Bruce seems to have this knack of calling me the minute I am feeling that little bit more sane and just making me upset about our breakup all over again.

I left the yummy kebaby mummy’s place feeling a little more chirpy only to get a call from him.

He keeps saying he’s hurting too. He keeps saying he still loves me - he loved me as a girlfriend but not as a wife.

But really - you don’t hurt the person you love. Nor do you give up on them.

And he did both.

So excuse me for not being inclined to believe him.

Which of course makes him annoyed. And makes him tell me that he loves having me around… yet he doesn’t want to be with me for the rest of his life? What the hell does that mean? Seriously?

Honestly, I’m at the stage where I think that he does not even have a clue about how much I love him. He has no idea about the depth of my feelings. Which is why it really, really hurts to hear him say he loves me yet do all this crap which contradicts what he supposedly feels.

It’s all about how HE made the decision. Which sounds painfully patriarchal - which is not the Bruce I know. The Bruce I know is all about treating people fairly. He makes sure things are fair and amend things when they are not.

Just not in this scenario.

He could not even give us a chance. Not one chance. 4 years and 8 months did not mean enough for him to try and salvage it.  God Nadia, how could you love a man you meant absolutely nothing to? You idiot.

He keeps saying he hasn’t had enough sleep. What about me? What about the fact that the last three weeks have seen my motivation spiral - I lost my appetite (and consequently nearly blacked out at the gym), I’ve lost interest in work, I’ve lost the impetus to get off my butt and work out. Nothing seems worthwhile any more because my life has suddenly lost all meaning and logic.

My god. This pain. I would not wish it on my worst enemy because it has truly shattered my core and really shaken up my self-esteem and my self-belief.

It’s  not just about the immediate heartache but the damage to the future me. The fact that the next man to come into my life will not have the same luxury Bruce has had - the unconditional trust, the unreserved expressions of love. No more because this hurt has raised the barriers and made the heart cynical.

I nearly snorted at work today. My manager said that if she was in my shoes, she would not have gone ahead with the party and that she thus thinks that I have amazing inner strength. God. If she could only listen to everything going through my mind right now. She’d surely change her mind.

I don’t think he truly gets how much hurt he’s caused - and I’m not sure he even cares. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even give a toss if I stopped contacting him. He’d just not bother trying to contact me and say that he didn’t think I wanted him to call. I don’t think he’ll care if I completely disappeared from his life.

As morbid as this sounds, I really do want to slip into a coma right now. My heart is in this strange hell. It’s aching from how much I miss Bruce and how much I wish we were still together.  It’s consumed by anger for what he’s done to me, what he’s reduced me to. It is poisoned by cynicism. And it feels like it’s tearing at the seams from all the hurt that it is having trouble containing.

Someone. Something. Anybody. Anything. Just please release me from this pain.

People told me I was crazy for still going ahead with it. We’d broken up, everyone would understand if you called it off they said. People would think you were desperate to have him back, some even suggested.

But my stubborn streak put its foot down and insisted on moving forward. Even though I am usually concerned with what people think. Even after a sudden change in venue left me mostly in charge of cooking for 30 RSVPed guests - which turned out for the best because it meant I was free to do more things.

It didn’t matter that it was bigger than Ben Hur - mostly because I’d never organised a party, let alone a surprise one at the guest of honour’s own home.

He was completely shell shocked by the sudden mass of people at his house. He loved the food that I had shredded my own fingers over.  He even laughed at the Happy 30th Birthday banner (thanks a bunch, missy!!! :p). And he really really loved the presents.

It was all worth it because he was happy.

And that’s all I wanted.

It’s been nearly three weeks. I’ve heard the reasons, I’ve tried to understand the rationale and I’ve cried so much trying to fathom it all that I think my eyes have lost that sparkle.

It still seems so senseless to me. And I don’t think it’ll ever NOT be senseless to me.

Because we still love each other. And didn’t they always say love conquers all?

Rainbows always seem to lift my mood. I don’t know, there’s something uplifting about seeing a rainbow after a horribly dreary day that always makes a little smile form on my face as I marvel the colours streaked across the sky.

Over the last week or so, I’ve noticed more rainbows on the horizon. Which normally would  not be a big deal seeing how rainbows are natural phenomena. But I think I’ve seen more rainbows this week than I did last year.

AND… I’ve been seeing them at the SAME TIME and SAME PLACE.  It’s always as I’m driving to work, half groggy and half wishingI was still in bed. And it’s always at the same spot along the freeway.

Is this a sign of things to come, I wonder.

God works in mysterious ways.

I was feeling really down this afternoon at work about stuff when I received an email. It was an update from a friend about her life. And reading about it made me realise, just how thankful I should be that the break up, regardless of how painful it is, was relatively uncomplicated.

I feel sorry for my friend. And I feel bad that it is her misfortune that is making me chin up that little bit. But my god it’s made me realise that there’s more out there.

It’s ridiculously difficult to try and regain normalcy when you’re constantly pelted by shards of negativity.

Please. Spare me the judgemental comments, the name calling, the looks of disappointment. It is not helping. And it doesn’t make me want to confide in you.

I am not stupid. I know enough about myself to know what I need to do. So please, just back off before you push me over the edge completely.

I was forced into it.

So it was bad enough that he chose to break us up without even talking to me about our problems. It still stings but I was dealing with it ok.

Until this evening. He did the one thing I told him NOT to do.

It was simple. All I asked was that he did not change his status on Facebook. I didn’t want tohandle all the questions from people who knew us until I felt strong enough to do so.

He promised he would leave it to me.

No prizes for guessing what he did today.

So now I have people who are not even close to me asking me if I am ok. Asking me what happened. And I cannot handle it. It still hurts talking about our break up - I am NOT READY to handle all this.

I cannot remember the last time I was so enraged. The yummy mummy, who’s been a constant companion since the break up, even said that she’s not seen me this mad since it all started.

It’s bad enough that he broke up with me. The way he broke up with me was so horrendous that the only way he could have topped it was to have a new girlfriend by his side when he did it.

And the only thing worse than the way he broke up with me was the timing at which he chose to break up with me.

I tried to do the mature adult thing - I still gave giving friends a shot. What can I say - when it comes to the people I love, regardless of how much they hurt me, I will still fight to the death for them.

But he’s pushed me. He really has. He hurt me by ending us. He hurt me by not mourning about us but celebrating his single life. He hurt me by not even giving us another chance.

And now he’s completely killed me. Because not only am I hurting now… but I honestly doubt I will be able to love anyone again. After all, can you blame me, when he still hurt me even though he claimed to still love me? I cannot even fathom how I will be able to trust my heart with another man again.

If you asked me this afternoon, if I would still get back together with Bruce, I would have smacked you silly and said that I’d do it in a heartbeat.

But now, it will take nothing short of a miracle to undo all this hurt, let alone to even make me consider going back to him.

There’s a fine line between being concerned and being nearly insanely paternalistic/maternalistic.

Certain people need to give me more credit. It’s insulting that they don’t know me better.

For god’s sake, anyone who knows me know that I’m a calculated risk taker. In poker, I’d be the player who’d fold at the first sign of trouble, regardless of my hand. I analyse till I drive myself crazy before I make my decisions.

SO. Even if it is a mistake… you can bet your jolly boots that I’m well aware of the consequences and that I’m at least willing (if not, adept) at handling them.

So… I skipped the gym today because my tummy was feeling icky. Or at least, that’s the story I’m sticking to!

On the way home, however, I got the irrepressible urge to cook.

It started innocently enough. First I wanted tau pok. Because I was too lazy to cut up pineapple, cucumber and too lazy to look for sengkuang.

But then I saw the char kway and I remembered a special type I tried in Johor once. So I decided to make that too.

And then, I went up to the IGA to grab some apples (supposedly for the tau pok). But then I saw the cabbage and carrots, so I decided to make spring rolls. Even though it meant having to go back to the Asian grocery shop to get spring roll skins.

And all that… was my dinner. Burp.

Oh… and a special photo for the yummy kebaby mummy. Hehe.

I’m mad. But I’m still mad about him.

Couldn’t find an embeddable music video of the song… so here’s a cool acapella/remix version to make up for it: