  I'm losing my writer's touch, after weeks of being so hung up on work, sleeping in early and spending most of my free time engaged in gallivants around the city... Ugh, I have no one else but myself to blame. 
•  The shopaholic in me has been dominating the shopping savvy root I chose to take earlier this year. I'm a spendthrift, though and through. After all the impulse purchasing I did recently, it is a lucky thing I have my mum to control my spendings and allowance and thank goodness also that I do not own a credit card. Then, I would be bringing my broke ass home! 
•  It was so easy to exercise when I had all the time in the world but now, it is a constant struggle I am up against. I need to get back up and re-start my healthy lifestyle. I MUST. 

The month of May is slowly drawing to a close and soon the year will welcome all the excitement June has to offer. I am not going to complain about the month of May being too hard to handle because as long as I have lived to realize, there never has been an easy month... Besides, even though May has not been easy on me, it has been a month of reflection- allowing me to dig deeper beyond the surface of what I chose to portray. And if there is one thing this month has taught me, it is to be stronger.

All about your heart

Oh, I’ve loved you from the start

In every single way

And more each passing day

You are brighter than the stars

Believe me when I say

It’s not about your scars

It’s all about your heart

Amazing Grace 2011

So, I'm finally home from the Amazing Grace event which was clued and mapped all the way to Kuantan. Unlike the last Amazing Grace which I participated with my family, this required more of my participation as we worked together as a team to unlock each and every clue that was given to us, which if I may add, would be the only way we could get lead back to our hotel. The entire race was spent seated in a old, beated-up, unair-conditioned Proton Saga, which made our butts ache, skin even tanner than it already is, and sweat drip all over our body (which isn't as turning on as it sounds, by the way).

Upon arriving at the Bukit Gambang Resort City - Waterpark Resort, Jemimah and I checked into a room which we had to share with the Dorai's. We didn't get a room to ourselves because 1) we didn't pay for a room and 2) the entire hotel was fully booked due to it being Labour's Day. So our sleeping arrangments had to be altered and rooms had to be exchanged in the end. But it was alright, we understood. What we - I -  did not understand was the long and complicated roots we each had to take just to get around the hotel. It was as if we were caught in a maze and there was no easy exit. Absolutely ridiculous, if I may say so.

Despite not having a room to ourselves, the amount we paid for entitled us to free Waterpark tickets which wasn't valid until the second day. So when the sun scorched in the sky during midday the following day, a large group of us youths hopped on the tram and was dropped off right at the entrance of the Waterpark. All the pent up hype and excitement that drove me to attend this year's Amazing Grace was dampened right then and there when we saw the unbelievable number of cars parked along the roadside but the worst was yet to come. When we walked in, the impossible crowd was even more unbelievable. Wet, sweaty and sandy bodies were everywhere. With such a huge crowd present, rules are expected to be broken. And they were. The "No smoking" sign that was stabbed into the ground was a big joke. The queues to each ride was annoyingly long and winding, setting off my patience. I couldn't take it anymore so by 5pm, after engaging in a game of beach football and watching my peeps go neck-to-neck with each other, I decided to pack up and head back to the hotel. I was worn out.

Holidays are supposed to be a relaxing and self-discovering retreat from reality, aren't they? But I can't possibly consider this 3 day stay to be such because it was not even close. For the most part, it was exhausting. As much of an early-nighter I was and no matter how early I tried to get myself to sleep, I didn't manage to get enough hours anyway.Yes, there is a hidden explanation behind this statement but no I will not voice it out here. But what I can regretfully say is that I missed so much. While the night was still young for my roommates, I was the odd one out catching up on some shut-eye. I even missed the much anticipated game of Mafia on the last night. That was a bummer.  

I guess what really tired me out though was the continuous annoyance and disturbance I received from Ben whom made full use of his ever so sarcastic antics, never missing out on an oppurtunity to insert either an insulting or too-good-to-be-true remark about something I did or said. But despite how exhausting it was to be his source of amusement, I have to admit that it was at the same time the very thing that brightened up my day. His constant teasing was the rope that pulled me back from being sucked into a whirlpool of emotion. 


Parallel to the exhaustion each day left on my sun-kissed skin, I was also dealing with matters of the heart which lead to mood swings as the aftermath. Hence, constantly being the odd one out among my group of friends. The distance that is in-between that certain someone and I and the time we rarely have together was and is the sole reason of it all. It is hard enough that we live so far apart and I think I made it even harder for him when I left for Kuantan, even if it was in the span of three short days. I could tell by the change in his voice when he confessed, so sad and tear-filled with sniffs in between.

"If I could, I would have never gave you the green light to leave." He said, in the most saddest tone I have ever heard from him.

"But dear, it's just for three days. If I didn't go on this trip, it's not like I can spend time with you anyway. You'll be busy at work." I said, trying to make him understand.

"Yes, I know that. But when I come home from a long day's work, I doubt I'd be able to pick up the phone and call you because you'd be so busy. There won't be any time left for me during those three days." He replied, worried.

"I'd always make time when it comes down to you, you know that." I said, attempting to make him feel better.

"Yeah, sure. We'll see about that." He said, giving up. Half-believing, half-accepting.

But it was not just about me leaving to Kuantan, it was the change that was taking place in our lives, our busy schedules intervening in our relationship. Twenty four hours in a day and we only get to spend (at most) two hours with each other, and that too, is only via phone call. It was the strain that has been on our relationship due to prolonged arguments about petty issues. It was about how both of us have changed in our relationship, so much so that it sometimes feels like things can never return to the way they once were - the comfort I find in him, the openness, the shared inside jokes, the exchange of secrets, him being the one person I can depend on to cheer me up; the one person I do not have to worry about being myself with.

I miss it. I miss it all. I miss him. The him I am referring to is the man I met at camp, the one who would stare at me from across the room just to see if I had noticed it. The one that did not sweep me off my feet but managed to creep his way into my heart. Him. 

Sitting at the staircase I was when thoughts of him, me, us, everything floaded my mind. And at that time, I wished for nothing more than for time to fly faster so that I could return home.

Two days later, my wish was granted. Without hesitation, I packed my belongings and parked my luggage at the front door, ready to drag it out when it was time. My mind pretty much spaced out when I sat by the balcony, killing time as I allowed my thoughts to flood my mind. I then also realized that I wasn't feeling the way I usually do when a trip or a vacation draws to a close. There was neither a hidden longing to prolong this trip and stay for a few more days nor an urge to head home immediately. In fact, I couldn't have cared less. My feelings were pretty neutral. 

Right now, being at home and sitting in-front of my laptop, I know that this is where I want to be - and would rather be. But if I were given the chance to do it all over again - ROAD TRIP! - I would do so in a heartbeat. This trip may not have been a self-discovering journey for me, nor did it feed my wide eyes to wonder, but if there is something I got out of this trip... it is that there is no harm in trying again. After all, that's how my team and I ended up walking away with the 15th place.






P.S- This post has been prolonged for weeks now and I just thought that it was time I finished writing it up and do it some justice.   
   

Just fucking live

Beautiful people

I'm a big, big girl in a big, big world.

So I managed to survive a week of my first ever working experience - excluding my day off on Good Friday and weekends, that is - and if I were to describe it, I would say that it was not such a bad first-job experience. Before I left the office on Thursday, a few of my colleagues asked me how I found working for the first time and all they received in return were two words; It's alright. Every now and then, I get asked the same question. Those people would also received and it's alright. And maybe sometimes when I feel like it, I would add, it wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. But that would be the end of it.

For those whom I have held a good and solid conversation with might realize that I am not one for simple and curt answers but when it comes down to comprehending my feelings of being in a world - the working world - I have yet to adjust myself to, short and curt answers are all I find myself uttering. Perhaps it takes getting used to it first, so let's just leave it to time.

Allowing time to determine how well I adjust to my surroundings is one thing, just accepting the circumstances, being grateful and taking in all that is around me is another. Sometimes, I admit, that I am selfish. I am too damn ungrateful. And I sometimes have my head stuck in the clouds of pride and ego. I tend to complain a lot and even when I know I am far better off than most people, I sometimes am still not satisfied.

It took a train ride from home to work, with 8 stations in between for me to realize how good I have it. 

• I was handed a job in the palm of my hands just to kill time and keep myself occupied. 
• I get paid RM100 a day just by faxing invitations for upcoming events and calling up sectaries to confirm their bosses attendance at the event. 
• I am surrounded by colleagues who are fun, easy-going and so very comfortable to be around. 
• I have the best and most generous boss anyone could ask for. 
• Coffee breaks and reasonable deadlines.
• My own desk complete with a desktop and internet access. 

What more can I ask for? 

____________

I commute from home to work via public transport and it was in-between one of those train rides when I began to realize how long I have been behind closed doors, oblivious to what is on the other side.

Seated in the LRT, on my way back home that Wednesday evening, without my earphones plugged in my ears, I let my eyes and mind wander. I took in the busyness and craziness of my surroundings and managed to see and realize what I have not before.

For one thing, I realized people. Sure this may sound a bit too absurd because I have obviously noticed people during my many travels via any mode of transportation and anywhere I go but what I mean now is people - raw, original and flawed people.

As I comfortably sat on the train, watching and observing each and everyone within my radius - and range of sight, of course - I noticed as people await for their destination and move towards the doors to rush out and get replaced by a new swarm of people, sometimes familiar and sometimes just a complete stranger to me.

Stranger or not, something within me made me want to get to know them. Learn about their backgrounds, their past. I suddenly became so inquisitively curious, wanting answers to each and every question I mentally asked myself. But I wasn't shameless enough to succeed.

It then dawned on me that it did not matter if I got to know them through and through, it did not matter if I received answers to my questions. At the end of the day, I realized that they were significant to me because at one point, we crossed paths.

Be it the guy who sold me my latest pair of jeans. Or the madam who does not know how to respect the confined space that is the train by literally screaming into her phone. The little girl whose hand is wrapped around her mum's finger, wanting to wander off but in need of stability as well. The man whom is in his own little world, with earphones plugged in his ears. The guy who kicked his pen out of annoyance because it fell to the ground when he was trying to put it in his breast pocket. Foreigners with a whole lot of luggage, awaiting their destination.

People. Different, crazy, original and all that rhymes with it... but still so very beautiful.

And I think to myself, Why haven't I noticed all of this before? Not wasting time, the answer comes immediately; I was probably blinded and side-tracked by everything being so convenient in my life. So much till' my mind does not even wander off to foreign surroundings, or better yet, be thankful of the simple things.

When the electric doors open at my destination, I stand up and walk out with a smile across my face.


Before I sign off, enjoy.

Sincerely, your pet.

I never really log into my e-mail account and check my e-mails as often, even though I am reminded time and time again of its importance for me to do so. But today, I did just that and while marking off birthday reminders and forwarded messages to 'delete', I stumbled upon an e-mail I received from my aunt in the month of March (you can only imagine how floaded with e-mails my account was!) which made me....how do I put it? Think and reflect? Yes, that is it.

First I stumbled upon this:

Meet Brutus, a military K9 at McCord.

He's huge - part Boxer and part British Bull Mastiff and tops the scales at 200 lbs. His handler took the picture. Brutus is running toward me because he knows I have some Milk Bone treats, so he's slobbering away! I had to duck around a tree just before he got to me in case he couldn't stop, but he did. Brutus won the Congressional Medal of Honor last year from his tour in  Iraq . His handler and four other soldiers were taken hostage by insurgents. Brutus and his handler communicate by sign language and he gave Brutus the signal that meant 'go away but come back and find me'. The Iraqis paid no attention to Brutus. He came back later and quietly tore the throat out of one guard at one door and another guard at another door. He then jumped against one of the doors repeatedly (the guys were being held in an old warehouse) until it opened. He went in and untied his handler and they all escaped. He's the first K9 to receive this honor. If he knows you're OK, he's a big old lug and wants to sit in your lap.

Then before the e-mail ended, this:

A Pet's 10 Commandments. 

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me

3. Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.

4. Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.

5. Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.

7. Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.

8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.

9. Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.

10 On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

___________

P.S - Sparing a few minutes to read this made me think and reflect on the way I treat animals, in general. I confess that I'm not exactly a huge animal lover - I'm too picky - but there's a certain level of respect and compassion in knowing that they are living, breathing creatures as well.

And ince we're on the subject, I should also confess to not being a huge fan of cats, felines... whatever. I dislike them too much out of fear more than it is out of any other reason. Heck, I'll mind my business if they mind theirs.

Apart from the aforementioned, this e-mail mostly reminded me of the love and compassion I had for my Ginger; the sweetest and most caring companion and everything an owner could ask for. This recently rediscovered photo brought back all those memories of when she was still present in my life. I miss her.

Crap, I'm at the brink of my emotions. So, fullstop.

Wind in my hair

I cannot remember the last time I stayed at home for the whole day, without having made plans or being involved in upcoming events, in an entire week because as far as I can remember, it has been a really really long time since then. This past few days have been spent engaging myself in gallivants around town, be it to catch up with my friends, accompany Nanny to the hairdressers or spend the last few days of freedom idly before I start work the following week.

Yes, Work. Even typing this four letter word out is building up the feeling of awkwardness within me, or maybe it is just that getting-a-job-and-working-for-the-first-time feeling I have yet to get used to. I am not sure as to why this whole getting-a-job thing is seeming so alien to me, but I guess it is because I have never thought or even considered working once I have graduated from high-school. Maybe it was because of pride and ego, and maybe I was ashamed of what my friends might think when they saw me busting tables or behind the cashier. Whatever it was, it kept me from exploring what was outside in the real world - the working world. While my friends were off working shifts and taking part-time jobs to earn their own money or a little extra cha-ching cha-ching, I either bummed out at home or spent hours as far away from it as possible. Heck, I even told myself that if I was going to work anywhere, it would not be within the radius of the people I know. But looking back now on all my irrational and no-brainer reasons that prevented me from applying for a job, I realize, were my insecurities. 

Which, I am proud to announce, have finally been dealt with. 

So next week, instead of enrolling into college as initially planed, I'm starting my first real job. Not a busting-tables job nor a behind-the-cashier job, but a desk job... at the Swedish Embassy. All thanks to Shameetha's ever-so-cool Mum.

This should be my motto from now onwards:

 

On another note, and to the satisfaction of a certain someone, I have been learning  my way around the kitchen - especially on the stove. It is about time, as Mum pointed out, for me to learn how to cook. So on days when I do stay at home and last throughout the evening without giving into my itchy feet to go out, I would assist Nanny during her cooking sessions. It is not easy, of course - standing for hours and hours, sweating non-stop, making sure to put the ingredients in at the right timing... etc - but I am willing to learn. Not because I am forced to do so, but because I need to.

And maybe soon... just like everything else I set my mind to, I would learn to love it. Just maybe.

The other thing I have got to learn how to love is... being legally 18. It is scary sometimes, knowing that I am free to do whatever the heck I want but at the same time have bigger and heavier responsibilities weighed upon my shoulders.

Once again, I find myself asking Where did all the time go?. And once again I keep reminding myself to just... live.

Wouldn't trade it for the world

Relationships come with a lot of tribulations. We fight, we yell, we get jealous, we cry, we feel pain, we hurt, we scream, we get frustrated, we get angry, we get upset, we break up and our emotions take us over. So why do we do it? Why would we want to feel not just sad, but truly hurt, sad to the point where your whole body hurts just because of one person, sad to the point where you feel empty when everything falls apart, sad to the point where your heart aches for the company of that being. I’ll tell you why I do it, its because besides all those moments when your stupidity gets in the way of what your truly feeling and you “fight”, the moments when you are truly loving someone are the most touching, astounding, magnificent moments you will ever experience. When two people are just loving each other its magical. And to those of you who are to scared of getting hurt and too scared of the baggage that comes with relationships, let me tell you this, having someone you love and having them love you back is a feeling that you can not substitute. Having someone look at you with such a deep emotion is remarkable. Having someone touch with so much care brings a feeling of weightlessness throughout your whole body. Having someone whisper they love you feels like they screamed it. Having someone to hold your hand at all times just feels special. Having someone to be your best friend and be loyal to you and never lie to you feels so safe. So yeah, relationships suck, breaking up hurts, but having that someone that you feel so comfortable with, someone that you let inside your soul, someone that lets you inside theirs, someone to talk to at all hours during the day, someone to laugh with, someone to fall asleep with, having someone that is your other half
for whatever amount of time you are together, is true beauty and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

- LeLove.

She's apart of our family

The unpredictability and hecticness of the days that have come and gone has blown in another day for me to spare; Friday. I am not, by any means, stating this out of relief that the weekend is a day away but out of sadness and melancholy that our days with Aunt Manisah and her daughter in our residence have been narrowed down to two. And soon, it would be that time again when hugs and well wishes will be exchanged and goodbyes will be said.

Tonight, at the Mani's residence, a farewell/birthday party was initiated for her. Everyone, from close relatives to family friends who knew her, chipped in their time and effort to make it all possible. A wide spread of glorious food was laid out on the dining table, mostly home-cooked made out of love. Uncle Kevin willingly helped Nanny out at the kitchen by volunteering to do a dish - his true speciality, Pasta. Seeing it as an open opportunity, I took the liberty to learn his dish. He was nice (and patient) enough to teach me by starting off with the basics - I had to chop onions and garlics, grate carrots, half-fry the ham and then stir and stir and stir some more until my hand ached. He guided me through the recipe and in the end, I was given the rights to say that I made the dish.

By a quarter to 8 pm., when guests started filling up the living room, Aunt Manisah was escorted from her room by her daughter to engage in what turned out to be a memorable night. Dinner was served and shortly afterwards, so was desert... and then followed by a cake. As she sat at the head of the table with everyone else surrounding her, singing her a birthday song and saying prayers for her, her expression gave away the strong front she was trying to put up. She was so overwhelmed by emotion and touched by everything, that there was no room to be composed. Even her daughter couldn't help it. It was only after I hugged her and spoke with her that I found out that apparently, back at their home in Indonesia, birthdays cannot afford to be celebrated. So, seeing the wide spread of food fit for a king, and being surrounded by people who love her, was something she never experienced before. Her tears strangulated her voice as she tried to thank each and everyone of us, but... we understood.

Before the night came to an end, there was one last thing planned for her. Or to be more specific, to present to her.

As a small token of love from us to her, I wanted to make her a video. And in that video, my brother and I would sing "Keep holding on" while a slide-show of our pictures with her would be shown as well. We had hours and hours of practice and recording test-runs. We also dug out albums which held our pictures with her, capturing each and every one of them for the video slide-show. But in the end, my plan did not follow through. Everything was rushed and time was slipping through our fingers so we had no other choice but to do it live, in front of her. You would think that I would be ready after all those hours of practice but I wasn't. I hesitated. And at the last minute, it was my brother and sister who talked me into doing it. They insisted and would not take a "no" for an answer.

Dad did our intro, thanking her and making sure she knows how much of a blessing she has been to us over the years. His words tugged at all of our hearts and in no time the whole room was filled with teary eyes and broken hearts. Before I even began the song, I lost it. I could not hold myself together because it was too painful. Too painful to tell her to Keep holding on when I myself was struggling at that. I tried real hard to fight back the tears from rolling down my cheeks, and eventually I managed to finish the song. When it was over, I realized why my siblings were so insistent that we do it - it was a 'now or never' thing. And besides, she needed to hear those lyrics as much as we needed to say what we wanted her to know before it was too late.

It was also a little something for her to remember us by.

_____________

As darkness was traded in for light, the dark skies slowly welcomed the warmness of the morning sun. The day started pretty early for us. Upon arriving at Nanny's residence, Dad loaded up the 4×4 and their boxes were strapped onto the roof of the vehicle. We made our way to KLIA to send her off. After checking in their boxes and doing the necessary, all that was left to do was wait until it was time to board the flight. Pictures were taken of our every move and over steaming cups of cappuccino, we probably had our last face-to-face conversation.   


Shortly afterwards, it was time for them to board the plane. Hugs were exchanged, well-wishes were said and tears were shed. Whether it was the years spent with Kak Manisah or the weeks spent with her daughter, we have become so attached, to the extent where the both of them have become members of our family. Mainly, Kak Manisah. And how do you say "goodbye" to someone you have become so attached to? Sigh. 


All I know for sure is that I'll never find a maid as caring, loving and one-of-a-kind as her - she's irreplaceable. Wherever she is and however her condition, all I pray is that for God to wrap her in His arms and comfort her. Because if there is one thing she needs right now, it is none other than the Lord Almighty.

Reliving my childhood

Dear Kristen, Clarissa and Jonathan. I am sorting out my photo album which have you little children in it. You all look so adorable and cute with big smiles on your faces. Stay close to each other and keep smiling always. I am so blessed and privileged to have you all in my life. May God bless you with the desires of your heart.

Love always, Aunt Sharon.

As soon as her text came in, I read it and instantly replied her requesting for her to bring that photo album. Then, I read it again, and again. And as I did, her words Stay close to each other were like tingling echoes in my eardrum. It made me think and reflect on my relationship with my siblings, how we were then and how we are now.

Sure it goes without saying that much has change during the course of time.

We used to build ourselves a tree-house, a make-believe one made out of pillows, bolsters and blankets. We used to pretend that we were on a mission - I blame it on the influence Kim Possible had on us - with toy guns and weapons in hand. We also pretended to have fins and played teatime like mermaids in our condominium's public swimming pool - trying to hold our breaths as much as possible and acting like it was effortless. We took long bike rides together almost every evening, roller-skated till' our feet hurt, and when our friends initiated a game of badminton, we'd conquer the whole stretch of road along the row of my Grandma's house to play it together. Not to mention the uncountable times we argued and fought like cats and dogs among ourselves. We did everything together, which I believe, is what bonded us on levels exceptional of a good family foundation.

Over time, I realized that it was through doing things together that I began to open up to them - and I don't only speak for myself. I began to tell them secrets that were hard to keep but knew they would. I began to tell them about current crushes and update them about the happenings in my day. The little things, you know. And in time, I received that same openness and casualness in return.

Now, as we are all on the border to adulthood, I realize that all the things we used to do together such as play hide-and-seek and 'good cop, bad cop' has transitioned into confiding in each other, initiating past-bedtime sibling meetings, and covering each other's asses when either of us gets into trouble. Of course, not everything changes - We still have our petty arguments occasionally, sometimes until the point where I wish I was the only child. But don't we all go through this phase as we are growing up?

I flipped through each page and allowed each photo to lead me to folders of memories stored away in my mind, unleashing a certain nostalgia within me when I could remember the moments behind each photo with clarity. Tears welled up around my eyes and I was overwhelmed with emotion by how beautifully we portrayed togetherness in each picture, with big smiles on our faces... and also by the harsh reality that time passes us by, whether we like it or not, leaving us with only fragments of memory for keeps.

I looked at the three siblings in the photographs taken all those years ago, thought of how we are now, and could not help but smile. I am not sure why but maybe it is knowing well of the fact that despite us growing up, nothing much has changed deep down in our hearts. Maybe it is the peace I have within me in knowing that they won't.

We still have each other's backs. We still cover each other's asses. We still protect each other in every way possible - I know I would. We still try to be there for each other, whether in times of need or not.

And I cherish what my siblings and I have because in a way, I consider myself lucky. In a world that has evil lurking it's way into our lives at every corner, families get broken up; siblings turn their backs on each other and a home does not quite feel much of a home anymore. But not my family, not my siblings and I, not my home.

I guess we would always be those three little children with broad smiles across our faces and eyes washed in wonder, which will also hold as a reminder to me that sometimes, some things are just meant to remain the way they are.

Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.