ZEN Bitchin'

Thank You for Hearing Me – Sinead O’Connor

It has been more than 14 months since the dissolution of my last relationship. Please don’t think that I’m counting the days. I’m not. I just happen to think about it because (of my prodigious memory?) in the last few days it has been the subject of my conversation with friends.

When I caught up with A, my Singaporean friend in Kuala Lumpur, we talked about our relationships (his, and my non-existent one). He’d known about what happened between K and I through my blog but of course he’d want to hear it straight from the bitch’s mouth–so to speak. Besides, there are (juicy) details that I didn’t include in the blog, as it is my common practice, especially when I write about certain things about my life. So there I was, over our dinner of Nasi Lemak and Nasi Bojari, talking about the end of my affair with K, juicy (and sordid) details included. This subject was taken up to when we were having desserts at MOF.

When I got back to Phnom Penh, the same thing happened. Once, after a couple of hours of ukay shopping, V and I found ourselves at home, sitting idly by the porch, simmering in the balmy heat of the afternoon. I do not exactly remember what we were talking about, until the subject shifted to relationships. I am sure that if V wasn’t a chef by profession, he would’ve been a great counselor, or therapist. He has a non-antagonistic way of asking questions that one (meaning I) feels very comfortable to answer him. So there I was again, over glasses of iced water, talking about my break-ups (yes, it happened twice) with K.

One is tempted to ask, do you not get tired of talking about this?

I am, in fact, tired of talking about my relationship with K. Not because I’m still hurting. Talking about him doesn’t cause tears to well up in my eyes or make my heart clench with pain. It does, however, raises my hackles. Probably because I am still a bit mad. At him? Possibly. Consider this exchange, which happened this year:

February 11 – I receive an email from K; it is addressed to his Board of Directors, and it is about an update on his NGO’s recruitment of new board members. As a former volunteer advisor of his NGO, I do not see anything unusual with me receiving this email. Maybe I’m still part of K’s work-related mailing list. Not having anything to say, I ignore this email.

February 13 – I receive another email from K; this time announcing the recruitment of the new board of directors for his NGO, including the nomination process and other details. At the end of the email, a short statement: ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’

Acting on impulse, I write this reply: ‘I think you sent this to me by mistake.’

February 14 – This response comes: ‘I’m sorry if you think I sent this to the wrong address. I sent it to everyone I know, even used to know. The greeting wasn’t a mistake, though.’

With alacrity, I type this message: ‘Please remove my email address from your address book, so that this mistake doesn’t happen again. STOP BOTHERING ME. And please do not respond to this email anymore.’

So far, he has been compliant to my request. The few people who knew of this little incident thought that my actions were a tad harsh. However, I will stand by my actions. If they knew K the way I know him, if they knew everything that happened between us, they will understand. That was not me being bitter, angry, and vindictive. That was me choosing to protect myself.

I realize that I have only started dating other people a few weeks ago, well over a year after my break-up. But this was not because my heart was crushed into a million tiny pieces that I am unable to love anybody else. This is because many other things happened to me last year: I got sick, had surgery, moved to a new flat twice, almost moved to a new country, revitalized my consulting work, etc. Entering into a new relationship was not a priority.

How about now then?

A good question. I would say that it’s still not a priority, but I will not turn away from it if the opportunity comes. Something about the person I am dating now fills me with a certain kind of dread, simply because dating someone like him is something I’d never done before. I have hope, though. It’s been said that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. So there.