A post-mortem.

 Obliging a request from a friend, we watched 500 Days of Summer the other night. Every time I watch that movie I'm always bequeathed with a different interpretation to Summer and Tom's relationship, a reflection of my current stage of life, a reflection of the new experiences I've accrued since the last viewing. This time I feel like I've reached a deeper level on understanding of Summer's actions, why she does what she does, says what she says, when before she was the conundrum, and I identified more with Tom's plate-breaking trance.

Summer: I just... I just woke up one day and I knew.
Tom: Knew what?
Summer: ...What I was never sure of with you.

 I've started to think of him a lot more often now. But I know I don't miss the relationship, rather the intimacy of it. It was really nice having him as a pillar of strength and consistency where other anchors of my life -  work, school, job interviews, moving apartments, friends, - threaten to pull me down to the seabed and drown me, constantly elbowing each other for my attention. The problem was when he wanted a significant slice of my attention, and in trying to reshuffle my priorities I sadly realized I couldn't give him what he deserved.

 So the last day of my work ended up marking the last day of our relationship. We parted amicably, both agreeing that we tried our darndest to make it work, but there were 'irreconcilable differences'. I've always felt he loved me more than I loved him, and so I was unsure of the authenticity of his accord, but when he left I felt pardoned, the remaining slices of pie became fatter and everything was more manageable again.

 I thus began the road of self-rediscovery, filling my days with activities (funnily enough not with people this time - I've become quite the content hermit), redesigning my lifestyle - buying a road bike, taking up jazz dance, looking up design opportunities, feeding the homeless, growing an herb garden, making my own meals, redefining my diet - wild instead of white rice, almond and flax instead of cow's milk. It used to be an alternating cycle of getting tired of dealing/arguing with him, followed by putting on my rose-tinted glasses during alone-time and letting my heart soften again as I start to miss him the intimacy. Rinse, wash, repeat. I checked out his facebook profile out of curiousity last night, and the moment I saw his picture familiar memories came rushing back into my head like a giant wave and I notice my vista had pink edges to it (damnit). I remember Boston, scratching his car, his anger manegement issues, his viewpoint on friends, his viewpoint on acts of kindness, his pessimism, self-deprecation, traditional Asian-mindset, and inability to come up with any alternative to the brute-force method (and getting angry) when it comes to solving problems. And of course, the fact that EVERYTHING is a problem.

 Then I discover the fortress I've imprisoned my emotions in has been quietly crumbling at its turrets, and that I've been holding my breath these past few weeks, putting on a brave front, but then getting into fights with people and subsequently purging them from my life. Some deserved it, but of course there are always grey areas. I've also developed a severe intolerance to vision-without-execution, individuals that tell you they are 'going to make it happen' but do not lift a finger (or spare a thought) to do anything to 'make it happen', except for constantly reminding you that they are, indeed, 'going to make it happen'. I know the type because I am prone to that as well, except that I keep myself in check. If I really want it, I will do whatever it takes, whatever means necessary to carry out my vision. And I will keep quiet about it until I have something significant to share. Call me bitter/pessimistic/pitiful, but at this moment it bugs the shit out of me and I've definitely been lashing out as I see fit.

 Ironically, I'm less in control of my temper and more pessimistic - and it's unsettling me.