I knew I would be writing this post sooner or later but now that I’m here, I don’t know how to start. I even attempted to click away and leave it for the time being. But I staunchly believe documenting a moment when it’s still fresh is priceless and much better than a fuzzy and contorted memory.
I never wanted to hurt anybody. Let me just get that out there. I knew I was less emotionally invested in the relationship than The Boy, but I was giving it a real shot. If I honestly thought that I didn’t care for him, or that there wasn’t a potential for us, I wouldn’t have bothered.
But this past weekend, in a moment of rare clarity, I realized that this relationship was never going to go anywhere. It didn’t have a long-term future, it barely had a medium-term future. All it had was the here and now – that initial curiousity and unusual level of tolerance before things start to fizz out. And although things had not started to fizz out for us yet, the moment I came to my realization was the moment it started to fizz out for me.
My fizzing out process didn’t take long – what can I say, I don’t waste time in any aspect of life – and by Sunday, I was seriously considering ending it. But I wondered if my decision was too abrupt. After all, only a week earlier, we had been in the throes of passion (only hindered by the lack of a condom), and by all calculations, this weekend was the weekend we would be consummating our relationship for the first time. I wouldn’t have minded, it wasn’t the physical act of love that I was running away from. In fact, I would have loved to lock in some guaranteed lovin’ for the next month or two. Presumably with that expectation, The Boy had invited me over to his place on Sunday.
And then I broke up with him.
And it was a horrible break-up experience. Granted I’ve (luckily) only had two proper break-ups, but even in the years to come, I’m sure this one will stay among the worst.
Let me back-track a little.
All of last week, I was working in KL. I came back to Singapore on Friday morning and went directly from the airport to the office and worked for the rest of the day. There was a consultant from the Sydney office working in Singapore right now, he is one of the new hires that I got to know briefly before I left for KL. FuzzyKiwiBoy and I ended up talking a lot during Friday’s Happy Hour, long after everyone else had left the office. It seemed like we shared the same perspective on a lot of things, particularly with relation to the Singapore office. He was the first coworker I’d met that I felt I had a real connection with, that I could actually be friends with, and the feeling was mutual. Since he didn’t know anyone in Singapore, I said I’d be happy to go out for drinks with him after. We ended up playing Monopoly (as a drinking game) in our office pantry until 10pm, then my Canto friends called me and asked if I was in Singapore. They said they were going for drinks somewhere so FuzzyKiwiBoy and I joined them.
The Monopoly drinking game was actually quite lethal, and by the time we went to join my friends, FKB and I were already drunk. As the night progressed, we ended up having flaming lamborghinis, which just got us more pissed. Around 1am, we headed to CCB‘s place to play 三国杀. I didn’t get home until past 4am.
At noon on Saturday, I met The Boy for lunch and shopping. From the moment we met up something was wrong – with me. My patience for his naivety and childishness was even thinner than usual. I was acting like he had done something wrong even before I got into the cab. I didn’t know it at the time, but in hindsight, I think I was comparing how easy it had been for FKB to understand the way I think and feel and how difficult it is for The Boy to truly understand even one bit of the way my mind works. There are two reasons for this.
One, FKB and I both grew up in Western cultures. Although The Boy spent five years in the UK, he hung out mostly with his own kind and never really adopted the Western mindset. My expectations when it comes to relationships are completely different from him (and most other Asians), and I place a huge amount of importance on privacy and independence, which are not even on his list of priorities. When FKB was telling me about his relationships, we immediately and unanimously reacted the same way to the same things – whether a certain thing was too fast or too much or too unreasonable.
Two, FKB and I are both really smart. I know this sounds like a horrible thing to say, but I’m saying this because being smart is like any other characteristic that could set you apart from the masses. Growing up with above-average intelligence can throw social hurdles your way just as much as growing up as a minority race or growing up with a mental or physical handicap. As long as you’re set apart from the average, that will give the masses a reason to reject you. You will feel this in one way or another throughout your life and it will be a fundamental force that shapes your experiences. The Boy is of average intelligence and ambition. He cannot relate to many of my experiences because I was never average. Neither was FKB, or any of my high school friends.
I’m not saying that this comparison made me want to run into the arms of FKB, but it gave me a sense, a measuring stick if you will, of how far apart The Boy and I stand. All our deep conversations are so difficult because I have to go back to the fundamentals and start explaining from there before I can even tell him about one anecdote. I had known from our rocky beginning that The Boy and I had different expectations when it came to relationships, but if it was just that, I thought I could work with that. We could compromise on different things and with time, I’d catch up a little and he’d slow down a little and we’d be on the same page. But now this was no longer just relationship expectations. This was me realizing that The Boy did not, on a fundamental level, understand me. And I did not truly understand him.
I used to think that opposites attract, but I think that theory only holds on a surface level. Deep down, I think it is true what they say about humans being attracted to people who are similar to themselves, as opposed to different. It also, to some degree, explains the theory that females are attracted to males who remind them of their father, and males are attracted to females who remind them of their mother. Our parents are a large part of who we are, how we think or how we see the world, and someone who reminds us of our own parent must be someone who we can relate to on a fundamental level.
This is a much deeper analysis than I delved into on Saturday. All I knew was that I felt like I had nothing to say to The Boy, and that I’d much rather be spending my time with my other friends than with him. So I made an excuse to get away, and ended up spending the night out with the Canto group and FKB. We went to a board game cafe first, then later that night got a table at Butter Factory, a club I hadn’t been to yet. Bottle service and hip hop music took my mind completely off the weirdness with The Boy earlier in the day.
Ever since Friday, I’d gotten the sense that FKB was developing an interest in me. On Saturday night, he hit on me a few times, but I didn’t return the sentiment. Regardless of the fact that I was still, at that point, in a relationship with The Boy, I’m pretty sure I’d never go there – dating a coworker just doesn’t seem like a smart idea.
On Sunday, I had brunch with a Singaporean friend I hadn’t seen in a while. He was moving out of Singapore permanently so I thought I’d better see him one last time. The Boy was bummed that I had made plans on Sunday, since Sunday was our agreed-upon date day. I hadn’t seen this friend in months, so I caught him up on a lot of what has happened in my life, including my relationship with The Boy. When I compacted the last three months into 30min, it made me realize that there has actually been a lot of drama in my life recently. Moreover, he was quick to judge The Boy as definitely not right for me, and why was I even with him?
Being confronted with that question on a day when I was starting to think about breaking up with him was definitely a catalyst for me to end it. The idea of the break-up had only been planted in my mind for less than 48 hours, so it seemed a bit extreme and abrupt. But I had no doubt it was the right thing to do, whether I did it that day or in a week or in a month.
So after brunch, I headed over to The Boy’s place. On my way there, I still hadn’t decided whether I’d break up with him or not. I figured I’d know when I saw him. When I arrived, I couldn’t say anything, it was as if I’d lost my voice. So we watched a movie first, then I sat him down for a talk.
“I would like for us just to be friends,” was my way of breaking it to him. He was devastated. He cried. He begged me to give him another chance. When that didn’t work, he said, “There’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know if it’s going to change anything, but I have to tell you.”
He clasped both my hands in his and looked down, as if he was praying. I suddenly knew what he was going to say, and I didn’t want him to say it. “Don’t say it. Don’t say something you’re going to regret.”
“I’m not going to regret it.”
“It’s not going to change anything.”
“I don’t care. I’ve really fallen for you.” And then there it was, “I love you.” Continue reading →
Up until 7pm on Wednesday, my life was wonderful. And then in a split second, it turned into a nightmare.