I’m not the closest with my family whether it is with my brother, sister, parents, grandparents, whatever. We’ve just never been close. I think it’s an Asian thing. But when in times of need, I know they are there. It’s something that doesn’t need to be said; it’s something that doesn’t necessarily need to be shown either. They’re just there. That’s what real family is to me.
My grandmother had a stroke this weekend. It was one of the most stressful times I’ve had in a very short amount of time. I had never experienced anything like it before. None of my family members or people close to me have passed away. Even my grandfather that passed away a few years ago didn’t affect me as much as this scare. The thought of death scared me. It’s a legitimate fear, no? This past weekend just reminded me to not take things for granted. To remember to talk to those whom you love, to ask questions, and to share things that mean a lot to you with them. Because before you know it, they may be gone forever.
…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.