sadtuneslover

[sadtuneslover]

6. I can't catch a break

I have a deadline for one of my biggest projects due in September. Everything was going well until I received a message.

It was from Nay. 

She ghosted me 24 days ago. Now she came back with a message full of guilt trips. She said she was missing me, and played some victim cards to get my pity.

Give me a break!

I have started to forget about her and have begun moving on with life. Now this drama comes again?

Goddammit.

Girl, at least come back with some surprises! not the same old story: “I’m stuck, I miss you, I’m still thinking about you”, yada yada.

I know you are stuck. I know you miss me. I know you still think abut me. Just, don't remind me about it.

It brought down my morale. You took my already fleeting spirit down to almost zero. Thanks for that! Much needed in my already short deadline.

Instead of a mood booster from some interesting pictures, all I got was another self-defeating talk.

Worse, I already told her specifically not to do that.

Now some days and energies are wasted on this bullshit.

I wish she could understand what I feel.

But, why would I need to talk some sense to her? She has zero awareness of how I feel. Just come and go as she pleases. expecting some empathy when she gave none.

I can’t trust her not to bother my life anymore.

She sounded so hopeless, and I don’t want that attitude to get into my life.

I need to prevent this from happening again.

But first, I need to process all of this.

Sweetie, I love you, but your attitude is sucking up every bit of my soul. 

[sadtuneslover]

5. A cup of fresh, ground coffee

I woke up at 4 am today. I proceed to make coffee for myself. But before that, I ask my parents if they want some. 

They do.

I already know the drill—a spoonful of fresh Java beans per cup, sourced directly from our local farmers. Yes, you heard it right. I can get cheap fresh beans locally since I live in Java. Although inflation has been hiking up the bean price by 200–300% already. Damned droughts.

So I grind it using a robust, locally-made electric coffee grinder till it reaches medium coarse. Then, boil it for a couple of minutes at 90 degrees Celsius. I would love to use a French press, but our housemaid always broke it. It’s been the third time already. So off I go, using my new best friend for this task: an ordinary kitchen strainer. I learned that one can make decent coffee without expensive beans or specialty tools, although it does help. 

A 1:1 ratio of cream and milk for me.

No milk for my mom—only a spoonful of non-dairy creamer.

For my dad? A double dose of cream and milk.

My 6-cent-a-cup coffee tastes just as good as the ordinary $2 latte at most cafés.

For breakfast, I made myself a vegetable soup with slices of beef and some meatballs. Then I mix a spoonful of creamer, pure powdered milk, and ground roasted soy in a 1:1:1 ratio.

A hearty soup and a glass of hot milk with a good hint of nuts. A breakfast that would prepare me to take over the world.

Then I’m ready to go into my computer and start writing, then do a 20–50km bike ride when I’m done.

Nay always told me how much she dreamed about living with somebody with this kind of lifestyle and how much she admired me for being such a person! That girl used to have such high spirits and hopes. She told me that I was one of the biggest sources of inspiration for her.

She texted me a while ago:

Nay: “You know, every time you tell me about your cycling routine, it makes me fantasize. I kept imagining how you would wake me up in the morning, and take me for a bike ride in that beautiful countryside of yours.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s the the expectation. In reality, I would probably be this asshole drill sergeant that would push you until you feel like you’re breaking your legs.”

Nay: “Haha”

Nay: “(crying emoji)”

But she can only wish. She told me that her husband is such a fat slob who drives a car everywhere he goes, even if it’s just a few hundred meters away. Sweating is a foreign thing for him. A fat, ‘civilized’ desk jockey who doesn’t have much adventure left of him.

No wonder she dreamed of a long-haired, adventurous, and romantic type of person. My life appears to have become a big envy for many. 

Ha! If only they knew how many months I have to go without getting paid sometimes. A regular salaryman would have never understood it.

[sadtuneslover]

4. It’s getting boring here... 

The thing about texting someone you find interesting is that it requires extra energy to anticipate their reply. Nay is such a slow texter, and waiting for her reply requires a lot of energy. Especially when I already made a lot of effort to write multiple paragraphs of text just for her. Then, she just returned the text with multiple words that took hours to wait. Good god.

Talking to her is out of the question, so it only left me with either long romantic letter-style text or interesting pictures from her. It’s neither of those for now. This situation doesn’t have enough effort-to-fun ratio if nothing new comes up.

So, I made a conscious decision not to text her, and it turned out exactly like I thought: She texted slowly. And every time I see her message, it’s just a word or two. Nothing wild or interesting.

So I hit up one of my friends and watched a 3.5-hour-long classic German war movie about the U-boat submarine. It was fun. No stress, no long anticipation. Just pure fun.

Well, I wonder if Nay is going to pick this up. Maybe she’ll send something interesting soon or some provocative pictures; who knows.

Or maybe Stockholm syndrome will start to get into her. I don’t know.

Nay, I’m waiting for you. Surprise me with your wildest imagination. Cause I’m starting to get bored...

[sadtuneslover]

3. Why am I doing this?

I’ve been a disciplined person. I have proper time management and a clear mind. I wake up at 2–4 am with an unwavering amount of discipline to execute the amount of work I do. Uninterrupted. Efficient. I can finish a lot of work within a few hours. I finished working while the rest of the world just woke up.

But it all changed after Nay came back into my life. I'm not to blame her, but she’s the exact opposite of my life here. She can’t even breathe without an interruption. Her schedule is very inconsistent and haphazard. 

Eventually, her stress went into me as well. It’s been 3 days, and I’ve been as stressed as she is. 

When people think about an affair, it looks like the forbidden fun Hollywood has been portraying. 

But not with us, while for a moment, it was interesting. And yes, she sent me photos, although not exactly provocative.

It all changed after she spent 2 hours retelling how much she loved me in the past and such. Like, girl, please, I know how much you love me, and guess what?

You are married to someone else. You spend the majority of your time being the housewife they want you to be. What've you been bringing to me? A lot of uncertainty and a lot of brain space in my brain that I could’ve used for working. 

I mean, all this headache could be forgiven if one of these were true:

We are having ‘fun’. Like a guilty pleasure kind of fun.

You’re somebody with some hopes. Anything. Maybe you’re planning your way out. Maybe you take a look at the many possibilities ahead.

Fun? Ha! The only interaction we have is the slow text you always send while being interrupted constantly, resulting in a half-baked thought or long interval between the messages. and some occasional pictures. Which again… regular picture. We don’t even talk, spend time, or have any sort of fun.

And hope? You sound so helpless and defeated. The attitude I can’t afford to have in this phase of life. 

Why the hell am I doing this? 

*sigh*

Alright, maybe I need to take a deep breath. maybe I need to give her time. let’s see how it goes. 

But please, girl, for my sake, get your shit together.

I’m usually patient with women. 

But know your place: you’re a married woman. I have to move the bar really high to make it worth the trouble. Please understand.

[sadtuneslover]

2. A Kiss Goodnight

She texted me. 

“Nighty Night! ❤”

I don’t know whether her husband is home or not. Maybe he is, and she’s sneaking around when he’s in the bathroom or something. Or perhaps he’s not. 

I don’t know, but she texted again:

“I know you’re sleeping alone, but it’s way better than sleeping with somebody you feel empty to be with.”

“It’s like a dead body here. You sleep there, but it feels cold inside. No spark, no chemistry, nothing!”

“It’s like sleeping in a war zone. You can sleep, but the bed doesn’t exactly feel snug and warm.”

“You can barely get any sleep. The anxiety of having somebody I deem a stranger right next to me prevents me from being relaxed. ”

“Sometimes you can’t sleep at all, the reality is too much for me to accept.”

“You see, a happy and fulfilled person’s bed feels good. You go to bed every night and say to yourself, ‘That was a lot of things I did today; I’m finally retired to my cozy sack all by myself or my loved one.’ ”

“For them, the next day is a surprise. A new day, a fresh start, a redemption to some.”

“I dread the next day. Instead of a closer step toward my dreams, it’s a step away.”

“I feel like my old self dies slowly for every day that passed. Turning into a soulless, obedient, indentured domestic servant. Soon, probably even raising a kid for a man I don’t even look up to.”

My Lord, it must be depressing. 

I wonder what the sex feels like. To be at a moment’s notice for her husband whenever he wanted one. It’s demeaning enough to be ordered around by her in-laws to do a mountain of chores while being supervised 24/7.

And now she feels the burden of satisfying this man who essentially owned her? 

Does kissing him feel like kissing a wall?

What kind of clothes does she have to wear for him?

How does it feel to be naked in front of him?

Does she simply get used to the idea that her body is not hers anymore?

To sit down or lay down there naked for hours and let her body be his property for the meantime…

She probably has to endure the pain of seeing her body being used for something she doesn’t take pleasure in participating. She questions her current existence on how her life turned out to be like this. She still wants to go back to being the girl she once was. She wants a time machine so that she can go back in time and run with me. 

But alas, there is no time machine.

So she lays down there naked. She stares down at the ceiling with a thousand-yard stare and an expressionless face. She tries so hard to think about something else and escape her reality. 

Then, her imagination was interrupted by a sensation of a pair of hands touching all over her naked body.

Starting down from her upper thighs, up to her hips. Sliding slowly into her boobs. She feels a squeeze and a repeated kiss on her upper chest and neck. 

Then she feels something is inside of her. His body was all over her, and she went back to her imagination and lost track of the time.

At some point, it was finally over.

It all feels empty. Confusing. Conflicted. 

Perhaps sadness.

Can she even call it sex? It sounded like a rape to me.

Maybe it left her feeling dirty?

Like a whore?

But a whore gets paid, but she can't. Except for a creeping existential crisis and a life full of chores the next day.

A whore can choose to refuse a service, but she can't. Except the service to another man.

A whore can take a day off, but she can't. Except for a day off when she has to go to a place she doesn’t care about and fake a smile to everyone else.

Or does she?

Maybe when it was over, she just sat down there looking at the mirror showing her naked body. Not a feeling anymore. Doesn’t care. Saying to herself:

“This is me, this is my life, and this is my new identity.”

“I’m a mere object owned by someone else.”

“This body is not mine, and he may do whatever he wants with it.”

“May I just sit down here and be like this without being given clothes, I’m ok with it.”

“I’m just going to sit down here, sleep, wake up, do chores, eat, and live without clothes if he wants it.”

“Maybe I’ll be chained to the bed for the rest of my life and only be used as a tool to satisfy my owner’s needs.”

She’s not in a rush to get clothed. At this point, she already accepts it if she’s not given one at all. 

Ah, who am I kidding?

She’s a fighter. Despite a tired and almost defeated one.

She’s still expressing her hopes to me from time to time.

That just shows that she wants to be a full woman again.

And maybe someday she will. Who knows, Life is long and full of possibilities.

Ah, it’s getting late here. I have to wake up early cause I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Don’t forget that I have a life, too.

So I kissed her goodnight, despite a virtual one.

“I want to say a lot, but I have to sleep now. Stay strong, and hang in there, okay? Love you”

“Goodnight, darling ❤”

I guess that meant a lot since her real kiss felt like a brick wall.

[sadtuneslover]

1. A Visit from the past

Rejection hurts. But I understand it. I respect people’s preferences. My freedom to be with someone I want means their freedom to not be with me. We’re humans. We’re individuals. It’s our right to be alone or to be with somebody.

Until it doesn’t. You see? There are millions of people out there; their rights have been denied, their dreams have been shattered, and their freedom has been taken. 

The freedom to be with whomever they want, the dreams to pursue what fulfills them, and the right to think on their own, in this case.

I’m witnessing this mess right now. I’m telling you, there's nothing sadder than a lover who’s been denied the right to be together. It’s like Romeo and Juliet, except there is no heroism. Just pure sadness and agony, seeing someone so beautiful and talented, screaming in quiet desperation. Even her tears have to be hidden. There is no place to cry, in every literal sense of the word. Only a place to carve up a fake smile and suck up the indignity she has to suffer. Alone is not a word anymore; only loneliness is. A pair of judging eyes watch over her every time she breathes. Her life has essentially been given to somebody she never really cares about. 

It’s painful to see dreams shattered. 

A lifetime has gone by. 

A career aspiration is no longer a thing.

Hobbies? Hell, even time spent alone is a luxury.

Worst of all? She could’ve been mine. Poor girl, I have known her for a year. She never said anything. She just went away like that. I knew there was something off about her. But she proceeds to go with another man.

But I let it off for a while. I thought it was simply another rejection. I could deal with it. I’ve been rejected more times than I can remember. I’ve been abandoned when I’m on the verge of killing myself after losing everything. Although it’s always painful, I could deal with it.

But do you know what I couldn’t deal with?

The fact that she came back to me. Stating she was unhappily married to someone else while dreaming about me all along. What a cruel fate. 

Oh, God! Why? 

Why would you be so cruel to let her suffer a fate like that? To be born in a family to allow such monstrosity. To let her be in such circumstances.

Maybe you have something else in mind, I don’t know. 

But, what about you, girl? Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? Be honest. Have some strength. Integrity. ANYTHING!

Why didn’t you do something?

Or say anything?

It all could be prevented.

What If I could be there first? What If I could save the day? What if — 

Ah, what’s the use? It happened already.

And who am I to blame her? 

What am I? I’m a privileged man, who’s been lucky enough to never withstand such a concept. I fought everyone who stepped on me, to pursue every dream I wanted, to live the life I so desired. To be given strength, resilience, and bravery for such a feat.

What do I know about being a helpless girl, being overpowered by a long-standing tradition, and having an iron fist-ruling family?

What do I know about repression?

What do I know about patriarchy?

What do I know about any of this?

And God… What is the sanctity of marriage?

Is it morally correct to keep somebody down like that?

And is it morally wrong to step in and provide a bit of lights and hope for such a person?

I don’t know.  I’m confused, I’m lost, I’m sad, angry, disappointed, and, above all…  Conflicted.

Maybe you’ll show me the way. 

Either way, I hope she finds meaning and hope. And a reason to smile every day.

Or should I be the one to give it to her?

We’ll see.