Sup3rnality

I wonder if people forget that we, he and I, are separate but together. Two units but united. What he chooses to do are not necessarily what I will choose to do. And how he thinks is not necessarily how I think. His actions are his and so are mine. His words may not be my own.

And while I will be his biggest fan, the rock to keep him grounded, the comfort to ease his heart, the other half that makes us whole, I can only speak on his behalf, but I am not him. I can only speak for myself.

Sometimes I forget that in spite of all my insecurities, my imperfections, the flaws in my character, he drives me to where I need to be. He waits in the car for me to finish work late into the early morning. He tolerates my sometimes tasteless or dodgy cooking. He shields me from incoming traffic. He lets me choose where to eat, eventhough most times I just don't know. He makes up names for me no one else gets but we two. His tone of anger and worry when I don't pick up the phone after several rings. He lets me have my way, even when it's not the best way.

Sometimes it's not the grand expressions.

Sometimes it's the little things.

That's how I know you love me.

And I love you, too.

Life has changed so much since I first started this blog, and that was about a decade ago, I think. Ten years. Wow.  Ten years.

When I first sat down that day in that Zainab College cyber cafe to start blogging, I wouldn't have had imagined that ten years later I would be looking into the screen of a PC and pouring words into the same container I did when I was only 17 going on 18 -- with so many changes to my life in between.

I was in a state on confusion when I began sharing my thoughts in cyberspace - my love life was in limbo, I became angsty - albeit a bit late in my youth - I discovered the pains of life away from home, I had to find my own two feet which I thought I had already found, I got to know Betrayal and Distrust, I fell in love and I made my way into adulthood stumbling.

As a teen I had my life figured out. Or so I thought. I was a somewhat mild-mannered teen, never got into much trouble, I just had a dislike for homework and had average grades. I never had to truly deal with the confusion of teenhood, I clearly saw my path forward and coasted my way there.

But Life caught up with me along the way, and I was hit full in the face with it well into my twenties.

Throughout this blog I chronicled my heartbreak of losing my first love. In riddles and metaphors, I tried to unravel the mysteries but never quite found the answer. It took me six years. Six years. I lost a lot of years pining for you, dear Mr You-know-who-you-are. I was 16, and I was lost in the throes of teen love. Someone loved me, and I held on to that like a beacon I never thought I would see.

But in the end you were whom I originally thought you were on that quiet day in 1998 when you first told me you loved me: a friend. And I would not dare change that fact. And I think you did too down the line. It took me six years and more to realise that - and I remember that day when it happened so clearly in that McDonald's where we used to meet.

I'm happy we both found what we really were looking for.

In ten years I've fallen out with friends, with family time and time again. I'd right the wrongs I did if I could, but these are the bitter pills I swallow that has made me the better person I am today.

Better? Well, the jury is still out in that one. There were a lot of things I thought I would have achieved by now, and I have also achieved a lot else, but perhaps not in the order I thought I would.

Friends have unknowingly said comforting words that when times are hard, even though I know I shouldn't take them to heart, the echoes of their comfort calms me, and assures me that things will be alright when my time comes.

I try not to dwell too much on it. There's a battle in my head and which side wins depends on the order of the day.

Here and now is good. So we'll ride out the storm for as long as possible.

Phew, ten years.

I have been in and out of IIUM - the reason I started blogging in the first place. At Julia's urging, I started with Xanga, then moved on here to Blogger halfway through my career as a blogger. Well, blogger by my standards, at least.

I had a lot to say then. A lot to vent out. Not that I don't have to now, but I have other avenues. Asdil, being one.

Asdil. Who would have thought we would end up the way we are? He was the fire the gave light to the dark nights that lasted too many years. He burned a hole through the apparitions that much too long occupied my thinking space.

Then, together, we have grown on each other, with each other, for each other and have become what we are. Friends. Lovers. Confidantes. He's mine and so much more. Ten years ago, this wouldn't have even cross my mind. And yet I cannot believe how there was a big part of my life he was not a part of. He feels like he has been there from the start.

In ten years, I've done things I told myself I'd never do. I have time and again redefined myself. The ideas and ideology I once held close to my heart are now but a part of an ideal world I gave up the idea of living in.

It's hard to put into words the magnitude of how much time has past, but how small I feel in the midst of it all. In my mind's eye I see how things would have been if I chose different paths, at least, how I think it would be. But while some paths seem like the better deal, when it all comes down to it, I would not change a thing.

The most I can do is say sorry for the things I did not really mean to say, things I didn't really mean to do and hope for forgiveness.

It's hard to wrap my head around. Thinking about time and space and life and the frailness and fragility of it all. But here I am. And no matter how much time will past or how much time I have left, I am thankful for all I have. I'm thankful that in this moment in time, I am me and have the ability to still be me.

14/6 - Just realised how this might be interpreted. It's not what you may think it means, but I wrote in this way to not say what I mean. 

The way he looks when...
The calm
The crease of inquisition
Etching trenches on his forehead
The quite murmurs
The soft exhales
Silence but a breath catching
The way he looks when...
Makes me wonder if in
That place only he knows
If he knows
That he fills
the spaces between
Heartbeats
If he knows that
Sometimes I find solace
Staring into the Fire
To melt the coldness I fear
Are building fortresses
around my heart
The way he looks when...
He may not know, but I do
This moment that is mine
I use to memorise
the character of his face

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2013

I don't fancy myself a good poet, but when I do wax lyrical, it's from the heart.

My heart is in constant turmoil. Sometimes I cannot tell one emotion from the other. Which to feel, which to keep? This one and that. The left or the right.

Questions. There are too much to count. Yet here they come. More and more. Every breath I take, new life is blown into them.

I am a walking contradiction. I remember saying this many years ago; remember writing, that is. Has it been 10 years? No, more. And yet this many years on, I still feel they hold true.

I do not know how to wear my heart on my sleeve. I feel, I do not show. Not when I can help it, that is. The emotions that play across the canvas of my face belies the rumblings underneath.

I cannot describe in words the depth of storm in me, it's easier to hide behind smiles.

Here's one right now. And another. Can you tell which one's the genuine smile of happiness? I'll give you a clue: They're all happy but slightly tainted with a hint of despair.

Bills. Rent. Car. Petrol. Food. Money for my family.

All need paying, but funds are slowly diminishing.

So congratulations, people, you are taking away the livelihood that I enjoy and that actually appreciates me compared to my past experience.

Congratulations, you have achieved your goal while making the lives of others caught in the crossfire difficult.

Yes, thank you, I do love rationing my food supply every month like what I've been doing lately. And I do love turning down meeting old friends because I cannot spare the extra cash. I do love not seeing my family in Seremban because travelling back and forth consumes petrol and petrol means cash.

It's nice how people can live their ideals without reality getting in the way.

On a related note, it's funny how people fight for their freedom of opinion, yet reject and criticise others for having their own.

Truth be told, 
Oh, yes it must be told
You have been like a lifeline
To me.
To you, 
I must be like kite
Way up too high, cloudbound
Without you, my kitestring.
And you hold me down
No, you anchor me
Like a lost boat 
Floating out to sea
But you found me
You caught me swaying
In the Wind.
Wind me down
I'm too spun around
Tight.
Not looking to fly high
Just enough to touch the sky
And then you ground me
Heaven meets the Earth
Everytime it's like the first
Yes, you're a lifeline to me.
Me -- hold on to me.

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2013

* Written in less than two minutes with a tune going with it as each line flowed.

The presumptions - there are so many on what they call "excuses". But not even one hits the mark. Not mine, anyway. They don't understand and they don't want to. Further proves to me that people only see what they want to see. Further proves that people just love being holier than thou. Well, it's okay. I will not stoop to their standards. What's mine is mine alone, me and my heart. They will never feel the ache I feel.

All I can for polling day/the aftermath are:

- It's like Raya and the shopping malls were empty. I managed to do my shopping in a jiffy.
- I know now how it is like in the newsroom on polling day and after it.
- I now know the amount of food that will be provided so that we will stay awake til the wee hours...and not to bring more food or eat right before coming to work.
- I know why I do what I do...or don't.
- I am thankful that I still have a job and that I can continue to pay my rent, my bills, give my parents money and live comfortably enough.

The Attitude - only proves what I already feel to be true to me.

The Attitude - gives me conviction to choose what to do or not to do.

The Attitude - makes me upset, knowing that this is from those I think more of.

Ah well, and they ask me why I do what I do.

Bottom line is, practice what you preach and there is more than one way to see things.

I hate that you have taken a part of me that may be a long time coming until I find again. The fact that unwillingly you have let a monster loose inside me to poison my heart and cast dark shadows on my sight, fills me with an ache that knows no depth.

I thought you were gone, but here you are again.

I don't know who you are, but what I know of you has done enough damage that will take time to rebuild. (I hope it does).

The helpless romantic in my heart (the one I hide so nobody knows where my vulnerability lies) assures me that all will prevail if you trust enough. My mind, my never-resting over-analytical mind, tells me to proceed with caution.

Why does my fate feels like it belongs in the hands of another?

Can I close my eyes and take myself back to August? Before I woke up to that nightmare. Before I started going to sleep every night after staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, sometimes with tears staining my pillow.

Can I no longer dance with Doubt?

I don't know how to cut you out. Cut out my heart and search for that piece of venom you lodged in the recesses of my being? Can I? And if I do, will you have left?

I hate you. Oh God know how much I do. You have stolen piece of me. Or have you stolen more than that?

Please, can I ever sleep easy?

I cannot say much right here at work lest I break down and cry.

But Pirate, I miss you already. Time with you has been brief, but you have added to my collection of happy memories. I am sorry you were accidentally locked out of your home where your siblings were and that you happened upon some poison and innocently ate it. I'm sorry you suffered a long cold night wracked with pain. I'm sorry we found you too late. And I'm sorry you died lonely in the clinic without the familiar faces of your family. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to say goodbye. Goodnight, Pirate.

Hello 2013,

What do you have in store for me?

I don't ask for a lot because I often feel I do not deserve it but, I ask for happiness for my family and the strength to persevere, come what may. I wish for patience so things may be the way it wants to be.

I ask for willpower to take care of my health. And willpower to be better to myself and to fulfill my responsibilities.

I wish that I would be in touch with my friends more, and appreciate them more. I hope to be a better friend to those I have neglected.

And I hope that this year would be another year in a lifetime that I would share with the person who makes every crazy day either crazier or keeps it real for me. Asdil, this is my hoping you would always take me for who I am, be there for me at weakest, help me to be better. I love you.

Thank you for being kind to me 2012, for the most part. I'll take the trials and tribulations you gave me and hope they would make me a better person.

Love,
Hazlin