Those endless walks. We used to chat and laugh and never cared where we’d end up. Bus and train rides listening to songs and doing puzzles. Movie dates and L4D dates. Annies. Webcam sessions. Paper bag date. You fell asleep and ended up with bird poo on your shoulder before the end of the night without either of us noticing it was on your shirt the whole time.

You not turning up the first time cause you were cooking. That still makes me smile.

Borrowed tees. Your V-neck obsession. Spilling sprite on my hair. And then your wardrobe malfunction in the pics. Me wanting something and then you’d surprise me by telling me you wanted to go to the loo. And then coming back with a paper bag You getting my size wrong for the Birks and then complaining when I didn’t like the design. I know I’m an ingrate. Lol.

Dragging you to shops, supper at Yew Tee. Same polka dot shoes. Same boat shoes. Same calculator watches. The robot tattoo and how I came to see you to whine about the pain after. Doing my ears and how you used to give me a kiss every time after it was done. You wanted me to be brave and that was my reward. Sleepovers and sneaking out. Chicken chop suppers at Hougang. Chicken rice breakfasts. You forgetting which bus to take to my place every week. Or taking the wrong train home. Or falling asleep in the train and ending up at Jurong East. You drooling on my arm during the train ride. Pretty face, not when you’re asleep in public though.

My birthday surprise. Turning up at the door at midnight just to give me my present. And the card I already found in your bag before you gave it to me. Exploring Iluma and the time you dropped your wallet in the cinema. You sure got an earful from me. Your mum forgetting my name. Your dad nagging bout the last time I slept over.

Holding hands when we were eating. Sleeping. You made me smile every single second I was with you.

Cold windy nights sitting by the Singapore River. Talking bout our next tattoos. I was so fucking happy. Meeting day after day, pinching your ear every time I caught you checking chicks out. Study sessions at Esplanade and Cathay. Endless artsy movies. You dissing Twilight and loving Handsome Suit. Or The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Library dates. Coffee dates. You always taking a longer time in the toilet checking your reflection. You carried my bag everywhere, and you never complained. Stealing ciggies from my cigarette case. Teaching me how to do roll-ups. Wonder if I still remember how to. I wonder why you’re late and I end up finding you in the LAN shop, not realizing it was time to meet me. You sulking at Lucky Plaza the first time we ate there. And Cuppage suppers. Your teh chino which they never got right.

You’ve always known what I was feeling. You never left me on my own for a second if you could help it. We never argued. I never had to explain stuff to you, you just somehow got it. You read my heart when it wasn’t readable to anyone else.

Weren’t those awesome times? Thanks. For showing me how it’s done I’m sorry if I gave you so many cards. I never knew how potent they could be. Your scrawly handwriting. My leftie. Always.

Hasta el final.

And congrats on the baby. Looks like you’ll be the first one with the baby carriage.

How do you otherwise deal with the fact that your dreams are better than reality? I lie awake at night, thinking about what used to be, and what could have been. I really believe things could have gotten better. And sadly, I still do.

I wonder why it feels like we’re living on different planets though he’s fifteen minutes away, geographically speaking. We had only good times to look back on, and needless to say, nothing else comes quite close.

It feels so final even though we’re on a timeout. I don’t even know why he’s acting like this, totally not the person I spent two years with. Was I naive to think we had a shot at a happily ever after? Am I being more naive still in believing that ending up together is the only possible outcome of this timeout?

It’s like he deliberately acts like a jerk now so he can’t live with himself, ultimately reducing our chances of rebuilding what we had to zilch. And of course I’m all too ready to be the doormat, falling at his feet even though he doesn’t want me to.

What happened to everything you stood for? What happened to us? You say it’s nothing to do with me, but as it turns out, I’m the one who feels like shit every day we’re apart, waiting for you to make it up to me.

To say you know you messed up, and instead of going against your principles, start to pick up the pieces with me. Tell me that you don’t know if we can make it, but at least promise that you’re gonna try. That you know we’re worth holding on to.

I knew you were the one even when things were perfect. It didn’t take this time apart for it to dawn upon me. So don’t give me that bull bout me wanting you even when you don’t know what you want. Don’t you get it? The only one who can fix this is you. Not the next guy who comes along cause no one else will mean anything to me.

Call me stupid or naive, I know what I want and what’s good for me. I’ve found it and I’ll be damned if I let it go.

It is not me to contemplate self-destruction, but going through it is another story altogether.

Cause I just don’t see any other way out of it. The hole you dug gets deeper and deeper everyday, and I just wait for night to come so my dreams lull me into thinking that things are finally how they’re supposed to be. Cause my forever fave boy is there when I close my eyes. Where I’m not last in his list of priorities and in his heart.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

Earning my moolah and spending it ALL. On Forever 21, no less. I’ve got new socks, jeans, totes,  tops, rings, bracelets, the works. What’s a new year without a new wardrobe, eh? I finally splurged on basic tees! I think I bought twenty. The words ‘too much’ just don’t exist in my dictionary. And if you’re curious, I’m still with the same old ball and chain. Was reading through the older posts and it really seems like forever since I’ve been with the dude (in a good way, of course). Saturday nights spent together killing zombies, or watching late-night movies, or just sitting at Clarke Quay or Arab Street, just dreaming. And soon it’ll be two years. Just like that. Of course, he’s been getting on my nerves lately. Which boyfriend doesn’t? Just that this one is too cute to stay mad at.

I still want my treat though! I’m going to ask every week till you cave in and gimme my calories and cholesterol! Hah.

I need to go and get my netbook fixed. Urgh. I can’t live w/o the damn thing. And I have to go mailing tomorrow. And I need to go on dates and snap piccies. And hit the town and go shopping. It’s been weeks since I checked out what’s new at my favourite joints.

I’m trying to put aside money this year, with advice from friends and of my own volition. I wanna save up for that elusive rainy day. Now where’s that elusive piggy bank? If only I could envision a life without shopping. Or cigarettes. Or pens. Sigh.

I’ll be a quarter of a century old this year. And what do I have to show for it? A sodding 5 Year Plan. Which isn’t even concrete. And I want my bike licence. NOW.

The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus was awesome! If only that really existed. And I love spending quality time with the bf, even though he was shagged from work. Well, for all the effort I put in for his birthday (which he thought was planned badly but who cares, I tried) I hope there’ll be something special for the big annie coming up. Screw Valentine’s Day. I’m learning to choose my battles.

I’m still crazy for owls. New year, old love.

I watched the X’mas special of CSI NY, and I thought this was a really cute song. And that the guy was too good to be a one-time actor. Like he could really sing.  And guess what? They’re a band. Train, for God’s sake.  I could poke my eyes. Really.

The bf is working at F21. Started earlier today Awesome. Hopefully he gets free clothes. Or employee discounts, at the very least. Maybe spending time with other chicks will keep him occupied enough for me to start revising.

I ended up lugging cough syrup, bottles of water, a box of Strepsils AND my shopping from BPP and IMM to my lesson at Boon Lay just now. Now my shoulder blades feel so strained. I ended the lesson half an hour later than I should’ve, and I took the wrong bus home. I may or may not be losing my sanity. I can’t decide.

And I drank enough water today to fill an Olympic-sized pool, or so it feels. When I got home, in true Olympic spirit, a 10-metre dash to the loo. I don’t think everyone does that. Get breathless from running while sitting on the toilet seat. Or do they?

I bought stationery. And some storage boxes for all my lined notebooks. They just sit on my table forlornly, from day to day, wondering when they’ll be put to use. And all the while, I just keep buying more and more, in different shapes and sizes. I swear, they’re tempting me. They only appear when I have money, and leerily invite me to leaf through their pages, with tenderness and adoration. What kind of a twisted freak gets turned on by stationery? If I knew, I wouldn’t be the embarrassing owner of a thousand notebooks, letter pads and writing materials that qualify as nonsense to the untrained eye. And to think I just went stationery shopping yesterday. Five pens and three correction tapes. (It was justified because I was making the most of a 20%  discount okayyy. Also, Daddy’s treat for picking out assessment books for the brother who starts Secondary One next year. Plus, I got to keep the change).

Meh.

I saw a polka dot backpack online! I see. I want. I buy. The three steps to instant gratification. Repeat until broke. Then bug bf to get a job and start pointing at shop displays again.

Speaking of which, say hello to Allison. I hope she’s gonna be my new fave bag. Polka dots line her body! Made from animal-unfriendly leather though, so she’s gonna be a tricky one to take on dates. So I take my bags out on dates. Anything wrong with that? Just the two of us, ogling stationery and other bags. Hee.

I’ve found an old love in my cardboard box full of bags, which I’m lugging around now. She’s awesome too, she never complains, has considerable mass which allows me to stuff every item of possession I tend to carry out with me, made of canvas which means I can stick buttons on her, and is timelessly cute. My first Deux Lux bag. And boy has she stood the test of time.

Isn’t this a beauty? I thought it’d look nice in my room, with the other black and white and sepia posters.

And I got me a new bookcase from Ikea. My room’s looking a lot neater now, even though I had to make room for the new bookcase by isolating a small cupboard which is now standing in the middle of the room. There’s still a lot of head-scratching to do before I decide how to re-arrange everything else. And my polka dot curtain is back up, fulfilling its job of covering the window. The boyfriend promised me a pink lamp, which I mustn’t forget the next time I’m bringing hell to Earth for the boyfriend (read: another Ikea trip). He gets so bored, and the only thing that helps is apparently shoving plush toys in my face. Oh, the joys of being attached (and having a love affair with the furniture giant).

Assembling the bookcase took a bit of time, during which I felt as if the boyfriend was going to fling a screwdriver at me, if he had one. With regard to this, we don’t make a good pair, when we were done, I realized the bookcase wasn’t standing properly cause the legs weren’t on the correct side, eliciting a long-suffering sigh from the other side of the bookcase and a fair bit of eye-rolling.

Anyhoo, that’s all sorted now. I love my newest acquisition, bringing my total furniture collection to a grand total of one bookcase, assembled exactly like its Ikea twin. And I got queen bedsheets too! At an awesome price, in taupe and pink. Too bad I’m feeling lazy to change the sheets, so I’ll wait till the bf comes over and try to subtly suggest that I’d like to put my new sheets to use. Hahaha.

And I’ve got another huge surprise for the bf. Which he won’t like, since it entails spending my pay, but I’m sure he’ll like since it comes in a pair! The previous surprise was an adorable Wolverine tee from Urban Outfitters, which looks great and fits the way he likes it. Tight.  Here, have a peek.

I can’t upload pics of surprises here until they’re revealed to him so that’s a bummer, but I guess it’s worth it, just to see the look on his face.

And I have my Matroyshka stickers. Like finally. I got him to buy them for me since the shop that sells them is near his workplace, and I love them to bits! Though I’ve no idea if I’ll be using them anytime soon, but that’s not the point right? My current fixation is anything that has these dolls on them, and so far I’ve got a pouch, and post-its! Whee. And I’m looking to expand the collection, with netbook sleeves with the print on them!

I want my pink Vans with skulls. Hope they go on sale soon or something, so I can wear them out and prevent my feet from getting any darker from all the time I spend in the sun, shuttling from lesson to lesson. Bleah. This job has its perks, like self-proclaimed ten-year-old gangsters and the most adorable batch of pre-primary school kids who always give me impish grins, but I am not loving the effect it has on my skin. My legs are darker and tanned, and I can’t bring myself to wear pants or jeans cause they’re so stuffy and the weather is just too humid to even contemplate covering up, although I’m relishing being able to hoard tons of cardigans and sweaters and hoodies for rainy days. Ha. Though now I’m considering adding a polka-dot brolly to my arsenal since it can come in handy as well.

I’ve updated my netbook with my iTunes library and also my iPod earlier today, so I’m feeling accomplished, with the Ikea trip and all. And now, off to Daiso to get those document trays!

Awesomest song ever. Can’t wait to get it on my iPod touch.

As it is, I’ve been busy for the past few months, moving out and trying to settle into a lovely little room on the other side of the island. So I’ve pretty much neglected this little space of my own on the World Wide Web.

Apart from scrimping and saving to buy clothes, and daily lessons that I’ve got to grit my teeth and bear with, my life has been looking up. Every time I go home (Hougang), I’m reminded that there is a better place, waiting for me. A room with privacy, without six-year-old annoying twits to resist the urge to slap, a big, big bed to lie on, late at night, while I bite the end of my pencil trying to contemplate the workings of the world; the world of numbers famously known as Sudoku.

And I’ve been on pencil-buying sprees (I bought a pencil for left-handers yesterday! *squeals*), and trips to the library every so often, sometimes with the boyfriend in tow.  And I’m loving every minute of it of every day, when I wake up to the smell of freedom (and dirty laundry) in this little haven of mine.

The fasting month is almost over, and I’ll get my boyfriend back. To cuddle with at nights and to hold hands with on dates which take place before seven p.m. I have a yummy little surprise for him up my sleeve, and judging by the time it’s taken for that yummy little surprise to get here, I’ve let half the cat out of the bag, figuratively speaking. I’m almost bursting to tell him what it is, yet all I get is a nonchalant shrug and an air of indifference. Ingrate. Though I must say, a cute one at that.

We’ve survived eighteen months together, well, maybe I should say that HE has, since he’s now helping to pay half my rent, plus a little pocket money for me in between. And I can tell you, he ain’t happy. Though all I get is some grumbling, I know I should spend less. But me being me, I can’t(obviously). And now we have a tattoo fund. Ha. He matches my contributions dollar for dollar, so the more I save, the quicker we get our ink. Yay us!

And and and I got my exam results and I passed the module that I’ve been trying desperately not to flunk (again), so all is fine in Futureland. I’ve got to start reading and making notes, though, and there’s hardly any excuse now for me not to since my books are here already, waiting for me to leaf through them and discover the meaning of existence. Yeah, right.

Even someone as obsessed as I am with books knows that they only nudge you along, and the finality of the last page never promises you enlightenment. Besides, I don’t want to be enlightened. I want to be filthy, stinking rich. But since it doesn’t look like a millionaire might be coming my way, I’m sticking with this sweetie who’s been such a dear. Whom I’ve scared into thinking that he has diabetes. Ha bloody ha. (He even mentioned his toe being a little black.) And there you have it, my dears, the power of suggestion.

And I’m typing all this from my new shiny, yo.

Ain’t she a beauty? And I love her. For being new. And dependable. And shiny. And energy-saving. And for being a present from my biological sugar daddy.

Of course, I’ve ordered handmade netbook sleeves to make sure she stays shiny. They’re gorgeous and, of course, very practical, I must emphasise.  They’ll be arriving in a few weeks, so stay tuned for them!