How To Spot A Sociopath

How easy it must be
to be able to detach so effortlessly,
to be able to fully "live and let live"
without bothering about the consequences,
without caring too much about the other person (you have said your piece, anyway)
hanging onto every single last damn thing

How easy it must be
for those paradoxical words to roll off your tongue,
"I love you, but! I don't love you enough to try for something more."
They were always hesitating, never direct, never confrontational-
which ended up making me doubt myself instead of
doubting you

How easy it must be
for you to act as if I was like another fling, (maybe I was)
to be so incapable of understanding words and the repurcussions of everything
and even though I sometimes grapple with trying to find the right words to say
you could not even muster an apology sober (that came 3 years too late)
how dare you not take responsibility

How easy it must be
to have those fucking cute girls stupidly, foolishly lined up at your disposal
for your entertainment, company and to fill up the blanks in your social media
you must be so void of emotion, so desperate to seek love in all its wrong forms
your egocentricity runs in all of the things you do
I am constantly struggling to segregate the idea of you, the real you, loving you and having you love me back, too.


Sidenote: the other day, I was reading up about the traits of a sociopath and reading this list made me realise that you are a fucking sociopath.

"Think I'm Gonna Stay In The Grey"

Tonight, one of my best friends called me- I might claim to have a lot of best friends, but I promise, I don't. They're a special bunch. We've known each other for 8 years now, and through all the girls he's gotten together with, broken up with, I was always there watching from the sidelines and providing support whenever he needed it. 

He told me recently that he's gotten attached to this girl, and she's slowly tugging harder and harder onto his heartstrings. They've been together for 3 months now and he said he hasn't been this happy in a while. In a moment of honesty, he told me, "you know what? To be completely honest with you, it feels good that finally, just for once, there's this girl that loves me a little harder than the rest of them. She loves me a little bit more than I love her, actually."

I'm nothing but happy for him, he is such a great catch and this is cliche af but any girl would be so lucky to have him as a boyfriend. But after hearing what he said, I also realised that with the girls he previously dated, he was always the one at their beck and call. He was the one that was constantly hung up over them, being the one kept hanging by a thread and always just trying to mould himself to be their "perfect" idealistic boyfriend. It gets tiring. 

I've heard him cry over the phone about this one girl because he just. couldn't. keep. it. up. with her, and my heart broke immediately. No one deserves that kind of love where their partner places some unrealistic expectation on you and tries to force you into becoming someone they deem as "worthy to date" - be it forcing you to read more bible verses, or turning you into the shits, telling you something stupid, like "I'm not good enough for you" but still keeps you in their vicinity. 

Anyway, after catching up with him for an hour on the phone, my heart feels nothing for joy for him and it always amazes me how people can feel for people that they truly love and care for in such a way. 

:-)

M.Yeow

Sundays 

Eighteen

(I can't even remember when you first came in)

I walk into the room of familiar faces that I've grown up with, they were always present in my life - strictly once a week. But they were never close, never knew much about me and I never knew much about them. 

You came in only when I left for Melbourne. I've always noticed you sitting in the room, thinking to myself that you were cute - the studious, quiet type, of course. I never bothered to speak to you, or even ask for your name. I was always just catching your name when someone calls you, or when the boys in the room make fun about how handsome and how much of an ideal guy you were. I swear they're always a little bit jealous. 

I was always just looking at the clock on the wall, wondering what I'll be having for lunch afterwards. I'm always leaving, anyway. 

16 Jan 2016

Twenty One 

It was Mark and Steph's wedding and I contemplated if I should even turn up because I was never close to anyone ever since I left for Melbourne years ago. But I went anyway, we all grew up together after all. 

It was the buffet lunch after the ceremony, I was hungover, needed my food and couldn't really be bothered to keep up with small talk. I was halfway through my second round and suddenly you sat next to me. I was surprised you even knew my name. 

We started talking and really talking. The kind of conversations you have with someone that you genuinely find interesting and you get really caught up in it and you lose track of time and you realise you both are on your second plates of desserts that your friends so kindly got for you. 

It's funny you know, having a few things in common with someone that has always been there in your life but always taking up a passive role. We found out we only live a street away from each other - I've been living in the neighbourhood for 16 years and you for 13 years. "Why have we never seen each other?"" I don't know, life works in funny ways."

That day was so nice getting to know you and talking about our lives, family, school and goals all on bus 33 back home and back to CHIJMES in the evening for the wedding dinner. 

2 nights before you left for South Africa

We were supposed to hang out one more time before you left and luckily I decided to ball up and tell you that you were honestly so cool that it would be such a shame if I didn't get to hang out with you one more time before you left. "Don't leh, haha I'll walk to the playground this evening and we can go grab some drinks nearby our place." "Teh Bing at Fei Fei?"

We ended up drinking cider and beers at this place near katong. It was supposed to be an hour long catch up because I had work the next day and you had to pack for your 3 month mission trip on the ship. But we talked about our views on life, your rabak clubbing days, my rabak stories, and your dating stories when you were 14 and mostly driven by your hormones, so it became a 3 hour hang out session. It was such a fun night. 

Last Night

You suddenly popped up in my mind and I decided to drop you a text despite you telling me that you may me MIA for the whole 3 months because of the poor reception on the ship. I dropped you a text nonetheless, and you replied today. 

I wished you a Happy Easter and you told me, "It's good Friday, Rachel." 

You also sent me all the updates that you sent to our other friend, and to be honest, your stories have inspired me in so many ways and there's just really...something about you that attracts me to you. I can't even put a finger on it. 

Interesting people are hard to come by in your life and you're one of them I've been so lucky to meet. 

Thank you for talking to me that Saturday. 

Going Down Without A Fight (I Can't Keep Up)

It was probably a mistake
having two cups of coffee and a lao hong cigarette,
giving rise to my trembling hands
and have old friends asking me about my plans after graduating,
when I can barely make the decision between choosing a Mornington road trip this easter or
playing netball and a birthday celebration.

What they say is always right you know,
the choices you make define who you are as a person
and I'm always caught up
always struggling
to make the best decisions that I think would be good for me
to be at peace with my decisions without regretting the other

I've got too much time
too little courage and confidence in myself
to be assured of the fact that
I am going to be okay,
everything is okay and that
this lingering feeling of melancholy is just self-inflicted

It was probably a mistake
now staring at my shaking hands and having the bad after taste of the lao hong ciagrette in my mouth-
I can't swallow it down
not this aching feeling in the pit of my stomach,
this tightening contraction in my heart,
and not the thought of everything else that seems to be engulfing me all at once

"Even if you don't do anything and just stay, that is good enough for me"

In the shower last week
I had the revelation that moving on from someone and moving onto someone are two independent things
because that's the only time I give myself
to rationalise all the shit feelings I have about you
from your fucking social media
(they tell me to stop looking)
(but it is the only way I know how you're doing anymore)

At that park near your place,
the 500 days of summer-esque park benches where we counted the stars-
instead of always romanticising the tragedy that I may never get to see the stars with you again,
I realised that through this experience,
you taught me that if I just waited a little while longer, I would be able to see the beauty in things
you also taught me how I should always be
looking up and never down

We are a constant mismatch
but yet we always fall into each other's wavelengths so effortlessly
I cannot undo what we did and abhor everything about us
but one thing that I am slowly but surely learning is that
we are magnets of the same poles,
repelling away from each other despite every step we try to forcefully or unintentionally take towards each other

I've been running towards you all this damn time but all we ever do is
repel, repel, repel.

Heartbreak Rides For Free //  Zhang Jia Wu

Numbers and Time

One time you showed me sincerity in the purest form I 

wanted to hold you so close to me but it was a moment too 

wonderful to ruin so I just looked and took it all in. 

Two days after we decided to call things quits for the second time, it got 

too much to handle because for a while every fibre of my body felt like we could finally be 

together. I guess I was wrong again. 

Three years ago, I loved you with everything I had and showed it in every way I possibly could. 

Four months. It took you four months
for you to fall in love or believe that you're falling in love again. So this is me 

forgetting you. 

When They Say Misery Loves Company

Tonight Jodie told me, "it's fucking weird how you always seem to get yourself sad. Like you're constantly setting yourself up in shit situations, scratching and picking at multiple scabs, trapping yourself up in deep holes and wanting to stay there. And then suddenly there's this one good day where you're not depressed and then you get sad again the next moment because you inflicted it upon yourself. It's fucking weird. It's as though you like being miserable."

I could only laugh while I tried thinking of a comeback.

I couldn't.

The Glory Of Self-Inflicted Wounds

I think the best part of self-inflicted wounds is that you know how hard you can drag that blade against your skin, against your the edges of your ribcage - that calcium armour that weakly guards your heart, and how deep you want to stab yourself right in the heart.

You are in absolute control. The trigger is your mind and your own hands are the ones that hold the power to hurt. If you do this, there is no one in this world that can ever hurt you like you do. 

You do not give that authority to anyone but yourself.

I've forgotten but now I remember.

Everything about you makes me sick and I wonder why I even believed a word you said. I am so, so fucking unhappy it is such a suffocating feeling and I get anxious because I stress out that I can't seem to ever see the good in things.

I Hope You Sleep Well At Night (I Try)

I'm blaming this on the new bed but it's been a hard couple of nights falling asleep. It feels as though the uni blues are starting to kick me in my butt again. I'm trying so hard to stop everything from engulfing me whole like the last few semesters, like this new bed and duvets that trap me in my own thoughts and nightmares. 

Every night my thoughts wander back to you and it starts to romanticise this tragedy, this toxic breakdown of whatever it was, it starts to obsess and over analyse on things that I shouldn't be thinking about- the way you touched me, falling asleep next to you, missing our jokes and conversations. I fall asleep to the thoughts of you. What if I never love again like how I loved you? It's a fucking melodramatic line, I know, and I blame Adele's All I Ask that has been on repeat the last 2 weeks. Ha. 

I wake up and realise that I have things to do that doesn't require you in my life one bit and I know, that it is supposed to be this way- it can only be this way. I can no longer hold you the way I want to and have you the way I desire to. Call it greed, wallowing, obsessive romanticising this idea of you, but - I just want you. 

When I found out an acquaintance squishes his bread as well, instead of being ecstatic as fuck that finally, someone else understands the love for squished up bread, I was defensive, almost. Like this was our thing, you know? Everyone was against it but at least, at least there was always you there to back me up. Now there's someone else that squishes his bread too and I didn't want to high five and be mocked about squished bread with him. It was always our fight, our thing. 

I stiffen up at the thought that I could have a million things in common with new people that will walk in and out of my life in the coming years, that I have in common with you. There might be a few other people I will meet that will like the same music that we both like, some that may crack the same jokes that you and I both laugh hysterically at, some that might also listen to me rant about random news that happened and discuss about a fucking meteorite in the space exploding while North Korea was testing some bombs again all during the same day I was killing time in the office. That kind of shit. 

Oh, and perhaps, in the near future, someone that can show me that real love isn't the kind that tantalises and keeps you hanging by a fucking thread. You are not special and you are not my everything- just like how I am nothing to you. Like how you effortlessly infatuate yourself with girls that satisfy your superficial ideals. 

My best friend once told me that someone that has no substance will speak words that are of no substance. Something like if you're stupid, how do you expect yourself to say something smart?Someone that says but doesn't do, their words are rendered complete and utter bullshit. 

My heart can no longer carry the weight of your words and my ears should no longer bend to the sound of your voice. 

I've given up trying to tell myself that I should stop writing about you. At least it gets the thoughts of you out of my system and maybe I can sleep a little better tonight. 

I hope you occasionally look up into the dark sky at night and think of me softly from time to time. 

I hope you take out your phone and open up that stupid stargazing app you bought, and try to find the virgo star constellation we tried so hard to find but failed, and maybe just maybe you might actually find the constellation one lucky night. I've stopped looking up. 

Chart Topper

Tonight, you told me you were so happy for me until you teared while reading my message. Also, "You have no idea. Sometimes you complain so much I enjoy it."

(I cannot let you go)

The day I find someone that I can let into my heart again, I hope that they tell me that my complaints are something that they wouldn't mind hearing over and over again, just like how you told me that tonight. Even my mother tells me to tone it down.

I know the way you look at me when I am halfway through my rants. I catch it from time to time.

(I cannot let you go)

I told you that I hoped that you were holding up fine over at your side and that I missed talking to you as much as you miss hearing me complain about useless things.

You stopped replying. It's the right thing to do, I guess. I should have just stopped replying when you told me, "I'll see you in 6 months", with some ugly ass emoji. But I didn't. Because, just becasue

I cannot let you fucking go.

An Attempt At Structuring

BODY.

1. 

When they called me regarding the PO, my excitement only lasted for a short while and to be honest, to be very honest, if I were to see myself heading back there for work, I'd dread it almost every day. But I'm glad they called. Because this is exactly what I wanted the day I signed myself up for this internship. My efforts weren't put to waste, so this is what I wanted. I should be content. I am, I am, I am. I am enough. 

Tonight I am so overwhelmed by the sudden outpour of concern and love from random people in my life. An acquaintance- a uni senior, caught up with me over text and was nothing but supportive, in terms of encouraging me in my studies to my new apartment and settling down, to job offers in the future. I also shared the good news to whoever I thought helped me pull through the internship- very important people, and I am just so grateful and to be honest, pleasantly surprised by all their supportive messages and calls. External validation isn't something that I crave for, but all these affirmations from these various friends have been nothing but wonderful. I never knew that sharing good news with friends can trigger such reactions from them. 

2. 

I've finally settled into my new apartment and everything is starting to fall into place and hopefully by the end of the weekend, I will be able to fully settle in. I've filled up the fridge with some of my favourite things that I've missed so dearly and there is just something fulfilling about running errands and making a space feel a little like home. 

3. 

Tonight when Jodie and I were shopping, we went to 3 different supermarkets to try to find our favourite Peach and Mango Lipton Tea, but the first 2 supermarkets we went to didn't carry them anymore. 

And similar to the time when my favourite muesli went out of production, how I constantly gave up looking down the cereal aisle by the second time I couldn't find it, I did the same with the tea by the second supermarket we went to. 

But friends like Jodie, they are the ones that drag my hand down the cereal aisle and constantly tell me, "you can find it if you look hard enough. Let's just try walking down the aisle one more time." Keep looking, keep trying.  

By the third supermarket we went to, obviously defeated, I didn't expect much when we walked down the tea aisle. Just like how I expected it to be, the tea wasn't there. "Out of production la," I said. "It's sad how you take these things for granted. You think that they would be in your life for a little longer, but then suddenly one day you come back for it but it's gone. For good." I scoffed a bit, and laughed at how things could become so deep so quick over our fricking favourite tea going out of stock. 

Then suddenly Jodie excitedly shouted for me, "Look! The new tea is on sale!" You see, Jodie and I LOVE aesthetically pleasing packaging on food, and when visiting the tea aisle in 2 different supermarkets, we noticed this new range of teas that Twinnings released, and wanted to try them. But we didn't let go of the hope of finding the peach and mango tea and the new twinnings tea were slightly out of our budget, so we joked and said, "buy when it goes on sale." 

We quickly grabbed the new twinnings tea and got all excited to try the new tea. I turned my head to the direction where all the Lipton tea boxes were arranged at and I told Jodie, "I guess this is life telling us when one door closes, another will open up. See? Like better tasting tea and more aesthetically pleasing packaging will come to us. ON SALE SOMEMORE!!!!" 

She laughed and told me, "So sometimes you gotta let go of things that might never come back, despite it being your favourite. And for all you know, there'll be better things waiting for you just around the corner, like this tea! Just search hard enough and be patient." 

#mcnuggetsofwisdom attained from going to the supermarket thrice in a day searching for tea.

Also, I guess it's like what they always say?? Third time's a charm. Ha.

4. 

Hearing from someone that you have been missing is always pleasant. It's been a while since there has been nothing but well wishes and honest words. It is everything I miss and it's nice to know that they still care about how you've been doing and cannot be happier when you've achieved something so great with their help. 

CONCLUSION. I

Tonight just further emphasised how it has always been you. 

CONCLUSION. II

It has been a rough start to my day, with Mum and Josh leaving, crying on my bed watching the small uber car icon on google maps move slowly away from me on my phone. Rachel, you always love to set yourself up in situations to make yourself feel even worse , Jodie always tells me. However, the evening had a wonderful turn to it and I found myself tearing up because of all the love I've been receiving from everyone and how everything seems to be finding its place here and there. It's not quite right yet with things, but baby steps right? 

If people have that much faith in me, I guess I should start believing in myself a little bit more. 

Here goes nothing -deep breaths- 

Separation Anxiety

Tonight is the last night that mum and Josh are here with me in Melbourne, and it's getting quite sad now that I am sitting in my organised new room, with the two of them sleeping so soundly- Josh on the pull out bed and mum on the bed we have been sleeping together the last 3 nights. It's a scene I won't want to forget.

I probably wrote too much about how they've helped my tremendously with the move the last couple of days, but I don't think I've written about how my mother got progressively tired as the days went by because she was constantly worried about my safety, the toilet rolls running out, my laundry, my medication, the luggage, the packing and the cleaning. She was always having these things on her mind, and she never once got angry when she quietly helped to clean my room when I was showering, how she did all my laundry and hung them out to dry in the night and took them in and kept them in the morning. It's all these things that I take for granted and they always go unnoticed until I start doing these things myself, then I realise that all this while, she has been the one that has been doing it for me on the sidelines. Never proclaiming, "it was ME that did this" or "look at how much I'VE done for YOU" 

It's hard for me to really put a mother's love into something that is eloquent and poetic because my mother was never the gentle, soothing, long hair and dresses type of woman. She's someone that is hard for me to fit into a category and write about her. I can only write about her when a moment like this comes up out of nowhere: Where I am sitting at my desk, in my new room, and I hold her hand and thank her for everything that she has done for the last few days and apologized again for the 1000th time for the shit I caused, she shakes my hand and says "no laaaa it's okay, now go and sleep." 

My mother's hands are rough with callouses from the carrying and packing of books as a job, and my mother rarely ever wears a skirt unless it's a special event. Even then, she's always checking with us if she looked good in that skirt and always wondering if she looked a little too fat. My mother is always the woman with the bright red lipstick, and laughs the hardest and loudest with her little wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, denoting that she spent her youth smiling a lot and being as free-spirited as she could be. My mother always cries watching sad shows, and she always hugs a pillow and when we laugh at her, mummy you're seriously not crying at this scene COME ON, she just wipes her tears away and claims that something got into her eyes. 

My mother has a loud voice 

but has the softest heart. 

I've been brought up to have a lot of things cared for me, planned out for me, and a lot of times (sadly) it nurtured a sort of expectation that things have to be done for me. It's a very self-centered way of thinking and it's something that I've been working on changing for a while now. One day, I hope to love so fiercely and protect my loved ones with such intensity like my mother. It must be something, to go to bed every night reminding your daughter about her grocery list she needs to get and fussing over bank stuff right before falling asleep, just in case she forgets. It must be something so big that it cannot be contained. 

That type of love, I cannot give. Yet. 

Tonight I will quietly crawl into my bed and hug my mother to sleep one last time,
until we meet again in 6 months. 

4:44 A.M Misses For You

The afternoon we decided to end things, sitting too close to each other on a bench in ion- thighs and knees touching. I asked you about you moving onto other girls and you told me, "just know that for now, it's nothing serious."

Were you too afraid to be serious with me? Is that one of the many reasons why we could not work? God, I wish it were easier. And when I was cautiously placing my heart into your hands you just yanked it out, locked it up and placed it on your shelf of prized possessions. I wonder how many jars of hearts you have collected.

I recognised that look you gave her today when I saw it. Foolishly, I always thought that whenever I caught your eyes staring at me like that, it was a look specially crafted, for you to look at me in entirety.

But I should stop obsessing and thinking that I was someone special, something that rarely appeared in your life, even though your words in December does not reciprocate this. She told me you used to say the same things to her, when I told her about what you said to me. 4 years of knowing you and to think that your old antics still have a way of working with silly girls like me.

But you are going to be okay. You always appear to be, anyway. Hell, you continously have girls wrapped around your fingers, probably more well-dressed and perhaps fucked up to the degree that you like it to be. I was not that girl. I don't dress like the younger girls, neither am I fucked up in the way you would desire me. But I am someone you still broke twice. Twice, but not in the same way, I would like to think.

I cannot keep writing about you, thinking about you and craving you in my life. There are too many girls and too many delirious thoughts I would have to share you with- if I ever have you the way I want to. 

But how the hell am I supposed to move onto better things, when you are the only thing I have known, the only person I have ever loved and the only person that gets me like how no one else does and when we both share a special bond over squishy bread?

An Affinity with Eights: 829 / 809A / Unit 8

So today I moved out of one of the very few places that I've managed to call home here in Melbourne. 

4 hours. 

That's all it took to pack up and get out. I was angry at first, dashing for everything that I could claim as mine, reluctant to leave it behind despite having more than one rice cooker back at our new place. I simply could not let them have it. I didn't want to lose. For every pot, every utensil that I decided to keep and rip out from the cabinets they have lived in for the last year, it felt like I was collecting small bits of my dignity and pride, as if this were to tell them, look at how empty you are now that I am gone. You needed me. 

It's been an exhausting day for everyone, especially mum, Josh and myself. Before heading to bed tonight, I gently scooted over to Josh's side and thanked him for helping me pack and move. He nudged my stomach lightly and grunted. That was his way of saying you're welcome. 

When mum and I were laying in the dark, I thanked her for powering through the afternoon on barely any rest from our flight back to Melbourne, and she nagged on about things to get from the supermarket tomorrow and how I should be acting around my new housemate, girl ah, next time be a bit cleaner, he's a nice boy, you must learn how to accommodate and understand...That was her way of saying you're welcome.

Truth be told, I've been working and packing the whole day without even thinking. Finally at 3:08 am, I am finally having some time to collect all my emotions and letting reality settle in that these white walls I am staring at are no longer the ones at uropa. My view isn't the skyline of the city and the balcony can no longer see beautiful sunrises and sunsets. 

I miss every bit of that place. Not only because of its physicalities, but also because of the absurd amount of memories created in there. I can't even begin listing them. I am afraid I might start crying and my heart will feel heavier than it already is. I know it's terrible placing sentimental value in something so vast, so fleeting and so concrete. 809A will never budge, but I will move one day, thus depositing so many memories in there will eventually come back and haunt me if I were to ever step in that unit again. 

This new place is ... familiar, but it doesn't feel like home. It's still unsettling. I still feel uneasy and unable to fall asleep on this weird bed that is now mine, and this view that isn't the city skyline. Perhaps this is what first nights feel like. I've forgotten. 

The only reason why I'm up writing this is because my heart is heavy and unsettled and there's that weird sick feeling in my stomach. Maybe it was having dinner at 12:30 am that's causing all this discomfort. It's that feeling as though this space isn't mine to occupy and I'm just borrowing a few square metres of this area to hold in all my shit I've accumulated the past 4 years here. To also hold all the contents of myself in this space, denoted by square metres, and the rental of this space to be paid on the 25th of every month. 

Perhaps it's the overwhelming feeling when recalling today's moving situation: 4 of my girlfriends and my new housemate frantically moving boxes and just things up and down from my apartment to the car and from the car to my new apartment. Some of them lugging empty luggages over to my apartment just to help fit more of my shit and all walking over to my new apartment with all of my shit because the car was too full of shit that it couldn't fit any of us anymore. Seeing Jodie rush over to meet me after school, helping to basically unpack and organise my whole room, was a sight which reminded myself that these friends are true gems in my life. I don't deserve any of this kindness, I am so full of shit most of the time it was hard to digest everyone's selflessness and willingness to help me out today. 

Perhaps it was also the moment when I saw my mother falling asleep on the couch, lightly snoring. It is then I realised that she had barely enough sleep on the plane ride to Melbourne earlier on, but was quick to help pack up my whole house in the afternoon with no breakfast, no lunch and no coffee. A mother's love is deeply moving and so, so selfless. It should never be underestimated. I recall that night that I fell into her arms and sobbed my eyes out, heaving into her wet shirt, because I was so bummed out about this moving situation, losing a close friend and was overwhelmed by guilt that she had to come over, but she hugged me and stroked my head, as if I was 9 again, and told me that it was going to be okay. She will help me. 

So tonight, I am going to head to bed telling myself that it is going to be okay. Mum and josh and all these wonderful friends are here to help me. This place will soon feel a little more like home soon. 

I would like to say I'm homeisck but I'm not sure where is home anymore.