No longer in denial.

This past year has been different from the rest. I’ve mellowed out, calmed down on the partying, and have cut down on the drinking. Maybe I’m getting older or wiser, I thought to myself. Nope, that’s not it. Maturing? Coming of age? Not it either. Boring? Hell naw. My god, what could it possibly be?! Oh, right. I’m in a relationship now. I’ve heard some people murmur and talk over this “status” before it but it really materialized when my boyfriend said it so blatantly in my face.

But it’s not so bad, is it? I mean, there was a time in my life where all I wanted to do was party, all I wanted to do was get drunk and make out with boys and bear no responsibility. But I have new priorities now — loving and caring for somebody, the woes of the transition stage of moving out, and planning our future together. Now it’s all about saving up money for a home and a car (and a bike?), budgeting, meal planning, and thinking about my future [in terms of career and how and if I will be able to support myself].

So in the end, it is all a mixture of those aforementioned things: coming of age, becoming boring (I still think this is crazy), and being involved in a committed relationship. And really, I don’t think the “old/single” me would disapprove. I think the “old” me would be proud of who I’ve become.


Things need to change.

Where has the zest in life gone?

It’s time for a long, overdue change. Certain aspects of my life will have to go — on hiatus or permanently. Who knows. All I know is that my life needs a major clean up.

I am afraid that I may need to see a doctor.


Do me just one favour.

Someone pull me out when I start to get too deep, okay? Feels like I’m starting to lose a bit of reality, a bit of myself.

Time for a vacation.


Onto the next step.

So I’ve blogged and blogged and blogged about this little thing called transition. Although I’ve practically lamented on my future and what to make of my Arts degree, I have taken the next step and as of last week, I am officially enrolled at UBC Sauder School of Business in their Real Estate division. Hooray! My textbook should be arriving any day now and once they do, goodbye life for the next 6 months (goal is to finish it by the end of this year)!

Besides the academic aspect of things, I’m also at the point where my current relationship is flourishing and on a constant positive upstream flow. My boyfriend asked me to move in last week. Groundbreaking, earth-shattering. Yet expected. And, I mean, I am practically in Richmond for half of the week, if not more. I don’t think it would make much of a big difference. And for those who know my home situation, in a nutshell, it is not going very well. Guilty of escapism in other situations, I really am curious to try this out but I don’t want to be running away from my problems at home. But I am ready to learn more about him and more importantly, myself and what my tolerances, habits, and breaking points are in a relationship context — or if there is indeed a distinct difference whether you’re in a relationship or not.

Of course, it may seem as if things are going astronomically fast for us considering the short amount of time we’ve been together. Met, clicked, traveled, and possibly moving in within an 8 month period? It’s like the fast forward button. But moving with a capital M seems like the next logical thing to do. And the argument would be, “What’s the rush?” and my answer to that would be, “Why not?”. Again, he’s a different life stage and is probably ready to settle down in the next few years. Me? Well, I’m still exploring, constantly learning about myself, and have an expiry date on all my goals in the next two to three years.

This is a new avenue I am excited and willing to explore. And if it doesn’t work out, or the relationship doesn’t work out, it’s probably best that I know these things now before things get in too deep. If anything, I could always move back home…right?


Am I asking for too much?

I’m a romantic. I live each day with my heart on my sleeve and see through rose-coloured glasses on a daily basis. What can I say? I live for romance. And perhaps it is early in the relationship but I asked for more romance. Gone are the days of trying different restaurants and exploring. Gone is the excitement. I hate to say it but, I’m a little bored. Now, I make him dinner, we walk the dog, and sleep. We’re very comfortable with eachother. It’s now become a routine. Is the honeymoon season over already?

I know he’s busy. We both work a lot running our own businesses, in addition to my full-time job, working out, and maintaining a decent social life. But I miss the romance. Don’t get me wrong — I very much love him, but I just spendingquality time with him. Seems like we’re just spending time together. It’s not a big deal — just a minor bump in the road.

But is this irrational of me? Am I asking for too much?


Not buying it anymore.

My emotions are like an on and off switch. Yesterday was an off day. Today is an off day. Future days will be off days because words provide no backing and don’t mean anything to me. It’s cliche, but actions speak louder than words. Mean what you say? Then prove it.

PS. It’s difficult blogging from an iPhone. It’s like writing a very long text message. Not recommended.


Taking it slow.

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.


Fear of falling in love…

…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.


Too fast?

What exactly does that even mean? What defines being “too fast”? Pure speculation and observation simply is not enough for one to feel or empathize the same way as another. Who is one to say that someone else is going “too fast” in their relationship? Everybody moves at varying paces and I know that I certainly do not care enough at which the pace that others take in their private accords. Perhaps try being happy for that person and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to understand the pure bliss she’s encompassed in.


Still confused…?

I know I want a relationship but perhaps it’s the person who’s throwing me off…? It’s too easy to get caught up and excited when someone new comes around that I sometimes forget to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. The naivete in me. Maybe I still don’t know what/who I’m looking for. Afterall, I’ve had the worst luck with men. Sometimes I tend to get blinded by materialism, status, and power and end up being treated like shit. What about my current muse, you ask? All I know is that this person is filling a void for me right now. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being a little bit selfish at times. Besides, I’m always cursing myself for being too nice, too generous to people. Maybe I’m wanting the relationship more than the actual person. How fucked is that?