Out of the Rabbit Hole I Go

The Boy, the Bitch, and the Walk Home

I don’t know when this crush started. I don’t know how this crush started. I don’t know where this crush started. (Yes, I’m as clueless as you, sorry to disappoint you if you thought I had juicy details to share.)

What I can tell you though is the moment when I accepted that I had a crush and pseudo-publicly declared it. It was after one of my classmate’s birthday party and I had already downed a couple of cans of Guinness (and learnt how to play Mahjong). After the party ended, I was walking home with another classmate of mine when somehow our conversation shifted to whether I liked JH. There and then, while not really sober, I said ‘yes’. But did I mean it? Absolutely. I felt the metaphorical rock lifted off my heart and I finally came to terms with my feelings. I remember saying to myself, “Well I guess this is a thing now.”

I felt happy, liberated, and blissful.

After that night, I spent the next few days trying to recall roughly when I started looking at her in a different light. For one whole year I never attached any significance to her presence. I was never emotionally affected by her actions. I never felt the need to be accepted or acknowledged by her. So what happened? For some unknown reason on one fine day, as I walked into class, every action, smile, laugh simply got me hooked. I realised I could stare at her face for hours and not get tired of it. I realised the voice and fake accents I once scoffed at were now adorable quirks. I realised that the >170cm criteria which I used for filtering purposes no longer applied.

My mind, a fortress which I thought was rock solid, started to crumble. I had started to give in, finding every reason to justify every criteria which she failed. I was bewildered, completely and utterly speechless.

That is how this mad one-sided infatuation all started. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but shit happened.

Thanks to Dictionary.com I think that describing my feelings as an ‘infatuation' would be the most apt because it is indeed an “unreasoning passion”. But was it “Foolish” ? Well I’ll get to that.

The Pursuit of Happyness

Being an introspective person with insatiable curiosity, I began to ask myself why I liked her. I accepted that I did. But the question ‘why?’ has got to be answered at least so that I knew exactly what my intentions were. As I embarked on this journey I found out that she was really a fun person to be around, she became the most beautiful person in the world, and in the smallest of areas we shared some common interests (e.g. KPOP).

For almost every night in the next 2 months, I laid on my bed coming up with tons of pros & cons lists, criteria, and requirements in order to evaluate her desirability.

When I told my best friends I was doing this, they all echoed the sentiment that love cannot be reasoned or understood. While I was inclined to just accept this cliché chick flick explanation after some time, I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. Imagine if sparks actually fly and you’re in a position where you have to reveal your motivations, that was what I told myself. Personally, I would also like to know exactly why someone likes me because then not only will I feel that she is genuine, but I can also gauge how well she knows me for fear that either one of us might have some unrealistic expectations or illusions of the other.

The Snapchat streak grew, from single digits to double digits, and the very feelings that I had once dismissed intensified day by day. In every waking moment I could not stop thinking of her. Her smell, her hair, her eyes, her laugh, her smile. It was ecstacy. I was being consumed, devoured mercilessly but I found it thoroughly enjoyable. I remember going to the ACJC Fun-O-Rama just because I knew she was there and although it was sweltering, my heart only melted when I saw her. Can I just tell you for the record how many 7s or 8s I saw at the carnival, even the girls there were pretty damn hot. What can I say, I’m a hormonal teenager after all but none of them appealed to me because I was only thinking of one person.

Once, when our glorious yellow heart disappeared, she got really anxious and tried so hard to get it back. I thought that was some hint, that she cared enough about that heart to feel bad about losing it. I thought she liked me. I’m not sure if it’s just my lack of experience with girls, or my over-analytical nature that led me to draw all sorts of conclusions. But damn, she sure knew how to toy with my feelings. As many positive hints as there were, there were equally as many negative hints, like her telling me about her crush on the captain of some other school’s water polo team. I didn’t think too much of it, I thought that it didn’t matter because she was in my class, and I got to see her every single day.

My feelings were in limbo, and because I did not really know if it was right or wrong to like her, I figured ‘heck, why not?’ right? Objectively speaking, nothing I did was to get her to like me, I knew I could not force another sentient being to share the same thoughts or feelings. My main purpose was one of self-understanding, to experiment, to gain some understanding of the opposite gender, and to see for the first time in my life, how far a crush could go because no, this was the first time in my 18 years of existence that I felt this way.

These 2 months or so were when I was most happy. I was simply astonished by the things I did and how much I change when I liked someone. I travelled to school eager to see her face, I stayed back when I did not need to in order to spend a little more time with her, and I helped her with every single little task. It was really really blissful. I looked forward to all her snaps, opening them and replying almost instantly every single time my phone’s screen lighted up with Snapchat notification. It was a special medium through which we communicated through. I always thought it would be more tiresome as compared to a regular instant messaging application like Whatsapp but I was eager for her reply, eager to see her selfie. She was beautiful even when she wore glasses, beautiful even when her hair was in a mess, and beautiful even when she scrunched her nose and made funny faces. I think I loved this form of communication because it was like writing letters, and like a little boy eager for presents during Christmas, the waiting followed by the unwrapping of presents were the most satisfying activities ever.

Around this time of course, I heard from some of my friends that there were rumours floating around that I liked JH. So as with every night where I conduct a comprehensive self-reflection while laying on my bed, I promised myself that if she ever asked me that question I would tell her the truth. If any of my friends or classmates asked me about it, I would just laugh it off, leaving the answer up to their interpretation. Of course almost everyone who knew me well knew that when it came to my physical ‘type’, I loved loved loved tall girls and long, slim legs. I just cannot stand those stumpy legs that short girls had. JH was below my height criteria, standing at 163cm, but her slim legs made her seem taller and just better proportioned. For the first time in my life I thought, I guess I could work with that height.

This entire experience also really opened my eyes because I managed to experience an emotional satisfaction and companionship that I had never felt with any of my best friends or family. Physical appearance did not matter to me because as compared to all those Fun-O-Rama girls, she still looked like the most beautiful girl in the world. Not even Karlie Kloss could top her. It was this emotional attachment I had developed that really drew me to talk more, laugh more, and smile more. I now understood how couples could just share everything with that special someone, not motivated by any primal sexual desire.

It was entirely one-sided, but it was such a fruitful experience. I scraped the surface of what it was like to love someone and truly, our need for companionship is simply innate unlike what Meursault seems to think. It really helps to have someone to share everything with, knowing that that person will love you no matter what, or at least that is what I managed to glean from my short stay in the realm of infatuation.

It certainly sounded like a wonderful time, but you know what they all say, the higher the ‘high’, the worse the hangover and you can be bloody hell sure I was at an all-time high. Dopamine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. So how did everything go to shit?

London Bridge is Falling Down

Well like I said, it consumed me. My one-sided love became a monster, it evolved from an innocent, observational, her-little-cupid kind of crush into a cesspool of obsessiveness, jealousy, and judgemental behaviour. I found myself angry at her because in my fervent passionate devotion to this friendship, I let myself think we actually had some sort of relationship when to a casual observer, we could be seen as friends that just got along well. Of course, that’s what an infatuation is right? A foolish unreasoning passion. This wasn’t helped by the fact that she flirted and sent ‘no' signals like continuously. Or maybe it’s just me over-thinking things. Still I’m pretty certain if those things were said to any other guy they would get the same idea. I suppose those words were just innocent, unintentional, and unsuspecting because maybe some girls are just like that. Maybe girls don’t know how to be careful with their words because men are such straight-thinking creatures. Nah…they probably know and that’s how they manipulate us. Now I know why guys are often in despair when trying to figure out what girls think. (Side note: if she’s actually doing it knowing that she’s sending some sort of signal and is trying to fuck with me then fuck that bitch for messing with my mind.)

I’ve digressed a little, let me return to how I became an angry and hateful person. Well, I would consider myself pretty damn introspective and self-reflective. Once I acknowledged that I had let myself go out of control and become this madman who hated something that never existed, I became angry at myself for letting myself become angry (so meta I know). My mind was like a warzone, chaotic and horrific (at least it scared the living hell out of me). At the peak of my reign as a monster, my friends turned out to be my saving grace. My best buddies. Guys who I told about this innocent little crush a couple weeks back. In some sense I kind of hate them for letting me think this friendship could have evolved into something else. After all, some well-known (but not well-liked) mugger with a popz girl? No way bruh.

So I vented to my buddies and one thing that really hit home was the matter of her or anyone, even myself, having no obligation to reciprocate in any way. Just because I put in a 110%, I shouldn’t expect to receive 110% in return. Sometimes it’s 10%, sometimes it’s 100%. Especially when all we had between us was a relationship. I suppose I had the mugger mentality when approaching such tender matters of relationships. Since young I was taught by my father that when it came to exams, my efforts were always quantified by my results. If I got 90, it was because I put in 90% of my effort and if I got 60, I certainly did not put in enough effort. So I thought if I snapchatted her more, she would also reciprocate more enthusiastically and it was when she did not that was when I became angry because my efforts were not yielding results (if you ever read this, I was angry at myself, not you — of course in keeping with the idea of this section, you have no obligation to do or feel anything).

With advice from my buddies I finally managed to understand how love itself can’t be forced. Heh, now those cheesy Channel 8 dramas which I used to laugh at for having cliché love stories don’t seem too foreign in my current predicament. Accepting this reality was tough, like I said, the higher the ‘high’, the worse the hangover. For a brief period of time I fell into self-deprecation. I analysed all the existing couples that I know of in Year 6 and found one similar trait, that more than 90% of the guys were sportsmen. Well this didn’t come as a surprise because after all being a sportsmen does elevate your position in the social hierarchy. Was I not good enough for her? Too lanky? Too nerdy?

Thank God I was born with a little arrogance and a tinge of narcissism because soon I snapped out of that bullshit. There’s no way I’m worse than some of those jokers. If anything I’m probably better but of course I’m not some belligerent idiot, I do respect their accomplishments, no matter how (in)significant they might be. I do respect some of them though, not for their results or sporting achievements but for their character, resilience, and niceness. I consider myself to be an Alpha male, in a sea of Betas — spineless, indecisive, weak, submissive Betas.

I reflected deeply over the weekend, evaluating all possible outcomes and determined the long term feasibility and tenability of such a prospect. Firstly, I felt I would be absolutely irresponsible to even think of getting a girlfriend before army. It’s like marrying someone before you die of cancer. It’s completely selfish, why should I deny another person of seeking their life partner while I’m obviously not there for her? Even if we lasted through the 2 years, I would have denied her 2 years of opportunities or rather, being back on the market. I told myself I would never be THAT guy which is why this relationship would do injustice to the other person. Secondly, I felt like my standards had been severely diluted. Close friends who know my 'type’/preferences in a partner will know that I have high standards, both literally and figuratively. I’ve always yearned for someone equally or more competent, someone that not only brings out the best of me but someone that can also be the ice to my fire, someone well-read, someone who’s a morning person like me, someone who seeks intellectual stimulation, someone who loves learning, someone who is wise when I’m foolish, and someone who seeks not money or luxuries but seeks self-understanding, enlightenment, and non-action (a Taoist principle where one’s actions are a result of one’s nature, not one’s intentions, much like how flowers bloom and the river flows, there is no intended action because everything is natural). Since this is my blog of sorts anyway, I have to brutally honest with myself, if not what’s the point right? I really thought JH was not only beautiful, but the hottest person around. Yes, 'hot' and beautiful are 2 different things. Let me briefly explain, someone 'hot' appeals to the primal sexual instinct, essentially someone you would love to fuck. That’s what is meant by 'hot’, it’s sexual, it’s instinctive, it’s ascertaining physical beauty based literally on one’s physical appearance. So what makes someone beautiful? Of course this would require you to actually know that person, and this is when you know that person is kind, understanding, and her non-physical aspects appeal to you so much so that they overshadow physical appearance itself. It truly is beyond skin deep, that person could be a sentient software like Jarvis in Iron Man and I would still find it absolutely beautiful. So yes, JH was hot but also had qualities that I found beautiful.

Yes I know I’ve digressed a little, but this distinction is important because I managed to further my understanding of what I truly seek in a partner because being 'beautiful' is not the be all and end all. I realised that beneath all of that, the underlying core principles of a person matter the most to me. I’ve always thought there were 2 main types of couples, those who have similar shared interests and personalities, and those who are total opposites like having a bipolar person split into two. Nah just kidding, not THAT extreme. More like one person would be really lazy and another would be really on-the-ball, the communion of the two would lead to balance, like Ying and Yang. The latter was how I envisioned my 'relationship' with JH would be like, like the rough rocks in a river that repeatedly collide, they are eventually smoothed and polished because the rough edges of one rock only serve to smoothen those of the other. Cynical me, a Romantic? I laugh. Jokes aside, this was how I felt, what I envisioned was in my mind perfect. However, rooted deep in JH’s self-proclaimed and proven laziness was an attitude that was fundamentally different from mine.

The words 'hate' and 'learning' were often used in conjunction too many times for my liking. At the start I ignored these quips because like I said, infatuation. However when I started to evaluate the prospects on a closer, more detailed basis, I became repulsed by it. I used to hate learning, I won’t lie, but I’ve grown to love it. As my father has always said throughout my childhood, “Knowledge is Power”, and this has been a motivational mantra for me even till today. You know what I hate sometimes? Work. Assignments. Essays. But to hate learning itself, the sole acquisition of all knowledge itself. It dawned upon me how fundamentally pitiful that was, a lack of motivation or care for the knowledge humanity has so painstakingly acquired over thousands of years. Once again, no I’m not bashing her, I just find the lack of love for learning in general pitiful because the world just has so much to offer. Yes, I’m the kind of guy to visit historical sites when I travel to learn about the history. For some people, they just want to get to the shopping or the massages, but in my opinion those are pretty trivial and frivolous activities.

So yes you’ve read about me liking her, loving her, hating myself, and realising the puzzle pieces just don’t fit. Where am I now? In all honesty, I still feel a bit for her. For your reference, today’s date is 26/5/16. It’s been almost a month since I’ve started writing this post. The flames of passion have for the most part, died down, what’s left I suppose are remnants or the embers hidden underneath the ashes. I expect those to eventually die down as the June holiday approaches during which I’ll most probably not get to see her face. This reminds me of what Trevin, a good friend of mine, and I used to talk about. *Cue digression*

Trevin and I were once talking about the various couples in the level, and we were talking about those that have presumably failed. I remember his Chindian wisdom, he told me that as far as possible, one should never seek a relationship with a classmate. I asked why? He explained that for obvious reasons, if things were to go south, it’ll be harder and more awkward for both parties because they see each other every. single. day. If that person were in another class, at least the flames of passion/hatred wouldn’t be stoked or fanned that often. So that probably explains why I still feel a little for JH. *Cue transition back to main plot*

As I gradually get over her there’s always been this voice in my head that’s questioning my very intentions. Am I just forcefully suppressing my emotions? Do I still really like her? In order to find out, I tried my best to experience a catharsis. Letting it all go. Feel what I feel. After all I should embrace my feelings. Well, the conclusion I reached is that she appears less desirable than before because I suppose my rationalising of our fundamental differences and unsustainable relationship extinguished most of the flames. Well, little embers do exist as aforementioned because I still see her face but I see those as being harmless. The kids nowadays eye candy, and truth be told, I don’t think it’s any more than that.

It’s quite liberating actually. I find less and less of my mind power being occupied by her which is definitely a great because exams. The sweet smell of fresh air. I think I managed to dodge a bullet. Despite how much I think I like her, rationality and logicality still has to be the determining force behind action. Passions may die as evident from the many couples that have divorced or broken up. Oftentimes it’s because they do not get along well anymore or because they are truly opposites, from the fundamentals up. No matter how much love or so they think they have, the relationship needs concrete foundations that cements the love, and to ensure the basis of their love, their “rock of the world”, is not founded securely upon “a fairy’s wing”. Wow I’m quoting Gatsby now.