picture in my mind

I wonder if I'll ever get to posting this. It's grown to become a great boulder in my mind, and a burden that's getting heavier and heavier, and I just need to let it out -- but obviously, I have major issues hence the incessant procrastination and oh god --

will I do it. should I just do it.

I've been sitting at this table the whole night task-avoiding by myself; gosh I am such a weirdo -- but in some very deep, certain way, I know I should do this, so the better part of me is forcing me to do this, because otherwise I will be stuck here forever. And oh god, haven't I been stuck here forever as it is --

Goodness, you are probably wondering what on earth S is going on about (with the exception of Datin S who knows that I have been actually agonizing about this for days and days, and months in fact, and I was supposed to get it out while winding down in Seremban, Taman Bukit Blossom, but I had such a mind/heart block that I couldn't and now I'm back in SG) and here I am still procrastinating.



My dear sir. Man. Friend. See, I don't even know -- what the.

History keeps repeating itself, and here I am again, doing something I didn't think I would do again. But I honestly just am at a loss, and this place is where I strive to be authentic, and believe it or not, my skirting this thing on my blog is me being inauthentic, so here I am sort of addressing you but really, this is me just trying to be... real? true? authentic? and getting it out.


How many people have I already confused here.




I have been standing at your door. I'm still standing at your door. When we were younger, having determined my unwanted position, I tried to walk away -- that was when that email came out of the blue (recalling my younger self makes me cringe) -- and for a while I thought I succeeded, but before I knew it, I was where I was before. Still at your door. Since then, I don't know, I don't think I have budged. I have tried. You gave me very good reasons, verbally or otherwise. I gave myself very good reasons. But I am still here.

I have now long given up on trying to make sense of this, of myself. I stopped talking to my friends about it because I didn't need them to tell me I was being stupid; I knew it myself. A common refrain I had for myself: S, you are all levels of stupid. But while it used to be spoken typically in anger and anguish, I have learnt to speak it in loving exasperation.

I have decided to trust my heart. For reasons I cannot comprehend, it has remained stubbornly at your door. Fighting it hadn't worked (and why was I fighting, anyway? okay, S, that's another psychoanalysis for another day) so I'm trying to do this follow-the-lead thing that I often do in therapy with the kids. You know how when you trust something and follow its lead, some nice fine day, it takes its turn and acknowledges you instead -- that's what I'm doing. I will trust myself, until some day, a solution presents itself to me.

None of this mentions what you're doing at the other side of the door. I've always known I have no control over that. You could be ignoring me, you could be utterly clueless (which then hopefully means your eyes shall never lay on this blog post to begin with), you could be secretly pleased and reveling in this, you could think I'm the silliest thing that's graced your doorstep. Or... you could be standing and waiting just as I am. Or keeping the door closed for unknown reasons. I honestly don't know. And I have never asked nor demanded to know -- have I?

I just know, rationally, I can't be standing at this door forever. Please, S, don't. Though that's no guarantee that I won't, looking at the history of my stubbornness. I get the sense that this might stress you out; the last thing I want is for you to open a door you don't want opened. If I wanted, I would have banged down the door already. I am fine. I'll just hang out here by your door, until I'm certain of what I need to do. I'm just saying I don't know how long that'll take...

Unless you do want to open the door. In which case I'll be here for a while still, I think. I care too much about what goes on on the other side.



And now I will put a stop to my butchering this door metaphor to death. Enough, S.