Even the class clown cries.

Ironic how the first entry of the new year is some pathetic, morose entry about the past and an issue I thought I'd never raise again. The more pan-tang (superstitious) peeps would probably say it does not bode well to start the new year on a negative note. But strictly speaking I never started the year morose though it was a little disheartening on a totally separate issue which shall not be addressed. More importantly, I've never given a damn about stupid superstitions and I'll be damned if my blogging is determined by anything other than the urge to write, let alone some lame ass superstitious crap.

Writing, when the urge to do so arises, has always been kinda therapeutic to me. The act of putting my thoughts (be they rantings, musings or random stuff) to paper (figuratively speaking of course) and crafting sense from inchoate thoughts, a satisfaction of sorts. Writing also exorcises the demons within, burning thoughts and emotions that seethe and roil within until expunged by writing about the same. And there they remain a snap shot in time, the intensity of thoughts and emotions alike as palpable as the day I first wrote it. For better or worse.

I write not to entertain. I write not to titillate. It matters not to me whether you read what I write or hate what I write. I write because I need to.

I'd always figured I'd moved on from Sean. I still do in a way. The memory of his face has grown fuzzy with time, the many pleasant memories of times we spent together a distant warm yet faded glow somewhere in the inner recesses of my mind. Thoughts of him would no longer come unbidden to my mind. On the contrary, apart from the occasional moments where I'd consciously wonder what he's doing now, Sean was never on my mind. It'd progressed to the extent that I was even comfortable with chatting amicably with him on msn, something which would have been unthinkable a year ago.

It's not like we became best friends (Ex-es to me, no matter how hard I try [and I must confess I've never tried very hard] always remain exes ). I can count the number of times we chatted on MSN n exchanged a couple of smses on one hand. So it was inexplicably frustrating and upsetting when I felt like utter crap after he told me he was attached. I can honestly say I was happy (of sorts) for him, there was no rancour, ill will or bitterness. I was genuinely happy that he had found someone else. But that didn't explain why I felt (and still do to a lesser extent) like shit. I mean I have no reason to feel this way.

I've never really wanted to conduct a post-mortem dissection of the relationship or how to move on from there. As far as I was concerned, moving on was all that mattered and all I really wanted. Some bones, if any, are best left buried. Though perhaps in hindsight I'd never dug further for fear of finding what I'd find.

It's been almost 2 years and I'm pretty sure I've moved on. I just don't quite like the place I've moved into. Not that moving back is/was ever an option of course. That bridge was burnt long ago. I know all the benefits of singlehood, I repeat them like a mantra everytime just to convince myself when I feel the dissatisfaction creeping in. Freedom, more time to hang with friends, the lack of responsibilities and obligations, you name it, I've probably thought about it. But knowing something and feeling it is entirely different.

And right now I'm feeling it ain't so fun to be single. I guess I've always been the kind of person who prefers to have a partner, someone to share your life with, to love, laugh with and hold. Looking back, with the exception of the initial hormonal exploratory years, I've never been single for more than 6 months at a stretch. 2 years is an eternity. Not that I'll be hooking up for the sake of hooking up. If that was the case, I'd have done so at least a year ago after emerging from the self-imposed hiatus. Hooking up for the sake of being with someone whom you're not even attracted to is a recipe for disaster and simply retarded.

Seeking solace in the arms of a stranger is all very nice and dandy if you're looking for ONS but not for a relationship. A terrible relationship is worse than being single for sure. Still, it's scant comfort at this moment. It's not everyday that you get to see a nice gay guy who attracts you (settle that part and you can at least work on the latter), in fact, it's damn rare. And the sad truth is that I'm not even remotely attracted to any of the guys I've met thus far. It's even sadder that some were attracted but the attraction could never be requited.

Things would be a lot easier if I were one of those peeps content and happy to remain in perpetual singlehood. I'm not. I hate it. But I'm not going to hook up with any guy for the sake of hooking up simply because the guy wants to be in a relationship & I want a partner. Relationships founded on convenience or pity can never last. Logically speaking, a person in my situation would be better off and should be happier staying single. But knowing something and feeling it are very different. And since when were matters of the heart logical?

I've always found this song from the lyrics to the tune hauntingly melancholic. Not really appropriate now but does it matter?

One of Us - ABBA




They passed me by
All of those great romances
You were, I felt
Robbing me
Of my rightful chances
My picture clear
Everything seemed so easy
And so I dealt you the blow
One of us had to go
Now it's different
I want you to know

One of us is crying
One of us is lying
In her lonely bed
Staring at the ceiling
Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin')
One of us is lonely
One of us is only
Waiting for a call
Sorry for herself
Feeling stupid
Feeling small
Wishing she had never left at all

I saw myself
As a concealed attraction
I felt you kept me away
From the heat and the action
Just like a child
Stubborn and misconceiving
That's how I started the show
One of us had to go
Now I've changed
And I want you to know

One of us is crying
One of us is lying
In her lonely bed
Staring at the ceiling
Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin')
One of us is lonely
One of us is only
Waiting for a call
Sorry for herself
Feeling stupid
Feeling small
Wishing she had never left at all
Never left at all

Staring at the ceiling
Wishing she was somewhere else instead (no one else is achin' with a heart that's breakin')
One of us is lonely
One of us is only
Waiting for a call
Sorry for herself
Feeling stupid
Feeling small
Wishing