There is a reason why I’m so melodramatic. If you look at the 4 humors theory of personality, I would be like 90% melancholic. But not only that, I, like a lot of adults trying to make it in the world, have numerous unresolved childhood issues. No, I don’t mean childhood issues like mommy didn’t buy me an iphone and I can’t hang out with the cool kids. I mean issues like sexual abuse when you’re 12 (the tender age when puberty just started and you’re friggin conscious of your body) and attachment issues. So yeah, please pardon me for the stupid sappy tale of woe you’re going to read.
I was never in love. I only had crushes through my young adult life. One started because he was nice to me, when in fact, he was just that, nice to me. I took it so out of proportion that I had a 6-year long crush that ended bitter for me and awkward for him. I had another one on freshmen year in IIUM, Gombak. This crush didn’t last as long as the first one, because soon he had a girlfriend and ironically, it crushed me. I decided I’m going to die alone or commit suicide by the age of 35. Might as well, I thought. I was too damaged to be functional, to feel belonged and loved. In a way, I was comfortable with that. I won’t be a bother to anyone. I was 20. I felt old. Like I was going to die soon.
I have this guy I know though. A friend I met also in freshmen year, a different kuliyyah. We met through some club under CiTRA. CiTRA rocks by the way. Without any effort, we were buddies, like we’ve known each other for years. We were passionate about the same thing that became our binding for a great friendship; music. We also love a bunch of other stuff, but music was the sole factor that made us close and relatable. I know we’re not the only two who loves this specific genre of music, but he was the first I got to know of personally. Both of us were from humble background. We’ve never had musical training nor was exposed to it in the first place. We found it ourselves, me through books and him through video games.
I was 20 and had mild depression. Remember the suicide thoughts? They were almost real. I was lucky because after talking to a friend, she and other friends helped me although they had no idea how to help a suicidal person. They were clueless, but because I saw their effort, I tried my best to stop. He sensed something was wrong too, he didn’t help as much, but it was sufficient for me to get into remission. It lasted for only 6 months, and I was okay again. Still very depressive, but not suicidal.
2 years passed and our friendship grew closer. Something weird happened but I didn’t acknowledge him. I mean, I did had a little crush on him but I didn’t want to go there again. I would always assume his type of girl is the girly girl, or better, the muslimah type. Tudung labuh and solat 5 waktu. Not the type yang sinsing lengan baju, belch in public, loud and curses macam mulut terlebih insurans. No, I dismiss him that he’s like the other guys, who would only like me as a friend. I am one of the guys. I kinda like that to be honest. I was okay with it. But I was hecking bamboozled. He didn’t say explicitly that he likes me, but lord did he showed it so awkwardly. He never had a girlfriend because like me, he’s a social awkward who laughs at the wrong thing. he didn’t know what he was doing. And should it had been any other girl, he would got rejected and labeled as a creep. Creeps turns me on. Remember, I am dysfunctional. I don’t react to stimulus correctly. Thank my parents.
It took a year for us to reconcile what was going on. I sat him down and had a really awkward talk about feelings stuff. We decided that we may have like each other more than friends. That night I can’t sleep. I don’t know how to feel about this. I was happy, then I cried out of confusion. The following weeks to come saw me dazed and distorted. This wasn’t what I expected to happen at all. I’m supposed to have the crush. People are not supposed to have a crush on ME. I’m repulsive, I wasn’t made to be loved. Life had made sure I was so broken that my pieces would never be found. No one wants to play with a broken doll. They are just chucked away in a ditch. I saw an old teddy bear right outside Gate 3 once. Sad and lonely and wet in the rain. I was going to take it with me the next time I passed through but it was gone the next day. Either someone took it and keep it, or dispose it for good. Either way, it ended the sad teddy bear’s misery.
Fast forward and I was 23, college senior with graduation anxiety. Finding a job was not a must for me, it was the only option. I cannot go back to my parents, that was not an option. I need to find my own place and get a job to bloody pay for it. We were already a couple, me and him. Unlike other couples who started strong with the terms of endearment and money spent on dates and gifts, we started real slow. We didn’t have terms of endearment until 3 years into the relationship. Dates? What is that and how do we do it? I just like being around him, studying, watching funny videos or just talking and having dinner.
If he had not accept me the way I am, I wouldn’t fall in love as much as this with him. I talked to him once, and several times, that I was bad for him. I warned him. Before he was deep into the relationship, I straight up told him I came from a bad background. That I hate my family and I wish to never have one. I didn’t want kids, because I won’t know how to raise one, and I was afraid I would copy my parent’s ways. I have issues i don’t want him to handle. But he said he didn’t mind. he can handle it. So, some nights came and my anxiety kicks in. I called him and to my surprise, he didn’t turn me away. Some days he almost did, because it was too hard. But he came back, and he was there to soothe me. My night demons had a warrior and I wasn’t alone anymore. Had he not had done this, I would never decide that he was the one. I would never had decide that maybe, a family with him is possible. That kids with him is possible. His gentleness and forgiveness was what I need. I thought he deserves to be happy because he was kind, and I would be honored to make him happy.
For the first time. I didn’t want to die. For the first time since I was 12, I didn’t want to end my life.
I want to be with him and helped him be happy, with a family and hobbies he loves. I want to serve him, because serving him makes me happy. I was never happier. Everybody can see it. Everybody at work saw what it’s like when they started to inquire me about him. I lit up, they say. I wouldn’t realise how happy I was too, until I saw pictures of us together. I never smiled that way with other people. I also saw new things about myself. That I was normal, that I can be loved. I can feel belonged. You have no idea how big of a deal it is. I never felt I belong anywhere. I thought I was born in the wrong dimension. But heck no, I was in the right time and space with the right person. I saw that I can be feminine. I cooked for him, cared for him like only a woman can. We are not both working adults, albeit long-distance. He is way in the south and I am at the capital. We meet now and then, but whenever he’s gone, I would feel empty. We promised to each other that we’ll make it. We’ll get married and live together. Then it’ll be perfect. I mean, that’s awesome! This is my break! I never had someone to love until now, I never had a family and boy do I want to have one with, of all people, him. It’s going to be great!
I deserve a break, I always say. I’ve been miserable for so long. This is my happy ending. I didn’t believe in true love until he said that I was his. He was as happy as I am with him. We were made for each other. I love him. I can think how we are true love. Not just because we’re comfortable with each other. We do fight occasionally, but it’s never long. Not just because we share a lot of things. Not just because we never had lovers before, but because when we were always there for each other through thick and thin. We had more hard times and good times, especially at this distance. He also never gave up on me after my numerous breakdowns. He never saw it as something bad that he has to live with. He saw it as my strength and that we was always proud and admired me for being this strong. He believes in me more than I believe myself. Did I also mention that after being with him, I started to eat more healthily and take better care of myself? I want to live again, for him. The hypothesis that we are true love is also acceptable when we consider that he can love me with and without the lust. Like many young people in love, we crave for each other. But he was a gentleman, he respected me, although it would nice for him to do otherwise. Merely being with each other was enough for now and makes both of us happy.
So, I told you guys about how I have legit childhood issues, that I can’t let things go and I grew up socially-retarded. Despite that, I found a boyfriend, who was a best friend. And we were so close together, so comfortable. He was to be my first and last lover. He was that special. And we were working to be together. We want to get married and live together. That way, I can take care of him and him me. We’re currently in two different parts of Malaysia, in a long-distance relationship. It’s hard, some days are harder than the other and I would feel like giving up. But every time, he would console me otherwise and I apologises.
This would be my break, I thought. I was abused repeatedly and never had a good human relationship which I feel belonged and loved until I met him. This is it, this is my happy ending. It looks and sounds so logical it has to make sense. God is not that cruel, is He? He won’t just taunt me with the only good thing in my life only to snatch it back like a dollar bill on a string, right?
Oh, if only we were that simple. I envy those couples who can get married not just at a young age, but after knowing the partner merely a year or less than a year. If you know the guy since you’re 15 and got married at 22, I can understand that. But if you know the guy for 8 months and decided to marry him right after graduating, I would feel a little uneasy. But who cares how I feel. Mazel Tov anyway.
We’re 4 years into the relationship now. My parents met him. I had the fear that they might reject him but they were okay, only dad wants a hefty sum of money to sell me off like a priced cattle. Which of course we don’t have. He had been working double shifts 7 freaking days a week to afford the dowry. And his dad doesn’t help either. That old man has issues of his own. He never feeds his family right and my boyfriend often grew up in scarcity. At least his mum and siblings were very supportive.
Our challenge now is marriage, which comes harder than most people. We need money (which won’t be for us, and we don’t need it), and we need approval from the very people we’re trying to run away from. The very people who knew us the least, the people who has no rights to authorise us because we had break away from their tyranny and supported ourselves. Of all people, they are the last people we know to approve of each other’s choices. His dad hates me for some reason better left unsaid, his mum doesn’t. But in a patriarchal family unit, the mum can support him marrying a whore for all she care but the dad has the final say.
I envy those married couples. I don’t know if my happy ending would be possible or not. Just to reiterate, he was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Letting him go wouldn’t be easy. I’ll think of something, but if push comes to shove, I have to let go. I would be miserable and depressive again. Maybe I’ll have the old thoughts back, greeting me like an old friend.
It is better to love and lost than never to have loved at all, said Tennyson. I agree. At least I feel what it’s like. At least I can tell people “I had a true love once. It was magical”. It’ll be the one greatest chapter in my life. Even if I grew old or found someone else, I would look back to him and smile.
What we have was true love. And like many true love, they rarely ends happy.
– Sarah
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