TK and I broke up 3 months ago.

It’s been quite a long time, and I never thought it necessary to like, write a blazing ad about it mostly because I felt very protective towards our relationship. (If i cannot find someone in another 9 months or so like Keju, i might consider paying Nuffnang to put up banners for me. Or Keju and i can advertise for each other. Or date each other, though highly unlikely.) And i lazy to explain the story which is longer than a carton of cutie compact rolls.

A lot of people have guessed, because I never blog about him anymore. But a lot of people have not a clue. Every now and then people asked me “when are you going to Japan to visit him again?” and I would force a brave bitter smile and say, “we broke up awhile ago”, feeling a poignant stab in my heart.

But finally I decided to write abit about it, though I have a feeling that it will end up not just “a bit”, but a massive bit. And of course i am writing this on a lonely Saturday night while listening to Yuna Ito’s for full tragic effect.

Anyway, because people’s shocked expression pains me and I don’t wanna see it anymore and also I think not saying anything about it is putting my potential future love life in a gloomy waste bin that’s never gonna see another daylight again. So here you are.

We broke up when I came back from Japan last July, two weeks earlier than my intended schedule. Something happened, but neither of us did anything wrong. When I dragged my sad sorry ass back to Malaysia, I thought that was the end of it.

But the next week, he bought a ticket all the way from Osaka to KLIA just so he could hear me say it to his face in person.

And as always, it never worked like that. It really takes a heartless bitch to say bugger off it’s over to someone who flies 7 hours just to hear you say it. And I attempted to be a heartless bitch, very unsuccessfully.

During his summer break, he came to see me again. He could have chosen to go to the beach with some hot Japanese girls in bikinis in Yokohama or whatever. But he flew another 7 hours to Malaysia. For four days. That is some sincerity of a heart I couldn’t afford to break.

We kept in touch pretty often after that. When he was back here, we hung out. We were seen together all the time, and that is why no one has assumed that we broke up.

Now you say that’s a really complicated relationship. No, it is not complicated at all. I loath the term “it’s complicated” because one, it’s trademarked by Friendster or whatever, second, I hate to reduce a relationship that I valued so much to something like “it’s complicated”. That’s a disgrace to whatever we have had together.

There’s nothing complicated about it’s complicated. Either you are together but somehow not really together, or, not really together but somehow together. Either way it sounds like the same thing to me. So it’s not complicated.

When I write this, I don’t want people to tell me encouraging stories and tell me it’s okay, cheer up, or how they successfully survived a rocky relationship and is now happy and content, or tips for LDR, or shit like that. And I don’t want people to tell me that distance doesn’t matter, age doesn’t matter race doesn’t matter money doesn’t matter or whatever doesn’t matter. Because every inch and mm of whatever you think doesn’t matter does matter.

It mattered.

Distance was one that killed us. Cultural difference was another. And then there was family, principle in life, etc etc. Both of us did so much we could do until there was nowhere, not a single spot on our relationship map where we could point and say “look, this is where we could go”, or “hey, let’s try here, which we have not been!” or even “do you feel like going back there?”.  It was a fucking maze we couldn’t find a way across, through, around, or back at it.

I can’t say he hasn’t made enough effort. He has. So much it pains me just to think that it wasn’t going to change anything. Both of us knew that it was hard since the beginning. We argued so many times just because of silly miscommunications. Or like foreign things we didn’t understand about each other. We had a huge argument over the nuances of a Japanese word one day, resulting in him storming off middle of the night and me kicking the bed and hurting my knee in the process.

Another day over lunch he tactfully brought up the subject of sending me back home. He said that he was quite upset that every time he dropped me off, I just walked off straight into my apartment. I was like ??????????????????????? wtf appalled

And then I found out that in Japan, every girl will wait at the door and wave like a clock with a crazy-frog-like big smile until the car disappears into distance. That’s basic courtesy to whoever sends you home.

Then, I explained to him that in such an almost, but not quite entirely undangerous country like Malaysia, it is the complete opposite. You have to see the girl walk into the door (if necessary give her a call and make sure she didn’t faint or break her nail in the elevator or something), disappear then only drive off.

And this is just one of the many many many many misunderstandings that have happened in the past one year. Sometimes it took us months to figure it out. And sometimes we never do.

We cared for each other so much that we fell sick twice because we fell sick when were taking care of each other when either one was sick.

I always wonder how do couples break up when falling out of love was not the reason. How do you?

When we broke up, it was really hard to reach a conclusion as to how our future relationship should be like. We faltered between saying stupid things to make each other hate ourselves to make things easier, to saying nice sweet things to each other (which made it harder, really), and to staying cool (oh lets be friends), to crying non stop because it pained us so fucking much to let it go.

i felt like a 16 year old again. i didn’t know how to deal with it. i dont think break up is something you can learn how to do. There isn’t a proper way to do it. You can grow up and stop yelling at each other stupid and immature stuff, but you cannot learn how to not make the other person sad, or yourself sad, or cure a heartbreak in a heartbeat.

And we don’t know if we should keep in touch. it pains us to talk to each other, and it pains us to not talk to each other. whichever way it was die die both ways. it is easier to get dumped, really. i think i would prefer to get dumped. than to have to make a choice. at least i wont spend every single second thinking what if i regret it. at least getting dumped is easy. you just cry and get over it.

I then talked to a friend. He says,  if we are in a dilemma hurt, clueless and not knowing what do to,  the hard way is usually the way out.

Sounds like something that could possibly be what we called the truth.

The day before I left Osaka, we had the most amazing day out. i dressed up nicely, we went to Aruru to cancel our Tokyo trip (which we so looked forward to. Sad), and then went shopping because i had so much extra cash i didn’t need anymore. Went grocery shopping and i bought tons of mentaiko stuff. And then we went searching for Fugu for dinner but sadly no restaurant had it because it was summer and so gone my dream of dying romantically of Fugu poison together in an Izakaya with my lover. And then we went to pachinko, lost quite a lot of money, and then went for purikura and took really nice photos. And then played some games and UFO and i caught a snack thingie he wanted.

And then we went up to the mountain. He bought me grilled tarako and mentaiko and cheese&bacon onigiri to choose from. They were  from 7-11. Because i couldn’t eat properly at dinner after what happened.

We sat down on the edge of our transparent umbrella because the grass was cold and wet. We then just gazed silently at the city beneath us. That was when he told me he wanted to marry me next year.

The mountain was tragically magnificent. All those misfortunes that had happened just seemed to magnify under a pale beautiful moonlight. It was too cold for a summer night.

And then I my tears just came rolling down because I realized how much I love this place and how fucking beautiful it was.

But everything will always have to come to an end. Especially good things. And sometimes it is for the better.

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