Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Totally blue night

I am suddenly assailed with a feeling of intense loneliness… nothing compares to this. The thought of having to live my life with no companionship, no love, no warmth, terrifies me. Just the cold dark empty nights, sitting alone by myself. No one to shar the days trials and madness. No one to unburden unfounded fears to. No one to cuddle to on a rainy chilly night.

Suddenly I have a crazy thought of how nice if I had a companion who can translate Mandarin to English better than I do. Certainly would ease my mind a whole lot easier now.

But how selfish…

No, I want a companion for me. Even if the fellow were an Indian or foreign, I would like to have someone to touch now and feel complete and unalone.

I realise this morning how cold and unfeeling I’ve become. I used to ignore the handicapped and beggars at the SS2 market. I saw one again this morning as I’d dropped by to buy fruits. I ignored him on the way in. But as I came back out, he was still ther and two aunties were giving him some money.

I don’t know what made me relent and bend to give him a dollar. I used to think that I can’t help them. There were too many. I also needed charity. But at that split moment, I decided to open my purse and give him some money.

I don’t want to think that it’s because some aunties were more charitable than me. I don’t want to think that I was a cruel cold hearted bitch who should be charitable. I don’t want to think that I realised I was selfish for so long. I don’t want to analyse too deeply.

I’m afraid to discover the real me – ugly, cold, and selfish.

Perhaps it’s the rainy season making me blue.

I am a pathetic being who pretends to be content with what I have. I wear a fake smile and all think that I am a sun-born child when I am not. I talk about my obligations to my family in self-deprecating terms and everyone thinks I am so dedicated to family. But I am not really. I am fake. Yet I cannot shake off this unconscious façade because otherwise all others would see is an indifferent persona who merely sees her family as a thing to bear with. Like having the sun to warm but there are alternatives such as an electrical heater or woollen garments. It is simply a thing to live with yet possible to live without.

And I’m terrified of this feeling because it is the precise same kind of feelings, or lack of , that I had experienced when my father had the operation.

I don’t think anyone will understand it. I don’t myself. And I don’t thin I can ever share this feeling, for fear of being rejected by those I love. It is something I have to figure out on my own. Or see a psychiatrist. Perhaps he or she will have an excellent explanation for why I felt this way.

I imagine it would take me a week to relate the events that precipitated to this end product of my emotions towards my family.

But I know the problem I’m having tonight is because I’m lonely… terribly lonely.