The Act of Love


It happened so fast. I was seated in the car with L when he suddenly broke the news. With a pregnant hesitation, L turned to me and in his somber voice, he finally said “My dad has cancer...” I felt my heart dropped.

L went on to explain about stage four cancers but I could barely listen to what he was telling me. My eyes had begun to well up and I tried to fight back the tears. “You have to be strong for him, what’s wrong with you!” I summoned myself. Suddenly the image of my own father came to mind and I thought about the painful time when he was diagnosed with hepatitis. L went on, “It’s actually a miracle that he’s alive now... Doctors said he only had six months to live...but he’s outlived that”.

And although I have only met L’s father once briefly, I vividly remembered the time L introduced me to him. L’s father had a very firm handshake. He seemed quiet and stern. We didn’t talk for long and I don’t him well enough to speak much of him. He wasn’t someone close to me yet there I was fighting back the tears. “Be strong! You have to!” I kept reprimanding myself, as I pretended to turned away from L and hastily wiped my cheek.

Up till then, I had never fully understood L; his erratic mood swings and temperament, why he’d end up drinking detrimental shots of whisky soda, why he’d call me at wee hours of the morning, and why he’d go to church, religiously every Saturday and Sunday. On the exterior, L was tough and macho, who had the pride of your typical alpha male and wasn’t apt to expressing his emotions and feelings.

Yet he was always there when I needed him. He was and still is a good friend; whose shoulder I would cry on whenever I had problems. L is also one of the boys (actually he’s the only guy) I call when I’m feeling frustrated be it about work or over shopping for clothes. And although I turned him down as the significant other for now, (I have not rule out anything in the future) L is very dear to me. He was my confidant. Now I am his confidant. He had finally opened up to me.

All these times I never understood what L was going through; all the pain, hurt, grief, anger and the bottled up emotions. But I could withhold no longer, and the tears came rolling down like trickles of rain and no matter how I chided myself for being a baby and screaming inside my head, it just would not stop.

At this, I reached for L’s hand and held it as tight as I could.

I wanted to reassure L how everything would be alright and that all will be good. I wanted to embrace him and say how wonderful of a son I think he is. I wanted to say to him how strong I thought he was in coping with all of it, I wanted to tell him that I was crying for him and that I understood what he was going though, yet nothing came out and all I could do was hold his hand and sob like a child.

L’s love for his father moved me dearly. He put aside everything including pride for his father. That is selfless love. When dire events happen to a loved one, we always question “Why me?” It is only natural as we’re all human and wonder of all the six and a half billion people on earth, why did it not happen to Ah Kong, or John Smith.

Yet I have always believed that everything happens for a reason and it is through the experience of unexpected events in our life that we grow to learn and appreciate ourselves and our loved ones more. In that way, we become better persons, not just to ourselves but others too. We become selfless and altruistic, putting others’ needs even before our own, even when we are hurting. And I saw it in L.

As I pulled my hand from L’s to brush my wet cheeks, I muttered “Have faith L, it’s hard I know but everything happens for a reason.” Slowly, the car pulled to a stopped, I hugged him and whispered “Take care”.

IT's ALL about the money.


Midweek. I always dread midweek. It’s neither here nor there. Not black or white. Just grey, very grey. As a pretty structured person, I detest the idea that something could be vague and ambiguous. Unfortunately it annoys and frustrates me when things become very grey and we become borderless, vulnerable and helpless. I call it the Grey syndrome. I wiki (wikipedia) the colour grey and this was what I found.

…“In a moral sense grey is either used ,pejoratively to describe situations that have no clear moral value, …Grey is associated with autumn, bad weather and sadness… “

I have been having the worst of weeks at work. My punters have been doing a tremendous amount of deals away and my numbers are simply weak and pale in comparison to my competitors. On top of that, I am getting heavier, (I was five kilos lighter) my liver is suffering from the 10 months (and counting) of alcohol intoxication and my ass is getting bigger from that 12 hour of sitting in an office chair. The most upsetting part is that despite all these the physical brutalisation, my salary has remained unchanged.

Outsiders, who have heard of my job, assume that I am paid “shit loads”. But the truth is far from it. I am getting, as my Lao ban says “fark all”. Lately, I have been extremely disgruntled with work only because I feel shortchanged and undervalue. Half a year ago, I would be really sharp and on my toes, nothing down every single price we had. As well to do as we all maybe, realistically the moola still counts.

Do you mean to say I traded in my blue kebaya for this abusive, putting-on-weight, liver killing job for less that I was getting before? It’s such a tough industry, on hindsight; I sometimes wonder why I had traded the glamourous uniform for this.

I don’t feel motivated anymore. Nothing drives me anymore. On the outside, I may giggle and laugh like a little wind-up doll but after seeing the figures my Lao ban sent me, I seriously feel like tendering my resignation tomorrow. I’ve never felt so drained.

There’s so much I wish to write and grumble about, and explain the other job offers I have, offering me twice my moola (Which I carelessly turned down) But I’m feeling so exhausted, I can’t bring myself to type another word. As I type, my eyelids feel like they weigh a ton, and I’m only feeling like this because I’m upset and want to sleep my worries away.

I’m sorry. I'm down with the grey syndrome. Good night.

JUST FOR YOU

1984- The year I came to this world.

1988- Learnt the art of socialising

1990- Met my best friend

1993- First crush

1994- Another crush

1996- Realised maths wasn't my thing

1997- Realised maths WAS my thing

1998-First "official boyfriend"

1999-Learnt a new language

2000-Learnt I love to write

2002-My first love

2003-First cut

2004-Travelled the world

2005-Entered a beauty pageant

2006-New job, new boys (haha)

2007- New blog