Besides October (my birthday and Halloween), May is definitely by far my most favourite month of the year. The flowers are in full bloom, the sun is starting to shine on a more regular basis, and thirdly, it’s spot prawn season. But other than that, there always seems to be lots of things going on in May that it gives off the feel good summertime vibe. Last year, I only had Vegas but this year, every weekend is booked. I can hardly believe that it’s already the middle of May!
To start the month off, I went to my very first Indian wedding! When I was in Seattle this past March, I ran into my ex who was there for the bachelor party, and ended up with an invite to my ex’s friend’s wedding (whom I am also friends with; I wasn’t a complete random there). It was pretty fun, although I don’t believe it was an accurate representation of other Indian weddings. We were just there for the reception but all in all, it was a lot of fun! Free food, free booze — can’t really go wrong with that.
Other than that, it’s been a while since I saw a musical so when I was offered a crazy deal for tickets to see Rock of Ages, I jumped at the opportunity. I honestly didn’t really know what this musical was about except for the fact that it was a hit on Broadway and it featured music from the late 1980s. What a surprise. It was a great performance. Taking place at the Centre for Performing Arts, I was a bit skeptical because I am aware of how small the theatre is (I’ve also seen Chicago and Avenue Q there but they made it work). It wasn’t an issue and honestly, I was very impressed with almost everything. I wasn’t exactly impressed with the vocals of Drew whom I think was being played by his understudy at the matinee show I saw yesterday as it didn’t seem to be strong enough/keep up with the rest of his colleagues. And I think “The Final Countdown” should have been the closing song for Act I and the opening should have been “Any Way you Want it/I Wanna Rock”. Oh well. It was still a stellar performance and I honestly think my boyfriend enjoyed it more than I did, ironically. Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin” was the perfect song to close the show. Rock on!
Following the show, I went to Vancouver International Tequila Expo at the Vancouver Convention Centre. My god, I have never seen so many tomato-faced white people in my entire life. Is this what the Vancouver Playhouse Wine Festival is like? Dear lord. So many trainwrecks in there. Besides that, I got to try some premium tequila and discover a new appreciation for the drink (I’m still not a fan – still, for the most part, tastes like shit to me). Again, I think my boyfriend benefitted a whole lot more than I did at this event. Afterall, I did buy the tickets for him since he’s a huge tequila lover and collector. I am such a good girlfriend.
Lastly, this has been such a magical month thus far. I’ve been thinking a lot lately and going back and forth on some things and have done a ton of waiting around, but I am happy to say that I am most definitely in love. And I love the feeling. And I love how it makes me feel. I love how he makes me feel. I love my boyfriend. I love love.
May is a wonderful month. Nice things happen.
When is the right time? Timing, to me, is everything. And as a romantic, I am definitely waiting for the right moment.
There are so many factors to consider or in my opinion, normalized “rules” in the love game: length of the relationship, different stages of love, and who should say it first. I really think a lot of this is bullshit and totally fabricated. Love shouldn’t be defined by these so-called boundaries, they should be guided by private, inherent feelings that are shared between two people.
I’ve expressed my concern, or more like gathering opinion from others, and it really is interesting to hear others’ perspective. I mean, afterall, their words don’t really matter to me. But really, it is all very curious. From the people I’ve talked to, ~four months seems to be the most average time to say it…although I think this varies between relationships. Second of all, there are different stages in love which are intertwined with age and maturity of the persons involved. I kind of agree with this. As I’ve said before, I was at a different stage when I was with my high school ex-boyfriend and my current more “senior” boyfriend is certainly at an age where he’s probably thinking of marriage so there are considerably different stages when it comes to love. I agree with this. But does it really matter who says it first? Last time I checked, love wasn’t or isn’t a race. (But for the record, he said it first and I withheld for good reason — everything needs to be just perfect).
I love you. They are three words that holds an enormous amount of meaning to it and it is a phrase that I do not throw around lightly. I love you. It’s coming, I can sense it. This month. I think so. Pretty sure. Yep.
Trying to reacquaint myself with my favourite four letter word — love — and I’m embracing and welcoming it with open arms. I’m glad that someone has the power and ability to not just make me feel a certain way, but has enabled me to actually see it…and hopefully, experience it once again.
I’ve only been in love once. And at that time, I was at a very difference stage in my life. I was still lodged inbetween an awkward transition — similar to my current state and how I am now — but it was different back then. I was in highschool and I was dating this guy whom I really fancied. We were very fond of eachother. Met eachother through a mutual friend and although there were a couple of girls after him, I was able to snag him in the end. After seeing eachother for a couple of months, we were finally “official” and I was soon falling head over heels. On our four month anniversary (remember when we used to keep count and celebrate monthly anniversaries?!), we finally said “I love you” to eachother. It was one of the best feelings ever, to have someone confess their love to you…and for you to feel exactly the same. Oh, how long ago that seemed!
But as our relationship grew, it had its ups and downs…moreso, on the downs as we obviously aren’t together anymore. We didn’t end on a particularly good note and I was heartbroken, desperate, and lonely for a good year and a half. My first love. Who was this guy and how come he was able to make me feel so strongly, in both a loving matter and, in the end, resentment?
That was four years ago. Ironically, four years and two weeks today would have been our sixth anniversary. But I’m glad those days are over. Everything happens for a reason and we definitely were not meant to be together. I was a completely different and naive person back then compared to the person I have become today. Nowadays, I am well-protected — my heart isn’t given away so easily anymore. I’m smarter, prettier, and talented. And I cook and bake better than your mama.
Sure, I’ve dated a fair share of questionable men, but I’m glad I held it out and waited for that special someone. And I’ve never been happier. I am sure not to screw this one up — if anything, it’ll be him. Let’s hope that won’t happen.
…may be translated into “fear of getting hurt”. This sums up how I feel perfectly. I had a long chat with a couple of my girlfriends lastnight and revealed my current insecurity to them — pretty much the title of this blog post.
I’m in a relationship. It’s new, it’s exciting, it’s an overall great feeling. But for some reason (and although I am still early preliminary stages of the relationship), I still can’t seem to let myself fall completely. It’s because I’ve learned from my past experiences, namely my ex-boyfriend. Since I’ve been writing in my physical diary more often lately, I actually came across and started to re-read some of my older diary entries from some four years ago and the aftermath of my failed first serious relationship and honestly, it really scared me. That painful time seemed like eons ago. But re-reading those past entries (and this is why I keep a journal in the first place), made those feelings come alive again, just like opening an old wound. To demonstrate, here is an excerpt from an entry dated, May 4, 2008 — just two days shy of what would’ve been my third anniversary with Matt:
“I wrote the date on this entry but I have absolutely nothing to write about. School starts on Tuesday.. Fuck man, so much on my mind. I’m actually kind of glad that school is starting up again so I won’t have to deal with these extra thoughts and emotions. I keep parading around about how independent I am and how I don’t need anyone but I don’t know… It’s times like these where I just feel so fucking alone. I see couples all the time like it’s mating season or something. And it just makes me think about the situation I’m in. Single and alone. […] And I’m always hoping everyday that Matt will pick up the phone and call me. But when and if he calls me, I’d be the “strong” one and ignore it and pretend like I don’t care. That’s how I make myself appear “strong”. Oh well. Atleast I admitted it. […] I’m just wondering how much longer it will be for me to stop feeling like this…and if we’ll ever be friends again. I don’t want this miserable feeling in the back of my head anymore. I want out. Holy damn, it feels so good to cry.”
Wow. How powerful was that? And to believe that was me just a mere four years ago… I can definitely still relate to some aspects of it. How I’m scared to let go. How I hate it when things end. How I dread it when things end! Perhaps this whole fear of being alone and getting hurt and love itself is just a product of my parents’ divorce. I see it as something as preventable…and how desperately I do not want to end up like my parents. In the end, I just want to protect myself.
But my good friend K-Rae told me something really important that stood out to me (and practically in all of the conversations we’ve had over our three years and counting friendship) — that we are young and we make mistakes. Even if relationships end horribly, the memories are rarely regretted and the amount of growth that can be witnessed and experienced and can be brought out by that person is something that is unforeseeable until you let yourself go. Of course, I won’t foolishly fall head over heels just yet. I think there’s a way to be smart about this. And even though my old entries initially scared me, I can’t forget how much I loved being in love. This time around, I’m older, wiser, and more secure with myself. I know what I want (atleast for my 22-year old self) and I want to go slow. And being the most impatient person ever, me wanting to take it slow is definitely a step in the right direction that will hopefully and eventually lead me to my favourite four-letter word.