The Invisible Man

Another year.

Another break-up.

Is it even possible to maintain a monogamous relationship in this day and age?

I was in a serious relationship for 4 months, 2 of which I spent half drunk and half not bothered and the rest I spent sober with heated arguments. I used to think I loved this guy, but as the time ticked away, I could not see a future with him.

When I'm in a relationship, I would dream of a future with the man I'm with, an apartment in Damansara Heights, a bed together, a car which we can't afford because of our measly salaries, a wedding in Canada during autumn. At this point I need to remind you readers, that yes I do have a dick and a pair.

With Lester (not his real name), I could not see anything. Sometimes I would think to myself, why am I with him? Feelings for him are there, but I don't think I would go to the extent of calling it "love". Then I thought to myself, why should I spend time with a guy I don't love? Is it because I'm already used to his presence?

I needed time to figure out, so I did a one week trial where I hardly contacted him and analyzed our relationship from every angle possible. After what seemed like hell throughout the week of him trying to pick fights with me and me not communicating with him, I decided it was time to end things.

He decided to bring everything I left at his place back to me, which was initially my fault as I did tell him I wanted things to be black and white, my things are mine and his things are his. I am a guy like that, I like lines to be drawn.

I did hurt him.

And I'm not proud of it.

As I looked into his eyes, I could see that he was burnt by me. I could tell by the way that he told me he was now dating other men.

Is it possible, through all my experiences of dating men, through all the experiences of getting hurt, through all the tears I spent crying over lost loves, are channeled through my new dating persona?

Someone wise once told me that through experience comes growth. But growth in a horizontal way, or vertically? Good or bad? Halal or non-halal?

With all these dating experiences tucked away in my pocket, have I turned into a soulless being who cannot feel the hurt of other people? Am I that jaded?

All I can think of aren't the answers, but instead;

How cliche to analyze oneself after break-ups.

I'm Not Dead...Yet.

It's been too long since my last posting and I've decided to give blogging another go.

Work with the UN is quite hectic and work never seem to end. But on a light note, surprisingly I got a letter from a refugee the other day with my name written on it. I almost never get snail mail and it was a pleasant surprise for me that day. The only catch is, I was not allowed to open it (in case it contained trace amounts of anthrax or unleash a new strain of herpes, etc), but still it was a little funny.

These past few months have been tiring. With less than a good ample 8 hours sleep a night, my eye bags have turned into humongous garbage bags. Trash anyone?

Ah right. I got a new tattoo as well. I'm quite sure a few people have seen it since I've been proudly parading it around with my sleeves rolled up in an awful fashion. It is fashion faux pas, but if you got it, flaunt it.

Things have been exciting these couple of days, with my ex-lecturer getting arrested under the Sedition (need I say stupid?) Act and groups having vigils and protests. I wish I had attended at least one, but being a silly gay boy, I went for my gym class instead.

I am also very proud of the Monash students for organizing the protest against WCH's arrest. Kudos to ML. I am upset at myself for not turning up for the event. Work is not an excuse, although it is mine.

The same day, during the Perak State Assembly, I could feel the electricity in the air as I was refreshing The Edge's website every 5 minutes to catch a good friend of mine posting updates live from Perak.

As I have not exactly been politically active these couple of months, I miss the adrenaline rush I used to get when going to protests and vigils; the air would suddenly turn cold when something was going to happen and you would not know what would happen until it hits you or when people start running. Bringing the "Protest Bag" consisting of small bags of salt, plastic bags, a towel and the Malaysian Flag.

Sigh.

The only consolence I have for myself is the thought that there is definitely more to come...