I broke my eight-month streak of not crying on Saturday night.
And I laughed it off as it was happening, because all I could think was “Of course. Of course it would be over this.”
I’m scrolling through my old blogposts to see if I had perversely written out that I had predicted my bond with C wouldn’t last. We are the same but too different.
As much as I welcome dialogue (and I feel I’ve been making good with that for the past year and a bit), it’s a two-way street that involves listening and talking from both parties. There was no dialogue these past two nights; only attacking and defending.
Let me explain.
On Friday night, I got drunk with my co-workers and decided to shoot C a text since I knew she was getting off work and leaving around the same time. We streetcar’d home together and we caught up on in person – I was drunk and verbal diahhrea’ing. I didn’t mind – I felt I could trust her to keep all this in confidence. I told her and showed her a picture of this girl from Tinder who I was texting (details to follow), talked about my coworkers, and talked about random things. Oddly, as I showed her our texts, she grabbed the phone from out of my hand and started going through my text messages with other people… It was intrusive but I didn’t know how to address it – I was drunk.
Even after getting off the streetcar, we took the long way back through her condo building so we could both have more time to catch up. We hadn’t in a while especially since I had distanced myself from her recently.
Next thing I know (and I’m still pretty tipsy at this point), she’s yelling at me in an empty food court at 3am. “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t”. And she storms off.
I’m perplexed. My forehead sore from trying to recollect and make sense of everything that happened between getting on the streetcar and her abandoning me. It seemed to have gone downhill when the topic of the Korean girl came up — why her name came up, once-a-fucking-gain, I have no idea. Several times I was genuinely unsure if I was so drunk that I didn’t realize she was drunk – it would’ve helped things make so much more sense. It seemed to happen out of nowhere, her buried discontentment with me. It seemed like a terrible dream.
I messaged her the next day, open to talking out whatever had happened. I was still exponentially confused. She was open to talking but had no time until later that evening, at the bar where our friends would be meeting before going out to the club.
So we talked… and I made sure I wasn’t drunk this time.
And it went the exact opposite of how I had hoped. It blew up.
In hindsight, I wish I’d finished typing this up the day I started it (Sunday), but I dropped off after a few paragraphs and now it’s Wednesday…. and I’ve already talked far too much, to the point where it’s become exhausting to have to reiterate, revisit, and retell the stories – and relive what I was feeling when I was first telling them. But for the sake of this journal, I will try.
She was essentially berating me for how I had not invited the Korean girl and another person to New Years. My decision, as I stand by it, was built off “I cannot host another massive party as I have roommates/a live-in landlord. Therefore I must keep it small. Therefore I can only invite my closest friends”. When it was spread via social media that I had a party, it was interpreted by them as me siding with a friend in a feud she had with that person. This interpretation was wrong, but I can absolutely see how she would view it that way because if I were in her shoes, I would see it that way too. So I took the initiative to apologize for it seeming that way.
HER interpretation was that I had buried a bitter hatred for the Korean girl not reciprocating my feelings, thus it played a part in my decision not to invite them. Coupled with my rolling my eyes when she brought her name up, I can see how it may seem like contempt… which I could not explain in the moment – it was pure instinct. When she called me out on it and extrapolated that as an indication of toxic feelings, I gave a poor explanation, but in hindsight (and a clearer, less emotionally affected mind), I was able to articulate (to myself, and too late), that it was at the fact that we are, once again, talking about her. And I never bring her up. She’s the one who ever brings it up.
I just don’t have the energy to type it up.
TL;DR I trusted her and I felt like she betrayed my trust (by going through my text messages, by telling her partner everything) and while I thought she was listening and giving me a shoulder to lean on, she was silently judging me. And she let it show on Saturday in its truest form and I cried because I had opened up and been vulnerable (I argued that night that these two can be separated, but she argued that they go hand in hand — after discussing it with someone else who believed as she did, I think it’s something that I want to explore in depth – but another day. Because, as the point of this blog, I want to rationalize my gut feelings. Perhaps I am wrong, but until I articulate my gut feeling, I am going to table this. But I DI-FUCKING-GRESS)……… and I was hurt. And it hurt deep because the fact is she sees the good in everyone and has good intentions. As I’ve preached on this blog over and over and over again, the only thing that matters about a person when/if judging them, is their intentions – not their actions.
At one point in the midst of our heated argument on Saturday, she asked, rhetorically, what I think the solution to gay drama is. Unprepared, but without hesitation, I said “communication”. I still believe that. I genuinely feel if she had communicated how she felt all this time, we could’ve avoided all this. I did my best.
The worst part is, I trusted her enough to let her know about this blog. But I hope she’s not reading this because many of these are unfinished thoughts that I’ve rushed to write down – I’m already a few days behind on the posting and if I don’t write something down now, I never will. Not to mention things have unfolded that I think would be healthy to write about. Like having a minor (?) panic attack last night.
But I’m all “wrote out”. It will have to wait til next time.
I’d also like to write about the girl I’ve been texting. We’re moving a little too fast and it’s freaking me out.
And parts of her remind me of Twitter girl. Which scares me because I ended up falling for the idea of her, and not her.
2017…. please be kind. I don’t know how much more I can take.
I had a massive crush on a girl in third year. It was the hardest (and purest) crush to get over because I didn’t fall for her immediately – I slowly (and deeply) fell for her personality. (I’d written about her before)
She’s a good person with great intentions, and she’s highly empathetic, perceptive, and conscious of other people’s emotions. Most strikingly, she’s the best conversationalist – she’s so engaging and outspoken. And although this package would seem to be one wrapped in self-confidence, she’s so humble, modest, and self-conscious. As strange as this may sound, she opened my eyes to self-deprecating jokes.
I tried (we all did) keeping in touch with her but she drifted after graduation, spending life with her boyfriend (whom she’d introduced to us once). But we met up again for drinks tonight, her, a friend, and I, after over a year of no communication (nothing deliberate – we just drifted). At one point, she congratulated me on coming out. She also took the initiative to ask me questions about my life, deliberately switching gears from the conversation – which I found so interesting (and nice).
She hasn’t changed much. Only me – I’m just looking at her with new eyes. And she’s as beautiful (if not more) a person as before.
You know how sometimes you meet a person and you’re just so happy they exist? And that they make the world a better place by just existing?
I’m glad I fell for her. Bisexual or not, she was a crush that, in hindsight, I’m proud of.
p.s. she still does that thing with her hair – she twirls it round and round her fingers as you’re talking. The only thing that’s changed is her curls aren’t as prominent and her hair’s straighter. Must be the boyfriend.
It’s like sometimes the universe knows.
I’ve been feeling jaded and overwhelmed because of everything unfolding recently and these feelings are so strong they’ve seeped even into my dreams (as I’d mentioned previously). I need a
n out break from the gaysian group.
Then out of the blue, I noticed it was twitter girl’s birthday on Facebook and without thinking, I decided to wish her a happy birthday. We got to talking and she asked me how things were on my end. Giving the timing and prevalence of what’s been happening, I let her in on the gay drama that was unraveling. We hadn’t spoken in months, but she hadn’t changed – listening with patience and empathy. Next thing you know, she’d invited me to a birthday gathering. I had made prior plans so I messaged her to give her a heads up.
Next thing you know, we’re making tentative plans for a monthly queer dance party. I’m assuming this is with her gay friends.
I have no residual feelings for her (I stress they were invalid in the first place and for the idea of her rather than her, herself), but I certainly respect her for her social activism and strong moral compass – just because we had no chemistry doesn’t change that fact. It’d be nice to reconnect and catch up.
It’d be nice to get out of this circle for a while.
I’m still always shocked by how oblivious I’ve been my entire life, taking my family for granted. Upon listening to my other (Asian) friends lament the tension between them and their parents resulting from news of their queerness, I’ve begun to realize how unbelievably fortunate I am.
A friend – J – and I went for coffee today to air out some thoughts and completely unplanned, she ended up meeting my mom, who’d dropped by to drop off some food. Despite us just being friends and it not being a “meet the parents” kinda deal, she was nervous – I suspect it stems back to her bad experience with (Asian) parents and queerness.
My mom was also slightly awkward (but I was unsure if it was her being normal — now that I’m thinking back to how she meets my other friends, I suspect it was her normal. I guess she’s just a little socially awkward). I checked in with her shortly after, letting her know, “that was Jenny. She’s gay. We’re just friends.” Her response:
I almost doubled over from the mix of guilt and emotions. On the one hand, I’m asking “what did I do to deserve this.” On the other, I feel like this is how parents should be.
It’s just that the latter is obviously not always the case.
I had a troubling dream last night:
I was either inebriated or tired and accidentally sent a text to my ex-person – something along the lines of “I’m sorry for how it ended”. When I realized what I had done, I immediately panicked and opened my phone to delete it, only to find she had texted back, essentially picking up our conversation from where we had left it… about a year ago now.
[Wow. It’s been about a year.]
It’s problematic that I apologized in my dream when I’m adamant I was not at fault – me choosing to end our friendship was an admittance that this person was not good for me and I finally had the gumption to walk away after over a year of periodic abandonment. Regardless, I’m inclined to think dreams are less about what happened, as much as they are about underlying feelings.
And these feelings are about the shit that’s been happening in my social life currently. I’ve feared for a few weeks now that meeting so many gay friends so quickly was getting me too entangled in all these social circles – I suspected a recipe for disaster as the gay(sian) circle is so small.
Lo and behold, in the past month, lines have been crossed, dialogue has not been open, and toxic feelings have been kept hushed. Several moving parts in my queer circle have combusted – and I’m affected not directly, but by association. It’s been a little overwhelming, developing such close connections and having things explode in your face.
I think that’s what subconsciously instigated the dream – I suspect my terror and jadedness from all this is deeply overwhelming and my subsconscious is telling me “flight” — go back to a less complicated time, go back to a safer time.
At the time she felt safe — she didn’t/wasn’t really; sober she never was a safe space; in hindsight she was an absolutely terrible influence on me; she would leave me behind in a second — and it certainly feels chaotic in my queer social circle right now.
It’s not that I’ve been thinking about her (at all) but she’s certainly crossed my mind more than I’d like recently. I know it’s a bad idea but when it comes to reaching out, there have been a few “what if…” thoughts, which I stamp out before it sets the whole forest ablaze.
Happy one year …
It’s no surprise that the Gaysians I get along best with are “white washed”. They have solid knowledge of pop culture and I can throw in quick jokes making reference to whatever’s going on and they’ll catch them.
What did surprise me was when I opened up to them about my long-held preference for white girls, they shared the same memories. One went so far as to say “I first rejected the (Asian) girl I’m with now because I held on tightly to the idea of only being with white girls”. They’ve been together for years and they seem very happy.
It surprised me because I thought, given that most of my friends are white and the planners are almost all white (and the fact tat my sense of humour and taste in everything is white washed), it makes so much sense that I’d be into white chicks.
When talking it out with them, they told me it was because of media – all these tumblr posts, and the scraps of queer plotlines we get thrown (RARE AND DISMAL growing up pre-2011) would always feature white women. Too many minority identity markers and you’d lose the audience (or so thought network executives). So queer women, regardless of ethnicity, would gravitate towards this and idealize a white partner.
So the last two Asian girls that I caught ~dA fEeLiNgZ~ for caught me by surprise. The first one was a complete 180 (although in hindsight and analysis, her conscious, thought-out flirting made it make sense), but the second one that followed made sense*.
*Long story short/ quick update: Caught feelings, we talked it out, we’re just friends, I learned more about her, and it helped to rationalize my feelings away. It’s better this way and I’m glad she brought it up. My only regret (if any) about the situation is I wish I’d asked her out and got rejected at face value – at least I can say that I tried, hah. But regardless, it’s better this way. No harm, no foul. Moving on.
I guess the only difference and the lesson learned from this is that I’m more open to dating people now. Being friends with the Gaysians, I can talk about things white people wouldn’t catch on to – e.g. things having to do with childhood, certain Asian foods, traditions, etc. Of course, on the flip side, there are certain cultural values that Asians hang on to that I have rejected, which I can “bond” with white people over. On the other hand, the bonding is mostly passive and complete obliviousness on their side and conscious rejection on mine.
TL;DR: APPARENTLY I’M OPEN TO DATING ASIANS NOW?
Every 365 days, we force a time to reflect on our lives and examine ways we can improve ourselves. Though people make fun of this tradition for never being held for all of the following 365 days, I want to put my goals for myself here to (try to) hold myself accountable.
1. Stop overthinking.
If 2016 has taught me anything, it’s that I overthink and that’s a bad thing. This is especially true for relationships and romantic interests. It also manifests itself in the duration of my writing – it takes me embarrassingly long to craft a good blog post on here as well as a report at work. This was also true for writing emails – I would backtrack, re-read, and re-edit until I was satisficed – although that, with practice, is less of a problem now.
I need to recognize when I am overthinking, and replace it with other thoughts or distract myself with activity. Something else that would help is asking yourself “will this matter in a year? Five years?”. Unless the answer is yes, there’s no point thinking it through.
2. Stop checking your phone/social media so often.
I’m addicted. It used to be just Twitter, but now it’s mostly messages. It’s an impulse that’s destructive to my productivity as well as my mental health. It’s certainly related to FOMO and not wanting to keep people waiting, but really… if it’s important, they’ll get to me by calling or by texting directly to my phone.
I need to put my phone on silent and out of sight (/out of mind). Every time I get the urge to check my phone, I should replace the urge with something else – perhaps take a deep breath or sip of water instead. Taking a page from the previous resolution, I also need to remind myself that unless they’re trying to call you or text you directly, it probably doesn’t really matter.
3. Listen to your body.
My lips are chapped and my hands are dry, especially in the winter. My face has recently started breaking out and I don’t know why (perhaps it’s stress-related. I’ve never had this issue before summer 2016). Sometimes I’ll also over-eat and snack mindlessly. Whereas I’d get sick at most twice a year before, I’ve fallen sick at least four times this year, twice within the past three months. My sleeping habits have gotten out of hand – I had the excuse of “being productive” by not being distracted at night and having the “luxury” of being unemployed before, but I can’t ignore the changes in my body any longer.
These are all indicators of bad habits and I need to start listening before anything gets worse. I need to take better care of myself – eat healthier, drink more fluids, moisturize. Sleep earlier (by midnight) and not have my phone recharging by my bedside.
4. Put in more effort with your family.
Until my friends lamented on the rejection their families place on their queerness, I never realized how lucky I am to have an (Asian) family that accepts their gay daughter/sister. It really hit home during this conversation with my mom:
It was hard at the beginning but since coming out, I’ve gotten a lot closer with my family. My brother is also incredible and I don’t give him enough credit for how much 1.) patience he has with our mom and 2.) effort he puts into keeping the family together. He’ll sacrifice time from his friends and his own time regardless of what is at stake, to keep me and my mom happy. It’s ridiculous and almost saddening. I put less than a fraction of the effort he puts in and it’s not fair. I need to try harder and take my family off the back burner.
5. Be more in touch with and more fearless with my emotions
It’s almost with pride when I tell people that I’m emotionally constipated. While true, the pride stems more from my self-awareness – that I actually know myself well enough to diagnose this – and not from being emotionally constipated. But it has to stop. It’s not healthy – and it’s a wonder I haven’t targeted earlier. The badge is more a to-address item and I need to not bottle up my emotions anymore – whether out of fear or not expressing them all my life, I need to be better at expressing myself.
I put love on a pedestal. I don’t use words lightly and “love” in particular, I reserve. The concept of love, I guard and use stingily. What I need to do is not be so guarded with it – because something is valuable does not mean it cannot be shared with the world. It’s precious, but you cannot cage love and expect it to thrive in the dark. I need to be more open about my feelings, allow myself to be vulnerable – not for the sake of being vulnerable, but more so for the sake of allowing myself to fall in love.
Yeah, I want to fall in love this year. I know it’ll be a delicate balance not being desperate to be with someone while trying to find someone – I don’t want a domestic partnership, I want someone I absolutely love. I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I’ll put myself out there.
6. Spend more time outside my head
Aside from taking a break from the sometimes-tumultuous havoc in my head, I’d like to be more present and take in more of where I am, what I am feeling, the outside. I need to do this.
Take deep breaths. Pause. No music, no nothing. Just take in where you are, how you’re feeling, everything outside of your mind – take it in.
I’ve set a reminder on my Google calendar every month to check-in. These things are so important to my physical and mental health and honestly… it’d be to my own destruction if I don’t abide by them.
Here’s to 2017.
“I don’t know”, she smiled sadly. Her eyes drifted away from me and she was gone. And I was still here.
My fingers began gently tapping on the table, fidgeting to feel present. I was tempted to lose myself into daydream with her, but I remembered we would each be in our own, and not intertwined. What was the point of that?
I didn’t want to hold her captive in the present, so I let her be. But how my heart longs when she’s so far – just across this small diner table – but so far. She’ll come back eventually, I remind myself, after how many ever eternities. I’ll wait.
Her gaze lowered. She was returning.
With a blink, her eyes gazed back at mine, sad from memories she had just re-lived. An unknown that I couldn’t trespass upon.
“I don’t know”, she repeated, more tired than before. No smile this time.
I grew angry at the thought of her deserting me for her thoughts, again. She has needs, that’s just how she is. It’s selfish. You don’t know what she’s going through. It’s unfair that she won’t open up to me. She doesn’t need to. You just need to be there. I can’t do this anymore. You’re going to leave her because you can’t fix her? She’s not yours to fix. I can’t do this anymore. The conditions you place on your love are so hypocritical. I was wrong. I can’t do this anymore.
“You’re doing it again.” she said.
I returned my gaze to hers and felt my brow relax.
“What were you thinking about?”
Her chest rose. And fell.
“It might not be me, but please find someone to talk to.” I couldn’t tell if it was worry or impatience that tinged her voice.
Why are you so distant? Where do you go when your gaze falls from me? Why can’t you take me with you? Please take me with you. “Okay.”
“What’s on your mind?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Pry harder, I begged. If you cared, you’d pry harder. Show me you care.
She pursed her lips and looked down. Her chest rose. And fell.
“Why won’t you open up to me?”
No, this wasn’t the direction that I-
“I’m trying so hard but you- ”
I retreated into my head.
I just wanted to know you cared. You were so close.
On our way to badminton tonight, an ominous, horror-movie-set fog had settled. My brother was driving and I was in the passenger seat. We seldom had quality one-on-one time and it was a great excuse to talk. So talk we did.
We talked about his girl problems. My girl problems. My bout with anxiety. Him smoking and trying to quit. Mom. Dad.
He brought up the question of when I wanted to come out to Dad. I consider myself pretty good at reading people… but my dad is a brick wall. He’s absolutely impossible to read. I knew at his very core, he’d love me no matter what… but his reaction to me being gay was unfathomable to me. My brother asked me again when I wanted to come out to him. I said I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t anything urgent – not until I got me a gf anyway and was dying to show her off to my family. No rush, I said, it’s just something on my to-do list.
I was deeply irritated that my brother chose the rural route in the midst of this fog – our vision went no further than three metres and roads were icy. His rationale for not taking the highway made absolutely no sense and I won’t even bother repeating it. I forced him to pause conversation until we made it out of the fog.
Then we continued talking.
As we were pulling into our driveway from badminton, he asked again “so when do you plan on telling Dad?”. He usually never hangs on to something like this; something must’ve been bugging him.
I reiterated my answer earlier that evening (with patience of course), about how I wasn’t sure how he’d take it but he seemed okay with being on Church Street the few times I took him.
I did a double-take.
I could be wrong.
But it bothers me that (I think) she sees sadness as a hindrance.
I could be wrong about her thinking this.
But I find the ability to appreciate sadness and melancholy beautiful. Without romanticizing depression, there’s a complexity to these emotions that takes real ingenuity to be able to portray in art – whether in musical or visual form. When done well, oh it’s so beautiful. The quiet of a piece that speaks so loudly.
I don’t think I can fall in love with someone who cannot appreciate that.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Recently, I’ve been coming back to a conversation I’ve had with YOLObro. We’re both fairly straight forward, pure-hearted types who wear our hearts on our sleeves – we don’t play games and we fall head first into emotions. We bonded over that… but at one point he painted it in a negative light.
We noted “the game” that people play – playing “hard to get”.
We agreed it’s a psychological trick that makes someone want something more – we want something more when we know we can’t have it.
We agreed neither of us bothered with these games.
But he took it one step further and said “but that’s why people who play these games “get the girl””. I couldn’t disagree – I’ve been fighting it for a long time but it seems that way and there must be a reason why being slow and straight-up hasn’t worked for me thus far.
Do I have to resort to taking advantage of human psychology to get the one I want?
This has been a 2am stream-of-consciousness post.
At the behest of several gays, namely F and J, I’ve been doing plenty of personality quizzes.
According to the Nine Types quiz, I’m a Type 5. Here are some highlights:
- Seeks Privacy
Focus of Attention
- Gaining Knowledge and Wisdom
- Protects Themselves from a World That Asks Too Much
Basic Fear: Being Incompetent and Helpless
The Investigator or Fives, are thinkers who prefer to withdraw in their own world and simply observe, rather than take part in human drama. They are usually well-read, intelligent, thoughtful, and become experts at their area of interest. This is due to Five’s desire to master whatever they spend time on, which stems from their fear of not having enough internal resources to cope with the world.
What they fear they lack are the inner resources necessary, such as time and energy, to cope with life. They tend to hoard these resources, and protect them fiercely. This is the reason for their detachment. They don’t want to be imposed upon. In order to protect themselves from an intrusive world, and from insufficient resources, Fives take refuge inside their minds. They detach from feelings and rejects claims to their time, energy and emotions. They reduce their needs and focus on pursuing self-sufficiency.
This personality does not like putting themselves in a position of vulnerability. They are non-intrusive and very independent.
Advice for Challenges Fives deal with:
- Try to get in touch with your emotions, and let others in once in a while.
One of the most disappointing things about having caught feels for the Asian girl is the time and energy I feel that I’ve wasted in investing them in her. I’ve told her so much about myself with minimal ROI, and it just feels like I could’ve spent that time and those stories on someone else. This description of a Type Five holding tightly onto such resources rings so true, particularly in this scenario, for me.
I’m independent af, this is true. It’s interesting that whenever I go to someone for emotional/girl-related problems, one of the first things they tell me is that I’m overthinking things… Yet there was no mention of “overthinking” as a weakness. It’s the literal bane of me.
I was catching up with an old friend from badminton today and told her about my dynamic with F and J (/and associated feelings) and she told me that as much as I’m assessing the situation, I’m putting far too much weight on things that don’t matter – e.g. wanting to address whether one has feelings for another and if that even matters. It’s irrelevant.
So I drafted an email to myself for a New Year’s Resolution – Stop overthinking. If this year has taught me anything, it’s that thinking can be detrimental to your mental health after a certain point. It won’t be as simple as that – I’ll have to recognize when I’m overthinking (especially when it’s related to feelings) and deliberately re-direct my attention to something actually productive.
Whelp, recognition is the first step.