They say the truth will set you free.......

When I was young I knew everything
and she a punk who rarely ever took advice
now i'm guilt stricken, sobbing with my head on the floor
stop a baby's breath and a shoe full of rice

I can't be held responsible
cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place

For the life of me I cannot remember
what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
for the life of me I cannot believe we'd ever die for these sins
we were merely freshmen

My best friend took a week's vacation to forget her
his girl took a week's worth of valium and slept
now he's guilt stricken sobbing with his head on the floor
thinks about her now and how he never really wept he says

We've tried to wash our hands of all of this
we never talk of our lacking relationships
and how we're guilt stricken sobbing with our heads on the floor
we fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say

I can't be held responsible
cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place

The Verve - Freshmen

*****************************

Have you ever done things in your life you can't even bring yourself to talk about?

I have.

I have done things in my life that I continue to be too ashamed to think, talk or even write about. They remain so closely guarded deep within the recesses of my heart, hidden from everyone around me. I don't know why I do this... keeping secrets to myself.

A deep sense of shame and guilt prevents me from opening up to anyone because I think I'm confused. I have never permitted myself to think about it or talk to anyone, because I'm not quite sure what to say or think. Part of me feels like I have been able to move on... to break free from the mistakes I have made and get on with life.... Mistakes are mistakes... you aren't supposed to go about your life carrying a permanent guilt on your shoulders right? I have then been trying to make up for it, I have.... But the other part of me feels guilty about it... about actually being ABLE to move on after doing something like that. At some level, it feels like I'm still trying to punish myself. I don't feel miserable about it anymore.... but feel like I should. One half of me is ready to move on, the other feels like I haven't atoned for my sins. Do you understand how that is? I SHOULD feel guilty, I SHOULD feel miserable, I SHOULD be stuck in a deep dark hole, not moving on bashing myself up and thinking the worse about myself...... because it might ease my sense of guilt if I was still mourning.

I know it's something I need to talk about. I know one day, I need to find someone I can put in front of me, and allow me to talk, not write, not blog.... but talk.. physically let it out...... to openly let out the guilt and shame I feel inside, the feelings and emotions I went through, sitting in the dark in the middle of the night, wondering how I every got myself in such a mess.. hating myself for being so stupid for allowing this to happen, and mostly, for being a coward. Yes, a coward. I needed a kind ear to listen, a shoulder to cry.. but mostly, someone to hug and tell me that it's ok.. and that everything will turn out fine.

But there was no one.. No one I could talk to, no one I trusted, and no one I thought will not judge... the incident was still too new anyway, and the feelings too raw, for me to be able to do talk about without breaking down. And so, I managed without.... hiding this need from my own self.

It has been so many years now.. I think I now need closure.

It's amazing that after so many years, I still haven't found someone to talk to about it. Countless times, I have stared in front of the blank screen, contemplating letting it all out, and writing about it in my blog.. confessing. But I couldn't even bring myself to write about it. Countless times, I have sat in front of friends, having the most intimate of conversations, the words just at the tip of my tongue, yet they never came out. The fear of what they think of me after is too much to take. Then I think it's better to just talk to strangers, to people who hardly know you.. then there'd be no judgment, no repercussions. But strangers hardly care, what more understand. You don't pluck a stranger out of the streets and start blurting out your life story.

They say the truth will set you free.......

I feel caged... caged by my own unwillingness to share, caged by my unwillingness to be vulnerable to others, caged by my own unwillingness to admit the things I have done.

And that is why, this song speaks more to me that you will know.

When the past comes knocking on your door

And there he was again.

Like a ghost from the past, reappearing before your eyes, there he stood. A hint of the strong proud man he formerly was still showing in his stout figure and deep gazing eyes. But he is broken; old, battered and broken. He walks with a limp, he no longer has any teeth, and he isn’t as agile he perhaps once was. Still, I see he tries carrying himself with dignity. I can understand that. I can respect that.

But for what he is asking for, he forsakes his dignity, lowers his pride. Almost a year since we last saw this old man… father to the woman I am to marry. He came, with no money, no job, no savings, no home, nothing but a small bag of cloths ad possessions. Calling through the window.. knocking on the door... calling out the names of his children. It was no different this time. He needs a place to stay, and he knows nowhere else to turn to.

The children are pissed off. Understandable. I would be pissed off too if my father disappeared for a year and only reappeared suddenly and abruptly, asking for a place to stay. The same man that allowed his 12 year old daughter to be beaten and abused by his mistress and did nothing, the same man who abandoned his 8 year old son in the middle of downtown KL, at the mercy of strangers and God knows what else. The same man who was now asking for food and shelter.

The four of us just sit there in the living room. Despite the anger, I know they are at a lost. They don’t know how to react, or what to do. There is pity in their eyes. And despite all that he has done, despite him totally being totally undeserving, he is still their father. I know in their good conscience they will not forsake their father, even if he did it to them. Blood is thicker than water. They both look at me, trying to gauge my position, trying to see what I have to say, or if I will allow this.

“How dear? Can we let him stay?” she asks me.

I am somewhat perplexed. I had not expected to suddenly have a say, what more the FINAL say in the matter. But the two of them look to me, as if waiting for my agreement. This was my future father in law we’re talking about here. What was I to do, say no? I mustered a small OK… and that was that, he was staying. How long, I have no idea… But I told her, let’s just take it one day at a time. Feed him, cloth him, and let him get some rest first. We’ll figure out the rest as the days go.

I used to be the type, constantly worrying, constantly fretting when a solution is not in sight. Perhaps I’ve mellowed down a bit, or maybe I’ve learnt my lessons through past experiences.. or could it be that at some level, I trust God will present us a solution when it is time. Maybe it’s all three. But my world no longer feels like its crashing in anymore every time a problem comes along and I don’t immediately have a solution.

He is unsure how to behave around me. His hesitating manner when talking to me tells me that. He’s uneasy giving eye contact to me. Rather, he glances sideways at me. He’s probably uncomfortable with my presence; this foreign and unfamiliar man that now seems to have a say in the decisions his children make pertaining to him. Who is this young man? Why do my daughter and son ask HIS opinion? I’M the father, I’M the head of the house. Why is HE in charge? Why does HE have a say? I wonder if he was thinking these things.

But he’s not the only unsure one.

I’ve met this man no less than 3~4 times in the almost 8 years of being in this relationship. I’ve solidified my position in their family, her mother, her aunts, her cousins, her uncles… everyone that mattered.. everyone except him, the father. The person I rightfully should have won approval from FIRST. But he had absconded from his duties and responsibilities as father long ago, before I ever came into the picture. And with that, he also forfeited his rights and privileges as a father. I won the hand of his daughter, without ever asking his approval because he was never there. And now here he was again. What do I even do? Do I start over and ask him for his blessings to our relationship?

I put on my shoes and rush off to work. I'm already late. There was a lot to think about. So this was the latest little episode of my life. I now had another parent to figure out what to do with. I was starting to wonder about how everything seemed a bit too smooth sailing these couple of months. It was just a matter of time before SOMETHING happened. It's the story of my life..... something always happens. How long will he stay? Does he have a place to go? Do we give him a deadline before leaving? Should we ask him to live with us from now on? Or do we find him another place to stay?

Questions... questions... questions...

No answers.

Relatives on Facebook

I was contemplating writing this post for a while now but decided against it...

But I think it's gotten to a point where I don't think I can ignore it anymore. First it was my cousin, then it was my uncle.. the ANOTHER cousin... before you know it.. half my kampung would have been on the list.

DO YOU ADD YOUR RELATIVES ON FACEBOOK?

I don't know about you... but relatives have always been a group of people I have kept at a comfortable distance. Not too distant to come across as being aloof and stuck up, but not close enough for them to start nosing into your day to day activities.

In these few years of Facebook-ing, my list of contacts have primarily been confined to friends, colleague mates, school friends and such. No family, no relatives. I mean.. these people belonging in a different circle. The 'family' circle. Facebook to has always been more of a wider 'social' circle.... The ones close to you don't NEED to add you on Facebook.. they talk to you on the phone.. they meet you face to face. It's a place I have so far used to keep in touch with friends and share pictures with people.

The thing about my relatives are... I don't really want them seeing ANY of my person stuff.. ESPECIALLY where I go for holiday, who I mix with, what I comment to other people, the kind of friend I make.. Maybe I'm going overboard here... but the world 'relatives' is almost like a bad word to me. It's not that I don't like them, it's just that seeing them once a year during Chinese New Year is more than enough. Relatives tend to be nosy... and busy body.. and make stupid and thoughtless remarks about the situation of others without bothering to know the whole story.. Relatives (or least my relative) have always been quick to criticize.. but slow to help. In my life, I've been help more by strangers and friends than my own relatives.

Maybe its sour grapes on my part.. but I made my decision years and years ago.... friendly distance.. friendly distance.

And now... every other cousin and uncle is adding me on Facebook.. What am I supposed to do? Oh hell.. I can't really ignore or refuse to add them. Knowing them, word will get around faster than you could spell 'click' that I refused to add my relatives on Facebook.

Damn... I feel like my privacy is being invaded.

Oh well.. at least I still have my blogs.. . If THAT gets compromised... I'll have to resort to scribbling notes under my bed.

Of Beggars & Pasar Malam

Every single day as I turn the last corner into my apartment, see this man.

His hair gray as ash, his skin a deep dark chocolate. He walks on a stick. Its a busy street. But somehow, he manages to cross the entire 4 lanes of road every single day and just stand there... by the road, right at the traffic light. Every time a car stops for the red light, he looks their way. He reaches his hand out.

He's a beggar.

Sometimes, people wind down their windows and hand his some cash. He moves closer to take the money quickly.. before the light turns green. Even if it's charity, people aren't ready to wait 2 seconds once the light goes green. Even if it's charity, they do it when it's convenient for them. Even if it's charity, they do it at their own terms. That's the city for you.

I've never given a single cent to this man. Neither does he bother looking my way when I stop at the red light. I take this junction on a daily basis. He probably recognizes my car.. and my face. He knows I'm not one of them giving type. On some days, I do feel sorry for him. I am tempted to reach into my wallet and hand him a ten ringgit note. A poor old man, no job, no income. Can't walk without the help of a stick. He swallows his pride, reaches his hand out... and begs for money... and I feel like no person should ever have to subject themselves to such indignity. Someone help this poor man. Other days, I look at him in disdain. The cynical side of me takes over. With two able hands, and an able body, why are you taking the easy way out begging? Is that walking stick even genuine? If you can stand under the hot sun for hours on end every single day... If you can brave crossing the big main road every single day.. the you can certainly get a job. Why do you leech off the kindness and pity of passers-by?

This beggar. Where does he live, what does he do? Why does he beg? Questions, questions, questions... Most people I know aren't bothered about these questions when it comes to beggars. They walk by, the see a man in need, they feel pity and sympathy, and they give. End of story. They've done their little part in helping others. Never mind if they aren't genuine, never mind if they're part of a syndicate, never mind if they make more money just reaching their hand out begging that an honest labourer slogging it out.

I can count with my fingers the number of times I have given to beggars. Don't get me wrong... I'm not heartless. I feel for them.. I really do. It pains me to see them, especially the ones that get mutilated and dumped at Pasar Malams to beg.......Not this old uncle who is obviously begging on his own accord. Some have their hands or legs cut off, others have they tongue cut out and I've seen some with deformities so bad I don't even dare look at them straight.. in fear of offending them by staring. I can't bear the sight of them.. and I usually look away. Part of me feels so sorry for these people.. can you imagine being kidnapped and mutilated and sent to a foreign country to beg?... Part of me feels angry.. at the people who did it to them... these son of a bi*ch criminals who think nothing of taking away the dignity of others, ruining peoples lives and mutilating them, just so they can fill their pockets with a few extra dollars.

It really amazes me how desensitized we as a society can become in the face of such a sight. Hundreds and hundreds of people frequent these pasar malam's every single night.. They come with their family, they come with their boyfriends... they buy they fish sticks and drinks... hackle and bargain with the traders... and just 5 feet away, sits this deformed and mutilated beggar in the MIDDLE of the street, crawling, bowing their head and begging for money. What do we do? Nothing. We just walk by. The girls will cringe, the men will have stoned faces... but we do nothing. We quicken our pace, and we take an extra step away, as if they were some sort of disease... and sometimes we throw out loose change into their little plastic containers. The right thing to do is to perhaps offer these people some food, or take them to the nearest police station or even community center. But no.. we do none of that. We go on enjoying our little drinks and finger foods and what have you 10 seconds after walking away. Somehow, we can be so emotionally detached in the face of such suffering. What if you were the one sitting there begging? What if it were you and your legs cut off? Wouldn't YOU want someone, anyone, to come save you from your plight? Not just give you loose change, but take you away, and out of this hell hole... this demeaning, miserable and horrible life of begging? WHY DOESN'T ANYBODY HELP? HOW CAN SO MANY CARE SO LITTLE? In many ways, we have failed our fellow man.

If there is one single reasons that keeps me away from Pasar Malam's... this is it. I cannot stand the sight of these beggars. It breaks my heart.... I'm a big softie deep down you see, and 30 minutes after walking away, I still have the image of them lingering in my head. I cannot bring myself to give them any money..... Some will call me cheapskate or kedekut.. or even heartless. But I can't give them because it feels like I'm giving to some criminals who deliberately mutilated these people for this very purpose.. money. And I cannot come to terms with the fact that despite all my so called righteous ramblings about the right thing do to help them, I would end up just doing the same thing; NOTHING. I'd just walk away, like everyone else. I'd be no different from every other person.. at least they gave some money...... Realizing all the above and still do nothing just makes me more a hypocrite that everyone else.

I don't know about you.... but having to confront yourself and deal with these sort of issues of humanity and human suffering just because you want your favourite char koay teow from the pasar malam is a bit heavy for me. The hardest decision I'm ready to make in a pasar malam is on which stalls has the nicest chicken wings, not whether or not I have failed towards my fellow human being.

A wonderous moment of bliss......

As we reached the park.. the rain seemed to slow down.

"Thank you God!'...I whispered to myself.

There weren't too many lights, so the place was a bit dark. The air felt cool and moist. At least it wasn't hot and sticky. We got out of the car and started walking.. Her fingers automatically slide between mine as I reach out my hand, no words, no gestures needed; one of those things we just can read off each other after so many years of being together.

We walked slowly, not saying too much.. just enjoying each other's company... a comfortable silence. I lead her on to the spot we had first met..

********************

Back when we were both 16. We were from different schools.. There was this environmental awareness programme being organized by an NGO for schools around the Klang valey.. and we had each been chosen by our schools respectively to participate. I was soOo close to not going. The night before, my friends and I were hooked on the television, watching the Champions League semi finals... where Bayern Munich beat Man Utd to advance into the finals. We were up until 4a.m. cheering on our team.. albeit in vein since they lost anyway. The 4 of us actually contemplated not going. Our team had lost.. We were in bad moods and we wanted to sleep. Who wants to be spending their day climbing up a hill and talking about recycling and saving mother earth when your team just lost anyway.... But for the sake of our beloved English teacher, whom we were all very fond of, we dragged our lazy asses and puffy eyes along.

We were split into groups.. and as luck would have it.. I got placed into the same group with the only other chinese girl in the whole event. And as the host shouted out "OK everyone, now turn around and introduce yourself to the person behind you...." I could not believe my luck as I stood there right behind her.

"Hi... I'm XXX" she said.

"Hi..... I'm YYY. OMG, you speak English!!" I said (rather stupidly actually)

"Erm...... YeeeEess?" she answers half puzzled

"Oh no... I mean.. that's great! It's really nice to have someone to speak to in English for a change." I said.

Back from where I was from.. very little people spoke English. Everything was either in Malay, or Mandarin or Cantonese.. I missed having someone to speak to in my primary language... so speaking to her was quite a joy.. The fact that she was so pretty was also a plus point!

I must have sounded so lame to her for making such comments.. but thankfully, we hit it off real quick.. and before long... we were so engrossed in conversation with each other that we pretty much neglected everyone else in the group. When we started our way up the hill, we were in front of the line.. By the time we were down again at the foot of the hill.. we were one of the last. She had shared with me all the hardships she had faced in her life... her broken home, her missing mother, her estranged father, her junkie brother, and her abandoned younger brother living in a shelter home. I was blown away. Not by pity.. not by sadness..but by admiration. I thought I HAD had it bad.. but the things she was telling me was far beyond what I ever experienced. And there she was, happy and cheerful and as normal as everyone else.

I never believed in love at first sight, and if you ask me today, I'd still tell you the same thing. It doesn't exist. Love is nurtured and build.. not something you fall into. But I DO know that from the fateful first day I met her, I have been crazy about this girl ever since. I didn't know then that it would be the start of something new that would shape the rest of my life, I didn't know that this woman would be the one I would want to marry.. And I didn't know that this would be the spot I was going to propose. Life suddenly seemed stranger than fiction.

****************************

We sat down at a chair as the rain started to tinkle down again. She was a full grown woman now. More beautiful than she has ever been. Back when, very early on in our relationship, I started calling her beautiful.. almost every single day.

"I'm not beautiful dear.. Only you say that." she would tell me...

"Well... ONE DAY, people are going to start noticing you... and they'll start being very sweet and nice to you.. and call you beautiful... When THAT day comes..... just remember... I said it first..... Long before anyone else had eyes to see, I already did.. Remember that OK?"

That day had arrived.... and yes.. she remembered.

There were some annoying groups of people that came by, making noises.. chatting.. playing games in the park...She was uneasy and wanted to leave... but I said "NO, lets stay.. We CAME HERE FIRST. THEY SHOULD LEAVE, NOT US".

I was guarding the place like a jealous pit bull...I was not leaving my spot, not now, not tonight, not on this occasion.. My heart was racing... racing sooo hard. I had not felt this nervous or anxious for a long long time. 7 years to be exact.... when I nervously grabbed her and and asked her to be my girlfriend. The same nervousness.. the same fear.. the same anticipation. But I was also 7 years older, 7 years wiser, and 7 years in preparation for the question I was about to ask. This time, I was asking her hand in marriage. I had done it in the spur of the moment back then.. This time, I had meticulously planned everything.

I had avoided hugging her the whole night. I didn't want her to feel the ring. I gently felt it.. It was still there.. so was the other crucial thing.. the piece of paper. But not just any paper. The scrap piece of paper I had messily scribbled my proposal on while sitting in the car.. After I bought the ring. For once in my life, I had planned ahead of time what I wanted to wear. The jacket was the only thing that could safely hide these two items. I used to write her simple short poems.. and she loved it. Sometimes she would take out the old ones and read them over and over again. I always felt they were rather crude and elementary.. But she thought it was sweet... And she started to comment when they got lesser and lesser. (I can't be inspired all the time!)... I remembered that.., and suddenly, all the pieces just came together. I had figured out the when; on our 7th anniversary. 7 is considered a perfect number. I had figured out the where; the place we met.. And finally, with some inspiration, I had figured out the how; through a poem I would pen for her.

I waited and waited and waited till there was no one else around...

"It's about time. It's now or never. " I thought to myself. I never felt so nervous going through the next few lines... trying to lead the conversation into my true intentions.

"Sorry I didn't buy you anything for our anniversary dear.."

"It's OK darling.. Dinner was lovely.... You don't need to buy me anything. I had a good time."

"Ya la.. Well.. no money ma recently.. You know how you always complain that I never write you poems anymore?"

"YeeeEees"

"Well.. since I didn't buy you anything, I wrote you a poem instead. You want me to read it to you?..."

"REALLY!! So sweet.. Faster faster!!" I could see the sparkle in her eyes....

"OK, OK... But I'm a bit shy.. So you look in front.. You musn't look at me while I'm reading it OK? Promise.." Truth was... I didn't want her seeing me reach into my pocket and opening the ring.

"OK, OK.. Faster!!" as she looks away. I love seeing her all excited and happy.

"Alright.. here goes" As I reach into my pocket and took out the scribbled piece of paper...

DEEP BREATH.... TAKE IT SLOWLY

I started reading (don't laugh OK.. I'm just an engineer, not a poet)

*******************

Dear,

Seven long years it has been,

Seems just like yesterday, holding your hand gave me butterflies,

Never could have planned, never would have bet,

The way it all came together, the somehow.. we magically met.

So beautiful you were (and still are!), lovely eyes, infectious smile,

No matter how bad things were, I always knew it was worth while.

Sure, you may think others are prettier, slimmer or smarter,

But, given a choice, I'd still have no other.

Through the peaks and valleys we have been,

So aching the hard times, so sweet and dreamy the good times seem,

I know at times, you just want to throw it all away,

Our fights get so bad, surely this was more than just a bad day!

Yet, here we are today, still together firm and true,

My heart is all yours, is there anything at all I wouldn't do for you?

Such a warm and loving partner, with a caring heart,

More than ever, I don't think we should ever be apart!

Here we are , at the place it all began,

Where fate seems to have guided my hand to your hand,

In my heart, I KNOW... we were meant to be.

But darling......... I still need to ask.........."Will you..... marry me?"

*******************

I ended the last 2 lines holding the ring in my hand at her. She just took one quick glance at it and hugged me tight and said "YES".... bursting in tears. Tears that sounded more like tears of relief more than tears of joy....

"I never expected it would be this way.. I never expected it would be this way........." she says in between sobs....... Gosh, I love her...... The joy and relief finally setting in. I had done it. I'd give myself a pat in the back.... but I was too busy holding her tight.

After she had calmed down.. I took the ring out of the box. This was the moment of truth after playing guessing for an entire week......I gently held her finger and slid the ring in. She covered her mouth with the other hand... A perfect fit.

"It's beautiful. How did you know to buy gold? Most people would've gone for white gold..."

I looked at her and smiled.. "I just knew...."

We just sat there.. in each others arms.. She resting on my shoulder... as I kissed her on the head, I knew in my heart, that this was the kind of moment.. the kind of feeling that only came to people.. mostly once in their life... and many times, hardly in the ways they hoped or expected it to be. I never want to forget that feeling.. that feeling of being the happiest person alive....

This date, this place, this woman... has changed my life...

I had proposed... and she had said yes.... I closed my eyes.. savouring this wondrous moment of bliss.

The day we met (when fate & love collide)

The rain was just stopping as we came out of the car. Victoria Station... one of the steak houses in Malaysia we've been talking about trying for ages but never did. After donkey years of talk only, I finally said to her, we're going. The place was quiet and rather empty.. no doubt due to the rain. We were seated and ordered... steaks, lobster, soup, salad... and of course, a bottle of red wine. We settled in and before long, we were already busy chatting away like old friends...going on about how fast things seemed to go by in a flash, the challenges we faced, how we met, etc etc

"You look so beautiful tonight dear..." I say to her.

"You always tell me that.. all the time. Fat or thin, jeans or dress. I can never believe you." she replies..

"What? That's because you DO look beautiful all the time." I reply.

"You ar...You only say that because you love me" she smiles...

"No. Who says so? Who says I love you..." I shoot back and she gives me a spank my hand and shows me the face for being cheeky...

It was our 7th anniversary of being together......... She NEVER tires of telling people the story of how we met or how we ended up together. Most of the time, I let her do the telling.. but here's how it went.... roughly..

*******************

7 years ago on that day, we went out on what would be our second date and third time meeting face to face. I had arrived AN HOUR late from from our meeting time. Neither of us had a mobile back then, so it was hard to try and reschedule. I couldn't find her when I arrived at the entrance. I thought the worst; she had left. She was probably pissed off after waiting for so long and walked off. I was completely dejected and miserable. I had blown it. After a whole year of waiting, I had blown it off. I thought of leaving, but against hope of hopes, I stayed there thinking maybe I could spot her passing the entrance and try to salvage something. So I just sat there, staring into the nothingness... waiting for apparently nothing, lost in my own thought.

An hour of sitting there... at the brink of leaving, and she shows up...and in a hurry too.. She whisk me away, dragging me along with her even before I had a chance to say anything. As we headed towards the washroom, she explained; she had woken up LATE! So she rushed to get ready to catch the next bus, and in doing so, she had put on her blouse inward out. She didn't notice until the persons behind her started giggling.

"Don't laugh at me ar..." she said.

I burst out laughing... more in relief that in amusement. I thought I had screwed up... Turns out she screwed up even more. Haha..... It caught me off guard. It was the last thing I'd expect out of this date. One an hour late, the other, TWO. But I was just so glad that she was there. I still had a chance.

Hours later, after dinner and movie, as the evening sun went down, we sat in front of the entrance, waiting for someone to come pick us up.

"Do you have something to tell me? Are you OK?" she prodded and prodded

I couldn't stop shaking. I was a nervous wreck, I was having cold sweat, my heart was racing.. I didn't know how to be charming and witty, I didn't know how to be confident and suave... I only knew that I was crazy about this girl. There was this looming feeling that I was supposed to DO something. (she especially likes emphasizing and exaggerating this next part) And so, at a sudden impulse, with as much elegance and poise as a drunkard sailor, I reached out, grabbed her hands and blurted (more like vomited) out "Would you be my girlfriend?"... just like that.. out of the blue.. no introduction.. no elaboration, nothing.... (GOWD.. Talk about lacking finess)..... She keeps silent.. and I felt like an even bigger fool that before.

"Let me think about it..." she tells me with a wily smile on her face.

"OK..... " I replied.

I hadn't expected myself to do that. And after a while of silence, I felt like I was not only ill prepared to ask that question, I was also not ready to hear the answer. What if she said no?

"On second thought, you don't have to answer me tonight OK. Think about it and just give me an answer when you're ready." I said.

"OK. But I'm ready to give you an answer now. Do you want to hear it?" she asks.

"WHAT? NO. DON'T TELL ME. I'm not ready yet." I responded.. This was going waaaay to fast....

And so she keeps quiet. Our ride comes, and we head toward the car..... There could be no more lovey dovey talk once we were inside. Just before we entered the car... she turns to me, and she bursts out..

"Oh ya.. by the way... the answer is YES."

We got in the car, I turned back and whispered to her "Did you just say yes?"

"I don't know. What do you think?" she says with a grin... and I just smile back at her. She sure had a way of catching me off guard. And the rest they say.. is history....

********************

I smiled a lot throughout the night.. partially because we finished a bottle of wine between the two of us and I was feeling quite relaxed... partially because of the two items sitting safely inside my jacket pocket. I hid it there.. it was the last place she would search (if she was searching that is). My mind wasn't on dinner.. it was on the two items in my pocket.

I called for the bill, tipped the waiter, and made our way to the car. I spot the waiters and other customers eying her as we walk by. She really looked beautiful. I don't know why she never believes me.

It had started drizzling again. Darn it. A quick "Tolong saya-lah Tuhan (God help me!)" under my lips... and I suggested to her that I wanted to walk in the park.. Eat too much... need to digest a bit.

"But it's drizzling..."

"Ya.. it's not VERY heavy.. and I really feel like I need a walk. Come la.. lets go. I'm sure it'll stop."

"............. OK."

Proposing in the restaurant seemed a bit cliche.. and not quite my style. I had other plans. The lame excuse about wanting to take a walk was just a front. I knew I was never the type to come with flowers, go down on bended knee and propose in public. Sooo.. not me la.. I have never gave much serious thought about how I would propose to my future wife when I was younger. But when I finally did start to think about it, I knew mine would have to be personal.. and meaningful.... something significant.. not to others.. but to the two of us. That was how I decided when, where and most importantly, HOW I was going to propose.

So far, so good.

Off we drove.. towards the park for 'a walk'. There wasn't a more perfect time to propose than tonight.. our anniversary. And there wasn't a more perfect place to do it than there, in that park... at that very place, that very spot where we first met.

Now, if only the rain would just stop for a while............

The thing with The Ring

"What's her finger size?" she asked me...

"Her what? Finger size? Errrrmmmmmmmmm......" blur case...

"Is her fingers like my size?" she helpfully asks as she shows me her fingers.

"Errrmmmm..... Yes.. Almost.. But a bit... 'meatier'".. I said.

"It's best you know her size for sure. Some rings can be modified, others can't. You have to return it in 3 days if it doesn't else we'll buy it back from you at 70%" she says.

"OKAY... Soooo.. How do I find out her ring size? I don't know." Was feeling a bit anti climactic. I had hoped to buy it that day itself. I though I could just waltz in and be done with it. typical male shopping mentality. (Hopeless la you... Liddat oso duno.. hold people's hand for so many years.. ring size also cannot get right).

"Here, take this.. Measure it using this and come back when you have a size." she tells me, as she passes me a paper strip that rolled into a ring... used to measure a persons finger size..

oooOOOooh.. so THAT's how people measure finger sizes.. Man, me buying jewelry was like a kampung boy trying to take the LRT. So awkward.. so unfamiliar.

But how was I going to measure her finger without making it obvious to her what I was up to? I had exactly one week to get it done before my big little plan. She's sharp as a hawk. How am I supposed to do it? A few ideas came up.

Aaah.. I could just take one of her existing rings and send it to the shop.. They'd find the exact size in no time and save me the trouble.. But wait.. Oh.. ya.. she doesn't wear rings. Scap that idea..

I KNOW! I could pretend I came across this little strip of paper.. Pretend to be suddenly interested in rings and ring sizes and all and try to casually get her to measure her finger... On second thought, maybe not la.. She'll see right through it. I've never been interested in her jewelry etc.. so why the sudden interest? Dumb idea.. :-S

I could get a friend to measure it for me.. But that'd mean I'd have to spill the beans on my plans to some other person. I didn't want that. (I'm very private)... Plus, THAT person would have to come up with some lame ass excuse on why they wanted her ring size also.. Dumberer idea...

AHA.. I could just wait till one of those mornings, when she was deep in her sleep.. and her fingers just happened to be in the open.. I could delicately take out the paper and oh-so-gently wrap in around her finger.. and voila! A ring size!! It was risky.. because she was a light sleeper... She's always been the type to wake up at the slightest distraction / noise.. I always slept like a stone.

I patiently waited my time.. Trying to catch my opportunity.. Waiting for the chance when she was sleep, and her fingers exposed.. But I think lady luck wasn't on my side and I just knew this wasn't going to be so easy. It was a challenge life was throwing at me.. Buying the wrong ring size would be quite a kill joy.

I spent the entire week, holding her hand, looking at her fingers, then my own.. then hers.. then my own. She picked up on my behaviour.. and was asking why I was behaving 'so strangely'... Because there were time I'd be just staring at her fingers real hard.. and other times, I'd just call her "Dear.... erm... Nothing-la"..... and she's have this puzzled look on her face. I know I know.. I wasn't doing a very good job hiding my intentions.. But I REALLY didn't want to get it wrong.

By the end of the week, I still hadn't a clue what her finger size was.. But had a pretty rough idea that it was around the size of my left baby finger.. I just had to go with that...

The day before my big little plan....

It was a Saturday. I made some lame excuse about wanting to go jogging. Thank goodness she wanted to cook dinner so she didn't come along. I put on my shorts, and my running shoes.. and my Visit KL shirt just to look the part. Haha, you'd never tell I was going to buy a ring. I drove to the jewelry shop again.. I later found out it was the very same shop MY parents bought their wedding bands (isn't that something?).. This time, it was a different guy.

"Can I help you? You looking for anything in particular?"

"Ya... erm.. I want to buy a gold ring. Plain, simple gold ring." It just HAD to be a gold ring. She never liked white gold.. Her work didn't permit fancy jewelry, and it just didn't seem her style to be wearing flashy jewelry. She and I have both always loved simple, understated elegance. I wanted a simple ring she could wear everyday, everywhere without worry. PLUS, my pockets weren't really deep enough to get anything with a stone on it. A simple gold ring would have to do. After all, in my mind.. this was just to propose.. It's not our actual wedding bands.. That was to be selected together.

A doubt crossed my mind. When you propose to someone and you get engaged, should the man be wearing one too? I wasn't really properly taught on the protocols of marriage and engagements etc. I wasn't even sure how a proper proposal was supposed to be done.. if there were ever such a thing. All I knew was, there is this point, when a man gets down on his knees, and ask the woman to be his wife... In the movies.. that usually skips fast forward to their wedding days.. so how you are supposed to engaged was really lost to me. In the mean time, does the guy wear a ring too? I certainly didn't have to budget for TWO. One will have to suffice.

Anyway, so there I was.. going through all the gold rings that they had. I really wished I had a female companion I could bring along, or at least if the sales personnel was a female. I felt I really needed a woman's advice right about now. I don't even trust my own sense of fashion even when it came to wearing my own cloths.. How was I to choose a suitable ring for such an occasion? The bored looking male sales assistant wasn't much help either.. Keeping his interaction to a minimum.. My first, second and third choice of rings all seemed to irk him in some way. He finally spoke out "These rings are all nice... albeit a bit..... TRADITIONAL How old is the person you're buying it for? Oh? Twenties.... how about you try some of these...." His not so subtle way of telling me I've been picking the most outdated 'aunti-ish' looking rings.

Despite his sarcastic remarks.. I eagerly welcomed his suggestions.. I must say, the rings he picked out for me did look quite nice.. though they weren't exactly 'plain'.. But anyway.. It boiled down to two choices... One lighter, fancier looking pattern, the other, simple, but heavier looking with a bit of styling.. just the way I wanted it. He warned that it WAS popular.. but it could scratch after prolonged use.. since the lining across the centere was polished. It was bound to have wear and tear. That alone made the pragmatic engineer in me want to choose the sturdier one.... But I reminded myself that in matters such as this, a different thinking cap was required.

"How much?"

"RMXXX" (Yes, it was still within 3 figures)

Gulp..... OK.. More than I planned for.. but certainly not too preposterous, considering the occasion. Plus, the ring was nice, plus it could be adjusted if the size didn't quite fit... That was quite something to consider too.

"OK. THIS ONE. I WILL TAKE THIS ONE."

"Great. Good choice. So what size?"

"Erm... (looking at my baby finger).. 12.. no no.. 14.. no no.. erm.....(deep breath).. I'll take 14." I finally decided.

I paid for it.. took the box and walked out the store.. It was raining. Gosh, I'm going to have to explain how I went jogging in this rain. How come I didn't come home straight away? OK, I'll just say I got stuck somewhere halfway. Ya, that'll do. I've never been very good at lying.. But it was either white lies all the way or ruin her surprise.

I threw away the silly strip of paper I had the whole week. Some help THAT was.... I ran across the car park and into my car. It was done. I finally took that step. The first physical incarnation of my intention to propose. I knew she already suspected something.. but ha.. I wasn't about to let her in on my intentions so easily. I had to think where to hide the ring so she wouldn't find it. And how does a person go about the rest of his day, acting all dandy and normal, just after making one of the most important purchases of his life? I was bursting with excitement, but thankfully, being a rather reserved person, it wasn't too obvious when I got home.

And there was still that other thing I needed to do.. something that was to me, EVEN MORE important that this. I've let it brew in my mind for the entire week.. And I felt ready to put it into action.. But at least for now.. this was accomplished.

I had bought the ring I was going to use to propose.... God I hope she liked it...

The decision.. to propose...

It has been rough for the earlier few months..

After being a relationship for so many years... its so easy.. especially for me to feel complacent. Things were good the way they are.. If it's not broken why fix it right? I was happy... I was content.. Our relationship had been the cornerstones of my life these half decade.. The one constant source of love, joy, happiness and support through thick and thin.

What we called this relationship meant little to me.. A rose is still a rose by any other name.. What mattered was the connection, the commitment, the love.. And what we had was to me.. close to perfect... Maybe not a match made in heaven.... it's not without its hiccups and kinks.. but I felt with all my heart that it was good as it gets when it comes to love...

I knew she wanted more.. I knew unlike me.. what it was called mattered to her. She needed the assurance.. the need of a public declaration. She needed a firm commitment.. Not some intrinsic ideal about how love is love regardless of its name. She needed to know first hand...

Every relationship has it's thorns.. This was one of ours.. She wanted commitment. I wanted freedom. She wanted to firm it up. I wanted to keep it open. Everytime she brought it up I would evade, and we both would get frustrated. She at me for evading.. and me at her for constantly bringing it up.

Finally one day.. it came to breaking point. We talked on the phone while I was away. She could take it any longer. She felt we were stagnant. She couldn't understand what I was evading for. I honestly didn't understand either. There was no one else. My heart belonged to her. We fought again.. and we argue.. and she cried.. Not like usual.. but truly mourning and crying. Not out of anger, not out of spite, not out of sadness.. just out of pure frustration. I was angry.. I was confused, I was lost.

We hardly spoke for the next 3 days. She neither called nor replied to my text messages. It was OK. I had a lot of soul searching to do. I knew I loved this woman with all my heart. I knew she was the one I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. The past 7 years have flew by so fast only because she was there to share it with me. She was hot tempered, she was impatient, she was stubborn.. but she was loving, passionate, and she lighted up my days. Sometimes she's dead serious, sometimes she's playful as a cat, sometimes she's protective, sometimes she's tender and loving... other times, she's just plain funny. She made my life colourful. Without her, my life would be just shades of gray (I'm that bland). While I was reserved, serious and rational, she was outgoing, bubbly and intuitive... I always speak in a typical dry and matter of fact way, ... It comes across as dull and boring. She speaks in the most colourful and expressive ways.. full of sound effects and noises..

She's everything I'm not..

I knew in my heart... that I actually adored her for it..

She brought out the spontaneous, wacky, crazy, playful and mischievous sides of me which otherwise would most likely remain permanently buried deep in the layers of my personality.. If hearts could sing, mine would for her.... The best part is... I knew with every certainly that she felt the same way about me.. I knew she loved me with all her heart too.. She wouldn't still be around me if she thought otherwise... And here she was crying her heart out because of me, wondering why I found it so hard to do what came most naturally to her.. I felt like a fool. What WAS I waiting for? what WAS I holding out on? Nothing... Nothing at all... She's the only person who's eyes I've seen my future in. She's the only person I can imagine myself growing old with. She's the first person I wanted to see in the morning, and last one I wanted to kiss goodnight...

And that was when...

That's when I decided... that it was time to propose.

Confrontation : Will you comply?

"And what about medication? Who's going to be there to ensure you comply?"

"Your brother can give it to me in the mornings and in the evenings when he gets back."

"He won't be around all the time. Sometimes, he'll be out.. or away. There will be no one to give you the medicine... Then what?"

"I can take it on my own. I've been doing it for years."

(Will she? Will she have the discipline to take it even on her own? Can she be trusted? She's always been the type to take the medicine in ways she deems fit... yet there were time she took it on her own accord....)

"Do you remember what Dr. Ng said? He told me, and you that under no circumstances were you to live on your own unsupervised... I thought about it long and hard these 2 days, and I clearly remember him saying that.... and you know what? I think he is 100% right. I know you think you can take care of yourself, but I agree with the doctor."

(Truth be told, I've always admired the way she has held out over the last 10 years.. living on her own, no income, constantly struggling with schizophrenia and depression. It's a miracle that she's alive and well.. Even the doctor said that. In my heart, I feel like it has been God Himself that has been protecting her from harm. But her records speaks against her. She resisted medicine whenever was going into a relapse.....)

"I will take the medicine"

"Do you remember when we stayed in KD for about a year? We were living together, and you stayed at home, mind the house and cooked dinner, just like how you want it again now? Do you remember how we had to badger, beg, plea, scream, shout and threaten before you were even willing to swallow one tiny medicine? I had to crush your medicine, dilute it in water and force you to drink it all down. Then I'd make you stick out your tongue to make sure you didn't try to hide any to spit it out later?"

She nodded....

"There can be no repeat of that. Neither of us have the strength or the heart to go through that again. I can't go through that all again. If you are out from the home and live with us, you will have to take the medication when it is given to you. No questions, no bargaining, no delaying. No saying you'll take it later.. No asking for half... no complaining about side effects. If you even resist for one second.. you would have broken your promise. Do you think you can do that?"

Again, she just nods in acknowledgement

"And what happens if and when you go into a relapse? You never realize how nasty you can get... and none of us have the energy to deal with it. If you go into a relapse, you must agree that we can in our discretion admit you back into the home or the hospital to get you stabilized, no questions asked."

(She was always nastiest when she was in her relapse. In her normal state, she is always accommodating, cheerful and pleasant to be around. But in her relapses, she would turn into this self absorbed paranoid person. She'll talk for an hour straight without pausing to listen to a word you have to say, she'll show faces and talk behind your back, she'll have absolutely no regard to your feelings...... there was no way to talk OR reason with her when she was in this state. The worse part of it all is, after she was ok, she never seemed to realize or remember the things that we went through. While we would be licking our wounds, trying to recover from the emotional strain, she's act as if everything is just fine...or at least that's how it seemed)

"If I go into a relapse, you can put me back into the home until I'm better before taking me out again. But don't put me in the hospital.. I've already had many bad experiences with them.. I don't want to go back there anymore."

(I hated having to admit her into hospital too. It's costly, the care isn't as good, and every single hospitalization is an emotional episode of it's own. The problem isn't about choosing between a home or the hospital. The problem was she could never agree with us that she IS in a relapse. As far as she's concerned, she's never in a relapse... and when we tell her she is, she just says we're trying to be too smart, acting like doctors)

"I wasn't here to scold you ma.. I just wanted to see if you've thought about all this things. We've done this whole thing many times before... if we just go at it again, we are repeating our mistakes, and running in circles. Think about what I've said... I don't expect you to give me a reply on any of these things. Just think about it. We can talk about it more when we meet again on Sunday."

"OK. So you will come on Sunday? Are we going to Church?"

"Yes, I'll come on Sunday. Yes, I'll bring you to church. I'm sorry for not taking you for so long. I promise I will this time.. Come, let's go....."

**************************************************

As ill as she is, as bad as her schizophrenia is... there are some things about my mother I truly admire and envy. Her iron will and instinct to survive.. but more so.. her faith in God. I always remember that in her hardest time.. in her most anxious moment, she'd just phase out, and start chanting to herself "Jesus.. Jesus... Jesus...." I used to make fun of it... But no more. It has been her faithfulness and trust in God that has kept her safe....

When I read 2 Corinthians 4:7

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

I thought only of my mother. A frail and helpless woman, living on her own, with no support, and mentally ill... and yet, she beat the odds, she survived, and through it all, keeping her faith in God, believing that her needs would be taken care of.. and they were. She survived not by her own strength or will. She was the jar of clay, fragile and easily broken... but in her, was this all surpassing power that saw her through.. and that was the spirit of God..

In the same conversation above, she shared with me an amazing tale. Her own mother had a history of mental illness. She became a nurse (in University Hospital), and specialized in psychiatry because she wanted to help others who also had family who were ill, just like her. I know it's ironic that she would eventually fall ill.

But when she got married, she was worried, because the tendency to get mental illness is sometimes hereditary. Not that their children are doomed to be crazy too.. but they chances were higher than others if not properly addressed. She was fearful that her children might one day be mentally ill.. She considered not having children at all, and after talking to my father, friends and her church, she prayed to God for guidance... and according to her.. God spoke to her...

"How? You mean God told you "Don't worry your kids will not be cockoo?" I asked.

"Through prayer, and quiet time, and reading the bible...." she answered.

And suddenly I became speechless. If anyone deserved abundance of blessings and love in life.. it was her. She didn't deserve to have this fate in life.. not like this, not when she loved and trusted God with all her heart.

"I understood that as long as I was faithful to Him, my children will be protected and blessed. And you look at the two of you today, you are both fine... and very strong." she said.

I was blown away. Was this why I have been able to stay steadfast all these years? God made a promise to my mother, that as long as she was faithful, her children would be fine. And with that faith, she went ahead and had two sons.....

My God..........

Confrontation : Will you stay?

"Do you realize that there isn't much of a place for you to stay? You might have to sleep in the living room, or we have to convert the store into a room. Is that really what you want?"

"It's OK. I can sleep in the living room when no one's around and just sleep in the room at night."

"What about Pa? You do know he lives there right. Can you handle having him around? I don't think you can. We've tried it before. He will start asking you to make one coffee, then two, and you will make it... but keep silent. You'll be stressed out but you won't say a thing. Then when you finally can't take it anymore, you'll just leave. Or, you'll ask to stay with me.. and you won't be able to get along with so and so again, just like the last time.. and you'll leave again. Tell me I'm wrong.. tell me that's not what you'll do. I know you better than you think."

she just smiles

"I don't want us to be running in circles. We've tried this before... many times. It always starts out with such a simple and beautiful idea.. So simple and beautiful, even I would want it. You say you want to just stay with us, take care of the house, cook dinners, and spend time with us. It's such a lovely idea.... But somehow, it didn't work out didn't it, despite trying so many times? There are always other things that get in the way. You need to get social welfare money, you IC is registered up north, your friends are waiting for you, you can't stand the neighbourhood, prices here are too expensive, you've got nothing to do. There's always something...... something that will take you away"

she tried to counter what I says, she tells me that in each of the occasions, she had a valid reason. That there were things that prompted her to go. And even she cannot deny that in ALL those times, she did it.... on an IMPULSE.


"I cannot have that anymore. Remember when I snatched you off the streets last year in Jalan Hang Tuah. You were dark, dirty, unkept, unwashed, with nothing but some plastic bags full of random things, no money, no roof on your head, nothing but the cloths on your back.. I drove you straight to University Hospital Emergency ward remember? I kept you in the back seat.. I didn't tell you the child lock was on, because I was terrified that you would try to run once you knew where I was taking you. On that day, I swore to myself that I would do everything I can to keep you safe. I would never allow this thing to happen again... EVER. Even if it meant locking you up for your own good, even against yourself. I meant what I said ma....."

(6 months later, on the day I got a call from my brother telling me she was hospitalized after a hit and run with a lorry, I knew I had already failed at this promise.)


no reply.....


"If you want to stay with us again, if you even want me to consider it, for the love of God, you must swear to me, and give me your word that you will NEVER EVER GO OFF AGAIN... and you must keep your word. If I take you out, and God forbid you never come back alive again, whose hands will the blood be on ma.. Who? THE BLOOD WILL BE ON MY HANDS. BECAUSE I ALLOWED IT TO HAPPENED... Do you understand?"

"It cannot be all on me. I will do my best to keep busy and keep my mind off going away. It's when I think too much that I think these sort of things. You can't blame it all on me also. You have your part to play too... To try to accommodate me.."

"Of course. We will do all we can to make your stay bearable... that you can be at peace. But there can be no excuse or justification for taking off again. NONE. The commitment must come first... and you must honour that commitment like your life depended on it (it probably does). 'Best effort basis' is not acceptable. When 2 people get married, you don't stand in front of the altar, and in front of all your loved ones and say you'll go through thick and thin, better of worse, sickness and health... ON A BEST EFFORT BASIS..... You give a commitment for life, and you give it with every intention of keeping it. Yes, sometimes things STILL don't work out.. But that's God's plan, not ours. I expect nothing short of THAT level of commitment ma... Can you give me that? If you cannot, there is nothing more to say anymore."

More silence........


"OK. If I get the feeling that I want to go somewhere, I will talk to you and only go once the both of you are agreeable."

Finally, some sort of understanding......

"OK. Are you a person of your word ma? I know pa isn't. He's proven that before. But are you? What happens if you break your promise? What happens if you don't keep your word? What do I have to hold on to in case you default on this? It cannot be an empty promise with no ramification or consequences.."

again she keeps quite, her eyes just look at me and says "what is there for me to give"

"The truth is, there is nothing. Nothing I can hold you to against your word. What can I do, take away your money? Scold you? No.. there's nothing I can do. Even if you give me your word and you break it.... you won't be accountable. There is only one way ma... You MUST give me your word... and you MUST keep it.. That's the only way you will win and I will win."

she noddes her head.. more an understanding that a compliance to what I was asking.

to be continued...


Sigh.. if you only knew how it feels like, having a serial runaway mom. After the 3rd or 4th time.. I started to realize some things about my mother; She was always the compromising kind, always giving, patient, but when she set her mind and heart on something, her spirit was indomitable and she had a will of iron. It doesn't seem that way because on the surface, she would always be silent and gentle... but beneath it, I've seen the depths of her determination, and her unbreakable will. I sometimes feel that to some extent, I had inherited that silent, unwavering, stubborn trait of hers. It it how she had survived all these years. As long as she has this will to live as she pleases, there can be no underestimating her, despite appearances

Gates, doors, locks and alarms are not the things that are keep her from going off, not even now as she stays in the home. It is her will....If she wanted to, I'm 100% sure she could find a way to escape. But for now, she still has the will to stay... for a while... to accommodate us some time to take her out.

Regardless if she stays in the home or with us, she cannot be thinking of wanting to live on her own ever again. A plan that's so simple and decent... but essentially flawed.

I need her to change her mind.
I need to quell her fire.
I need...... to break her will.

Leading up to the Confrontation

The phone rings.. It's my brother calling.

"You busy? Can talk for a while?"

"A bit.. but ya go ahead. How was the appointment with the doctor? Everything went ok?"

"Yeah... Everything went well. The doctor was very friendly. Even praise her for her good english. We had a nice lunch and I just dropped her back. You're going to see her later for dinner right?"

"Ya. Sorry I couldn't make it. But I definitely want to see her tonight. I need to talk to her."

"Ya, that's what I'm calling you for. Are you going to scold her?"

"................................... erm. What?"

"She's scared you're going to be angry at her over and scold her. Are you?"

"................. No... Well, yes, maybe a little, if I need to get my point through."

(Do I really come across as being so pissed off and scary? I thought I was always the nice guy?)

"Don't scold her la... She doesn't mean any harm.. and she's just being honest and sincere. Give her a chance to talk and hear what she has to say....."

"I know... And I'm not about to just go and scold her. I just want to talk to her.. I will listen to what she has to say... But there are things I need to say to her too.. Things I am sure she hasn't thought about. Anyway, I'm working. I'll talk to you later about this, before I see her."

"OK, make sure you call me... and remember, don't scold her OK."

(What are you now, her patron saint or something?)

"OK, I will call you. I won't scold her la... I'm just going to talk to her...."

"OK..Bye"

"Bye..."


It was a spit second decision. I spoke to my brother the night before, and I said to him, I'm going. I'm going to come straight from work to pick her up.. I want to talk to her... that's all I said.

I now understood that she was apprehensive of me coming just so suddenly. She was scared of me.. scared of what I might have to say, scared that I might rebuke her for trying to pressure my brother into letting her stay while I was not around.

Oh.. I was going to give her a piece of my mind alright... Definitely.

It's not like I was going to eat her alive or start screaming at her. But I was definitely not going to mince my words. I had thought about nothing else the night before.. and also throughout my day. I was mentally prepared. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, exactly what I wanted to make her see...

I still didn't know what to do about this whole thing still...my heart still felt like it was in a messed.. full of turmoil, full of conflict....but somehow after a while, I at least knew where to start.....

It had to start by confronting my mother.

If only I knew what to do..........

"There was a bit of incident on Sunday, when she was staying over"

"What happened? She tried to run away again?"

"No. Nothing of the sort. She was actually very well behaved the whole weekend."

"Then what is it?"

"She was just crying, because she didn't want to go back to the home. She says we're taking too long to give her an answer. I told her to give us until the end of the year, then we'll take her out. I think we need to sit down and talk."

(my heart sank, I could never stand the thought or the sight of my mother crying..... And why did you have to commit a date to her like that? Now she's hold us to your word.. and we don't even know if taking her out is the right thing to do!)





*silence*





"I don't know what to do.... Is it right to just cave into the pressure and just give her what she wants?"

"Its's not about caving in, we're just trying to make her happy"

"I don't know. What about Pa? Will she be comfortable with HIM around? Next thing you know she'll be complaining about having him around and take off again. She always does that. There's always something that upsets her."

"This time she seems different. It was different back then. She seems more settled now."

(Was this true? Is it really different this time?)





*silence*






"I don't know....... Who's going to take care of her? You? Can you handle it alone? Where would she sleep? What about your housemate?"

"I will have to. She's been saying she can just bunk in the living room. My housemate is not around most of the time anyway. There's small 4th room, but needs a lot of work."

"You mean the store room near the kitchen?"

"Yeah...."

(Could he? Could he really handle it? Is it right? Is it right to just give her a make shift room? How do we know she won't run away...... again?)






*silence*






"Anyway, its not something we can settle on the phone like that. We need to sit down and talk."

"Yeah....OK. I'll talk to you another time.. Bye.."

"Bye"


Why is it so hard? I just want to do the right thing.
I just want to do what is best for her, for everyone....

But I don't know......
I don't know what is the right thing to do,
or what is the best thing to do.....
I'm not even sure these 2 are the same thing.
What if what's right isn't the best vice versa?

Will history repeat itself?
Do people deserve second chances?
Does she deserve this 7th chance? (I lost count, but its about there)

What if she took off again?
What if she dissappeared and never came back alive?
What if my brother can't take it?
What if he hit her?

If only I knew what to do..........