Being Strange and indifferent

I was throwing tantrums.

Major ones.

With Phil.

Minutes after my meeting with Ex(BF).

For the first time ever, I was shouting at Phil and Phil, after keeping quiet for sometime, decided to shout back at me.

We were shocked at ourselves, of what we are capable of doing, shouting to each other. I picked up my bag and drove home.

A few minutes later, when I was still in my car, pretty much still repulsed over the whole thing, Phil texted me;

“Honey, I am sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It wasn’t until 11 pm did I replied his text;

“Sunday. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

My Ex(BF) had that effect on me. Whenever I meet him, I feel inadequate. The only reason why the relationship didn’t work in the first place was because I was not the one. He wanted someone who could baby him and give in to all his whimsical needs.

I was not that person. I am not that person to start doing housework in his apartment just because he MIGHT be that one I will share every thoughts and opinions with for the rest of my life.

I WILL be that person, when he IS that one I will share every thoughts and opinions and possibly our lives together with.

I wanted to be sure, I have never been sure about anything my whole life. It wasn’t until I am thrown into a situation would I find out that I could actually do it.

Life has been rough on me the past few months. More commitments, frustration, disappointment and the realization that I was only hanging on to someone because of my thirst for affection that I have not been getting for the longest time broke me sometimes.

“You are really concerned about that? About not having someone?”

Someone asked me that before. Someone whom I thought was just pretending to care about me. Recently, I feel that he wasn’t, and he won’t. He will not care, he never does.

My moodswings have been murderous to me that past few weeks. No amount of Xanax could help me there. I text people I have never texted before and I look at everything negatively. My sarcasm is not helping either. I get painfully angry, and full of angst.

Phil was my punching bag. That Sunday, I told him we should not see each other again. I don’t want to waste his time, and I don’t want to waste mine. I don’t want a rebound fling. Phil is too good for me.

He doesn’t deserve a drama slut.

Nobody does.

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People talk behind others’ backs.

I tried not to, but sometimes, it’s hard to do that when everyone in your circle just, do.

Recently, I got to know that some of our relatives, my aunties namely, have been talking about our family.

I was indifferent to it. I acknowledge it as human nature. People talk, gobs could not be cemented shut. We could only wish we could literally make that happen.

People are only interested in bad things, never the good ones.

They talked about me still single, boyfriend – less and my tendency to hook up with foreigners, my so called ‘lavish’ lifestyle that was summed up from the number of shoes that I have (you could say that I am the Imelda Marcos in the family), my arrogance and my family’s awkwardness in helping out in the kitchen during ‘Kenduris’.

We admitted to us being untrained in the kitchen, as far as these things are concerned. We made up for it by contributing cold hard cash.

We are no hypocrites, if there is one thing that is outstanding about my family, it’s that. We stay true to who we are, and never tried to pretend as if we are something else. Unlike some of those two – faced relatives we have hovering on our back.

‘We jaga tepi kain sendiri, tak ada masa nak jaga tepi kain orang.’ I told my Mom.

And so what if I am still single, so what if nobody wants me because I am too frikkin’ opinionated, SO WHAT? I make more money than anyone of those bitching housewives get from their husbands.

I look better than them lot too.

So, open those gobs wide, be truly Malaysian and kaypohchee your way to hell, honestly, I really don’t care, just as long as I don’t stoop down to your level, that’s fine by me.