When she brings up my father, she always wins. There's no way I can argue back. The regret just pinches me.
She knows. She knows well, now that I told her; each time she brings up my father, she wins. Because everything that she relates to my father only goes to show why he died. Too much handphone usage. Poor diet. Pressure from mother. And on and on. Everything. Everything he did made him die. And she took care of him, all the way, until he died.
Now, history repeats itself. Too much handphone usage. Poor diet. Pressure from mother. Fine, I'll probably die a horrible death too, bleeding internally, intestines rupturing, blood vessels ripping, brain bursting, eyeballs popping, tongue hanging, hand mutilated, feet hacked off, throat slit, chest stabbed. And she has to remind me about him every time.
I told her I've a special someone whom I like, and who loves me equally. The next moment she blows her top. And lots and lots of very stern advice comes in. Soon, it prompts my thoughts and reflection, inner reflection, which I don't want to tell my mom.
I asked that special someone, why she liked me. Here's her response.
"because you have a sense of humour that i like... i know i sometimes say you're being lame, but i don't mean it in a bad way. i like it. its as warped as my own. because you're sweet... every time we talk.. every time i look at you i feel so lucky. and when i look at you i see a man of integrity and determination. like you're a role model somehow."
At these words, I tear. Tears, not of elation or joy, that I'm being put up so high in the sky, that I'm such a great person. Tears, because the words she uses describes the exact opposite of the real me. Have I really put up such a facade? I don't know what to tell her. It's not that I want to break up, and it's definitely not because I've found a new person whom I like. It's just, I look at myself, and I see a bastard, an idiot, a... clown, who wears the red, painted smile on the outside, but may well be hiding a sad history behind himself. It's a facade, or is it? I don't even know my true self.
Maintaining the facade is so tiresome. Oh, and now she asks, "Why did you ask?"
I still haven't told her why I asked. In reality, I want to bring up one result of my reflection: that I find the relationship very one-sided. Not in the terms of me chasing her and she not reciprocating.
Let's put it this way. From my point of view, in any relationship, there's the emotional and practical side to it. The emotional side, as well all know, can well be strained by the practical side of it, but then again, the emotional side can well enhance any practical aspects of the relationship. Between me and her, I find the physical (i.e. practical) aspect straining me out, emotionally. She wants to be with me. As much as possible. Because we'll eventually be separated. But I just told her being together 24/7 will only serve to be a mental hallucinogen, amplifying the pain further later in the future when, eventually, due to our education, we have to separate. It won't work, and it won't be healthy to continue like that.
Oh crap, she has a test tomorrow. And I told her all that. I wonder if she'll be okay...
Well she told me she'll be fine. I finally feel unloaded, telling her all that I did (and NO, I will NOT reveal the full content here). I hope I did the right thing.