(no subject)
The plan was to work on the NUS scholarship application today. The plan failed. I watched two episodes of The Crown until about 2.30pm and fell asleep; the tiredness was due in large part to 1) my sleeping at 1.30am + 2) my waking up at 7.11am for tennis at 8.15am. After I woke up from my nap, it was 3.15pm. I sat in front of the TV with my parents watching some lame Taiwanese variety show until about 4ish. It's now 5.23pm and all I've done is to fill out the requisite forms, which pretty much involved changing the date from my previous application. I am even too lazy to write a new personal statement. This is terrible, isn't it?
Tennis was fun today even though my stomach was bloated and so painful, and I felt heavy and I couldn't really run. SCW kept hitting to my backhand so I had some good practice on that side, but the downside to that is that the forehand side was retarded (literally) and sluggish. Oh well.
I had a really good Friday night. I met Mag and Ven for dinner and drinks at Arab Street. We went to an Italian restaurant whose name I don't remember; I shared some spinach tortellini and gnocchi with mushroom and truffle with Ven, while Mag had the latter and some fried calamari to herself. Haha! Later we adjourned to Maison Ikkoku; Ven wanted to bring us somewhere cool two streets away from the restaurant but it was pouring and Mag and I didn't want to walk in the rain, and no one was sold on Mag's suggestion to call an Uber, and so we went to the nearest bar.
Maison Ikkoku holds memories; G-related memories. It was fine going to the cafe before dinner (where I had an disappointingly average flat white and a yummy but too decadent red velvet cake while reading Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus; the translation is a bit weird) because the cafe is separate from the bar, but I had some hesitations about the bar. It was already a bit trying to walk down that particular street, and Bugis generally. These memories are more than a year old but they are nevertheless vivid, as if permanently burned into my mind's eye.
But Mag said, 'We'll make new memories!' Indeed we did. It was nice hanging out with them and talking about life and men and non-men and whatever. I looked back wistfully a couple of times at the table that G and I occupied more than a year ago ('You are very beautiful,' he told me; 'Why would I date my students when I can date you?'), but other than that, I was focused on the now, on my friends, who care more about me than the fleeting fancy of an ultimately unreliable man.
*
I wonder if I could've done anything differently; and as I wonder this I know that I couldn't have done anything differently because I am who I am; and as I think this I think, too, that it wasn't all up to me, that my actions and histrionics alone did not determine the outcome of this affair, that it takes two to clap and he played a role, too, and he was simply not that into me.
But I am sad to say that it still hurts, losing something so intense, so immense. I haven't felt that strongly and deeply for anyone since. Whatever morsels of feelings that the guys who have been in and out of my life since G managed to dig out of the deadweight in the cavity where my heart is supposed to be are paltry, insignificant, weak, shallow. Sometimes, when I am at my irrational, incoherent worst, it really does feel as if something in me died along with his departure from my life.
*
Mag thinks that I should go out with Matt because of the way that I was apparently talking about him, all giggly and excited. I deny any knowledge of that, but I will say that, hypothetically speaking, I would be more excited to go out with him than any guy on Tinder.
But let's not go there. Let's just not. I know what intrigues me; it's the not-knowing him, it's the back and forth, it's the greyness, it's the imagination and the stories it's capable of. Let's not ruin that, yeah?
*
Bruno has not texted me in about 24 hours; the last communication with him was a quick chat on the phone yesterday at about 5.45pm when I was leaving NUS.
I honestly find this quite annoying. But then I think, why should I care? I am not really that invested, and since I am not that invested, it is quite clear that the thing that I like most right now, really, is the attention.
*
Lastly, I really miss John and Raffie. Yesterday John was telling us in the Facebook group chat about how excited he was, writing his doctrinal chapter; and Raffie the philosopher had a go at him about how boring black letter law is and how philosophy is self-evidently fun. I was talking to Mag and Ven while this exchange took place, and while reading it on the MRT, I laughed out loud to myself.
I almost wish that I could spend New Year's Eve with them. Oh well! It's also good (if not better) that I will be in Taipei with my grandparents.
*
Going clubbing tonight! I'm gonna limit my drinking because I can't take another day of painful bloating in the stomach. But it will still be fun!
Tennis was fun today even though my stomach was bloated and so painful, and I felt heavy and I couldn't really run. SCW kept hitting to my backhand so I had some good practice on that side, but the downside to that is that the forehand side was retarded (literally) and sluggish. Oh well.
I had a really good Friday night. I met Mag and Ven for dinner and drinks at Arab Street. We went to an Italian restaurant whose name I don't remember; I shared some spinach tortellini and gnocchi with mushroom and truffle with Ven, while Mag had the latter and some fried calamari to herself. Haha! Later we adjourned to Maison Ikkoku; Ven wanted to bring us somewhere cool two streets away from the restaurant but it was pouring and Mag and I didn't want to walk in the rain, and no one was sold on Mag's suggestion to call an Uber, and so we went to the nearest bar.
Maison Ikkoku holds memories; G-related memories. It was fine going to the cafe before dinner (where I had an disappointingly average flat white and a yummy but too decadent red velvet cake while reading Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus; the translation is a bit weird) because the cafe is separate from the bar, but I had some hesitations about the bar. It was already a bit trying to walk down that particular street, and Bugis generally. These memories are more than a year old but they are nevertheless vivid, as if permanently burned into my mind's eye.
But Mag said, 'We'll make new memories!' Indeed we did. It was nice hanging out with them and talking about life and men and non-men and whatever. I looked back wistfully a couple of times at the table that G and I occupied more than a year ago ('You are very beautiful,' he told me; 'Why would I date my students when I can date you?'), but other than that, I was focused on the now, on my friends, who care more about me than the fleeting fancy of an ultimately unreliable man.
*
I wonder if I could've done anything differently; and as I wonder this I know that I couldn't have done anything differently because I am who I am; and as I think this I think, too, that it wasn't all up to me, that my actions and histrionics alone did not determine the outcome of this affair, that it takes two to clap and he played a role, too, and he was simply not that into me.
But I am sad to say that it still hurts, losing something so intense, so immense. I haven't felt that strongly and deeply for anyone since. Whatever morsels of feelings that the guys who have been in and out of my life since G managed to dig out of the deadweight in the cavity where my heart is supposed to be are paltry, insignificant, weak, shallow. Sometimes, when I am at my irrational, incoherent worst, it really does feel as if something in me died along with his departure from my life.
*
Mag thinks that I should go out with Matt because of the way that I was apparently talking about him, all giggly and excited. I deny any knowledge of that, but I will say that, hypothetically speaking, I would be more excited to go out with him than any guy on Tinder.
But let's not go there. Let's just not. I know what intrigues me; it's the not-knowing him, it's the back and forth, it's the greyness, it's the imagination and the stories it's capable of. Let's not ruin that, yeah?
*
Bruno has not texted me in about 24 hours; the last communication with him was a quick chat on the phone yesterday at about 5.45pm when I was leaving NUS.
I honestly find this quite annoying. But then I think, why should I care? I am not really that invested, and since I am not that invested, it is quite clear that the thing that I like most right now, really, is the attention.
*
Lastly, I really miss John and Raffie. Yesterday John was telling us in the Facebook group chat about how excited he was, writing his doctrinal chapter; and Raffie the philosopher had a go at him about how boring black letter law is and how philosophy is self-evidently fun. I was talking to Mag and Ven while this exchange took place, and while reading it on the MRT, I laughed out loud to myself.
I almost wish that I could spend New Year's Eve with them. Oh well! It's also good (if not better) that I will be in Taipei with my grandparents.
*
Going clubbing tonight! I'm gonna limit my drinking because I can't take another day of painful bloating in the stomach. But it will still be fun!