Marriage

i know i am old enough to have friends who are married or getting married. although 24 is not that old an age, it is no longer that young an age either, where i had find people getting married…

nevertheless, i still find it disturbing as people around me up and get married, and then get a very strangely routine life that i had never really…. foresee. be it because i knew them well before, or because i myself never even notice the existence of a routine life, i have to say, the switch is often too shocking for me.

when my friends first started dating, i was the untamed horse of the class. i have no idea how to even know guys, much less actually have a boyfriend and know how to handle him. i was not a looker either, not that i am now anyways. i had say, i am less of a looker now than i was previously. i had curfews to fulfill, i was a broke little girl. so i didn’t go out as often as the other girls in my school, in my class, nor did i even bother to try.

i mean, i didn’t have curfew, but i set myself ones, and thus, i never really needed to spend my money, and so i survive on 2.50/5 bux a day, just for recess periods in school, and later on, lunch. and then some busfares.

however, the weird part is, everyone i was close to had come to me with their relationship problems. they had be weeping about how the guys “silent dump” them. which meant they broke off without a word.

or basically any questions, even sex, something which i considered taboo at that point in time (and i still do depending on the situation) and i didn’t really want to know or talk about. i mean, seriously, i have a graphical imagination. i REALLY don’t want to know my friend had sex with someone else.

eventually, the tears from friends built me a pathway to singledom. i didn’t want any thing to do with relationships till i find a guy i feel would really take care of me, would not hurt me, and we would be happy. none of that teary bullshit, because i know, when i do cry, i would want to cry alone. and that’s so… lonely.

i like dramas though, duh, and the sympathy that comes along with the tears. but when true tears fall, i had find a corner somewhere and just sit there and sob.

so relationships, as i have decided, were not things i wanted to try out.

however, i met someone while working. another colleague and him fell in love with me, or so the story goes. i didn’t had the “moon face effect” then, and though i wasn’t a looker in my opinion, that someone liked how i look, but not how i was inside.

and i didn’t know that.

and my heart got broken into a zillion pieces, even though i promised myself i had never let myself go through that kind of pain.

months from that, i survived, thinner, broken, sobby, all kinda crap that u can think of, but physically in one piece. that’s probably about all that was me that’s one piece anyways. but neal came along, and i fell in love, we fell in love, or so i thought.

to this day, i won’t forget how he treated me, how in love i was with him, how turbulent a relationship we had, and the reason he gave me for breaking up with me, and of course, the last few months of the relationship.

while we had cutesy nicknames for each other, somehting he wanted because he thinks it makes the girl happy, and he does accommadate me as much as possible, we had our massive arguments because of the huge differences in opinions. he had care more about his ego than what is right.

or he had not care about having fun just so that he looks good.

i don’t think i had ever quite lost the fun-loving streak in me anyways.

he wanted me to mature, i wanted to have fun with life, since it’s short.

and since i was sickly during those 3 years that i knew him, it felt like everyday deserves to be a holiday.

he was the last person to visit me when i landed in the hospital, the last person to ask me how i was (because i called him).

and when i fell ill again, this time more or less long term, i went from anorexic to a water retensive person for various reasons.

probably no one knows this, i swung dangerously between anorexic and bulimic before i was 18. i had deliberately work and eat only 1 meal, only to throw up at home. i grew packs on my tummy from throwing up heaps. oh yes, i was a wreck, but i just wanted to look good like everyone in my school. and while i didnt want a boyfriend, i craved for attention from the other sex, even though we had no males in school, save the old doddery ones that poses as our teacher.

or i had not eat and had just throw up anyways.

neal didn’t like the fact that i was so pushy a character at times. and when i blew up, it also gave him an excuse to dump me. “you are too fat for me, i don’t want people to make fun of us behind our backs and hurt us.”

and thus he walked out of my life.

or so i thought.

over the last few years, i have been close friends with his friends, the very people he didn’t like me to be planning things behind his back with. he doesn’t want to owe them favours because of me, he didn’t like me mingling with his friends, because they are his.

ultimately though, what brought me closer to them, was also coz i couldn’t stop thinking of him for a little bit after we broke up. eventually i saw him as what he was though:

a shallow motherfucker.

he thinks women are predictable, are meant to be predicatable, and is a sub conscious male chauvinist pig.

and he finds that funny.

what i found funny was, the girls he likes though, the way he describes them, sound as shallow as him. and he had just go after them anyways, going for expensive hair cuts, or clothes, to look “in”.

last year, i saw a picture of a girl he left on his mobile. every time he gets a new girl he likes, he had ask me how to handle them, what presents to buy them and so on. and call them his sons, like how we used to call the softies he bought for me.

i won’t say it didn’t hurt then, or i didn’t feel awkward each time he asks me to help him get a girl. i did want to treat him as a friend though, no matter how much he had treat me otherwise, so i had help him anyways.

2 saturdays ago… he got married to the girl in the picture. they have been working together for about 2 years now or something, or less (can’t remember when he got the job). they were together since april, and basically decided to get married.

he used to call me doll

he calls her his princess.

her pooh bears are his sons.

i feel weird again, looking at those pictures of their wedding on friendster, and then seeing certain similarities between her and me, except i don’t want to think about it.

it’s not that i am not over him, there’s just this awkwardness you know you feel, when someone you used to think you are going to spend the rest of life with, is now suddenly married, and omg, it’s not you.

of course there’s this awkwardness too, since i have a feeling he hasn’t changed much from the shallow person i knew.

i can only wish them happiness.