Closure

I suppose i finally got some answers. Some i already knew, some, i had chosen to ignore.

In the 5 months since i broke up with F, i never got over the feeling of guilt. Sure, i was euphorically in love, but there was a part of me that was also in pain. ZW warned me that the guilt could overwhelm our relationship and i swore it wouldn't. And i suppressed it.

But in the past week, those feelings bubbled up and in a fit of despair, i emailed Fadz. A long, blabbering email that was part apology, part therapy, and part plea for answers.

That's how i found out that he reads my blog. Ironically, when we were together, he never cared to read my blog or find out what i was thinking. But when we were apart, he became a blog stalker.

Anyway, he texted me to "stop being on edge".. And i was like fuck it, i'm calling him.

We talked for over an hour - almost like catching up with an old friend.

He told me he wasn't mad, that he got over being bitter, that yes, our relationship had run its course. And he had moved on (and i do mean, moved on).

For the first time in a long while, i found myself listening more than talking. F said he had been meaning to contact me, to tell me he's ok. But he never did.

(on a side note: thanks ah! For letting me go on being a martyr and hating on myself! But i guess although you didn't hate me, it didn't mean you had to make it easy either.)

We both agreed that the spark had died out a long time ago, and we were blindly chasing after something. Our ideal something.

He said i loved him more than he loved me (ohh, that one hurt), and he simply couldn't match up to what i wanted and needed.

His words felt like pricks into this wall of strength i had developed, but also filled a lot of gaps.

I guess i did try to mould him into what i wanted. In the beginning, perhaps he was willing to go along, being his first love. But as he gained confidence in himself, i became a shackle.

Meanwhile, i felt him distancing and instead of growing a backbone, i hang on. I guess it was inevitable he would fall for someone else.

At that point, i think it hurt so much not because i loved him so much (sure, there was that), but because he had become such a constant in my life and i couldn't deal with the upheaval.

We got back together eventually, which may or may not have been the right thing to do. I mean, everytime something goes wrong, he throws up a wall. I batter away at it and sometimes it works and things become good again. But it's always a stop gap solution.

So when we got back together, We both pledged that we'd try. Try to be what the other needed and wanted. As if we could really change.

What idiots we were. People don't change.

And we did accomplish that to a certain degree. We chose to tip toe around each other. Ignoring differences. You know, i don't think we fought in our last 3 years together. Not because we finally understood each other, but because we stopped caring about progressing the relationship and just wanted peace.

With my trust broken, i think i took a piece of my heart and locked it up. As if i was expecting to be hurt again, i took that piece of me and kept it safe. F couldn't hurt me again; but at the same time, i could never be so dedicated and let him in completely again.

And our relationship stopped being a thing of joy and support. We were perhaps happy, and comfortable.

Like wearing my favourite shoes. It's slightly dirty, perhaps a bit stinky, but it's comfortable and familiar.

And then ZW came along. And ignited that part of me which had laid dormant. The me who needed romance, and words and gestures. The me who needed someone unafraid to declare his feelings, both good and bad. The me who preferred to talk (shout) things out instead of keeping mum and letting ill feelings fester. The me who needed someone who recognised that for all my tough talking, i really was a bundle of insecurities who just wanted to be cuddled. Not condescended towards, cuddled.

Maybe that's why it was so easy to walk out on an 8-year relationship. People didn't understand, but i knew i was ready.

And by his own admission, so did F. He said he didn't blame me, nor was he entirely surprised.

Yes he was bitter, but i do believe that stems from being dumped, rather than losing me. And i say this factually.

Because in all honesty, this was bound to happen. And sorry, but based on track records, it could just have easily been him. I simply beat him to it.

And that's also why he healed rather quickly. Because there wasn't much to heal from. As he described it, ours had become a tainted love. And i do think he enjoyed occasionally hurting me, and me him, because it really was twisted. Or rather, we wanted to feel something other than restraints.

So yes, it did hurt hearing the bald truth, but it was the last piece of the puzzle that had to be resolved. The 17-year-old joanne had to recognise that the 17-year-old fadzli that she loved and adored was no more. That we had grown up and that unshakable faith that everything was going to work out... Well.. I guess not.

I was afraid to let go of that last piece because it truly, and irrevocably, meant the end.

At least we walk away with hopefully some wisdom. He, that it's dangerous and destructive to build walls. Me, that i am actually needy and i need to love a person for who he is, and not what i want. And trust once broken, is impossible to restore. And to have fucking backbone.

So to my dearest darling Zhaowei, thank you. Thank you for being who you are. Yes, you are not perfect (come on, you have to admit it! Haha), but you make me happy, and i think i make you happy too. And not just the wow-that's-a-cute-balloon happy, but the knees weak, hearting pounding kinda happy.

I love you and you're my Zeus. ;) (inside joke)