The Calm After The Storm

I am slowly picking up the pieces, normality is finally being returned. I have alot to say, and I don't know where to start.

A few days ago I was confronted with a choice between the person I love and my education. I chose the latter. But it wasn't as simple as that. There were lots of tears shed, by me, my parents, and him. My parents were angry that I lied to them, they were hurt by my defiance, and I refused to speak to them both. He was hurt as well, and confused because he didn't understand why I couldn't just give us a chance. For a few days I felt as if I was all alone. My parents eyed me with distrust and suspicion, and I could not run to his arms for comfort like I used to.

Looking back, I think it was the right thing to do, albeit the misery and heartbreak. I loved him, and he loved me in return, more than, or at least I think, any other guy will ever do. Part of the reason why I was reluctant to break up with him was because I was scared that if I let him go, I would never find another person who would be so willing to love me, unconditionally, wholeheartedly. Maybe this was The One- and also the one that I had to let go. I cried myself to sleep, thinking of the way he loved me, the way he cared. How he treated me as if I was all that mattered. He always told me that to him, I was the most beautiful girl in the world, his princess, and he never wanted to let me go. He put up with me and my tantrums, catered to my whims and fancies, but yet always managed to bring me down to reality (with a variety of ways) if my head was too high up in the clouds. He was my lover, boyfriend, best friend, mentor, advisor, everything.

But he was not Chinese. I did not care, I fell in love with the person that he was and not for the colour of his skin. My parents, on the other hand, wanted me to end up with someone of my own race. I was aghast, and ashamed of the way they discriminated and judged. Of my mother, I thought, is that the way that a professed Christian should behave? Didn't God make all men equal in his eyes? And did he not say, to Love One Another? Of my father, I wondered why years of education in a foreign country, so cosmopolitan and multi racial, didn't teach him something so simple as acceptance of other people different from you. And didn't he have so many good friends of his own, that were not Chinese? Uncle Raj, Uncle Mahar, he didn't seem to despise them, so why do this?

I cannot put my finger on it, it seems to be something so deeply ingrained in them, but I look at them both, and I see the sacrifices that they have made for me, especially in sending me to London, and I know that everything they do, its because they love me. My father's friends are comfortably retired, and travelling the world, he is still working day and night to earn enough so that I can have the words Dr. in front of my name. We are not rich, I do not have thousands of pounds in my account at any one time, unlike my schoolmates. Almost every cent they earn goes straight to a HSBC account, set up specially for my school fees. For every one pound I carelessly spend on clothes or shoes, and frivolous immaterial things such as these, my parents have to earn seven ringgit. I know they love me immensely, and it pains me to see them hurt, to see my mother cry, to see the aching in my father's eyes.

And that is why I chose what I did. Not because I so badly wanted to go back to London to study, but because I didn't want to hurt them. I might not necessarily agree with their thinking, but they are still my parents.

But why couldn't I just keep us a secret from them? I did, and I failed. I knew that if I were to be in a relationship with someone, I wanted them to know, and approve. It might seem silly that my choice of partner should be approved by my parents, but that is the way I want things to be. I want them to be happy, because then I too will be. As much as I admire her courage and steadfastness, I was not born to be a Juliet.

So that is the way things are for now. My parents and I, we are back to one happy family. I long for him still, deep inside, for his hugs and his kisses, and his love, because I still love him. But it's not meant to be. He doesn't deserve all this, and I know someday he will find someone who will love him better than I can, who will not let him go as easily as I did. We are over, but the memories will always remain.

I hold your hand in mine, in mine when I'm asleep.

That aside, I am immensely thankful for the few angels in my life, there in my darkest hour and time of need.

Jen, thanks for everything. For listening, and distracting me when I needed to be, bringing me for bouts of retail therapy, staying over and providing me with a pillar of support when I needed it most.

Puan, you are always a source of comfort, no matter what. Even if I don't get to see you often, just talking to you makes me feel better because I know you care. And I don't think there's anyone that I poured out my heart to so much. Thanks for taking time out of your studying just to talk to me, and to listen.

Nina, you called despite being miles and miles away, and I appreciate that so much. I know you are going through a rough patch of your own now, and I want you to know that I will always be here, just as you always were for me. Don't let anyone get you down.

And to Jason and Justin, thanks for your concern and advice. It really makes a difference to know that you care.

As Jen said, I will come out stronger.