The Annual Song and Dance

And so, another year goes by. And for the second consecutive year, I wished I could avoid the rituals and routines that we practice at every birthday. I know the tune, the song and the dance. And I even know how it ends. In disappointment. There is nothing that I want, or maybe there is nothing that I feel that I want. And a person who wants nothing is akin to standing on a ledge.

But despite this I do believe in the universe. And I do believe that it is constantly working, invisibly, in the background, ensuring that everything happens for a reason. This has certainly been put to the test, as I've tumbled from one inglorious encounter to another. I feel like it's trampled over me so much over the past few years that I am near numb to it's insults.

But then there was the night before my birthday. A total random series of events that was triggered by yet another failed encounter that ended with the biggest blow that it's dealt me in a while. But because of that I ended up in a place where I should not have been and met with a group of people that I would normally not have, and in the end, despite a last kick in the shin the universe threw me a bone, in the form of a chance encounter.

I say chance because there are many variables in the permutation of life that could have led to many alternative scenarios. But in this instance, the universe aligned itself for the first time in 8 years, and it happened.

The universe. Oh how you have toyed with me and had your way at my expense. And to borrow an analogy: Just when I felt like I had one foot dangling off the rooftop, ready to jump off, you surprised me.

You delivered unto me a moment in time that I would frame and put on display. So much so that wish i could freeze myself in time and relive it over and over again.

Regardless of how this event will eventually pan out, the initial moment has made me - again to borrow an analogy: step back off the ledge and come inside.

You've now aroused my curiosity and for that reason alone it'll be worth sticking around and see how it plays out. You do work in mysterious ways. And now you've dangled something in front of me that I want.

My Heart

I recently found out I have a weak heart. I suspected it for a while but I finally found out for certain. I ran my first half marathon with a heart rate monitor and it turned out to be pretty alarming.

The common way for determining your maximum heart rate is to minus you age from 220. So technically my maximum heart rate should be 187 beats per minute (bpm). My heart rate was well below that for the first 15km or so, but then as I started to tire I noticed it started to increase. As I pushed on past the 17 km mark, I was at 185bpm.

By the 19 km mark I was well into the 190bpm zone and rising. The final 1 km was the hardest. I was tired but determined to keep up my pace, and so my heart rate went into the 200bpm zone. As I approached the finish line I was aiming to finish under 2 hours, which was my personal target, so I sprinted the last 300m or so. I felt fine, I felt I was pouring every ounce of energy into powering my legs to the finish. I made it across the line in 2h 00m 02!

So close, yet so far.

But here’s when I noticed that my heart rate had peaked at 205bpm and then I felt my heart pounding against my chest. It was alarming because it felt like it wanted to burst through and escape. It took close to an hour before it came down to my resting heart rate.

My housemate who also happens to be a cardiothoracic surgeon in the making said it’s never a good sign when your heart rate exceeds 200bpm. I brought it up with my running coach and he suggested a few exercises to build up my heart’s resilience.

I always though that saying you were heartbroken was just a metaphor, but maybe there’s more to it. My poor heart is so bruised and battered that it can’t even handle me doing the only thing that helps me escape.

The silver lining is that whilst I can’t do much about the emotional scaring, I can certainly do something about getting it physically stronger than it currently is. Here’s to hoping it works.

I Know You

What leads to inspiration? A person, an event, a place, a moment in time? The list is endless, but on this occasion it was a plane ride, over the Indian Ocean under the cloak of darkness, after an exhausting week of being completely submerged in work. A change is on the horizon, i can feel it. But on my way there... 

I know you

I know you.

And I know you know me.

I recognized you the moment I saw you

And I know that you saw me staring at you

You moved closer.

And I stopped, frozen in my footsteps

You were coming closer and I had no idea what to do

So I looked away and continued working,

Conscious you were heading my way.

But I’m done for now, I’ve got no more excuses

I can’t avoid it any longer, so I look up

And there you are, standing right in front of me.

I see you.

And I see you looking straight at me.

You smile and a sense of familiarity washes over me

It’s been so long but I haven’t forgotten a single feature on your face

Your skin looks as smooth and as fair as I remember it,

Your hair is different from when we last met

It has changed, as have you too

But looking into your eyes tell me everything I need to know about you

There is no uncomfortable silence as we stand in front of each other,

We are speaking without talking.

We are listening although there is nothing to hear

We are dancing without moving our feet

I always knew you would come back,

I don’t know how or why, but even when it seemed most unlikely

I knew you would return.

Which is why I’ve been preparing myself for this day

But I didn’t expect this moment to come so soon.

Do I want you back?

Do I need you back?

Should I let you back?

These are pointless questions

You are here,

And from the look on your face you are determined to stay

The shock of seeing you has now passed

I breathe out

You smile at me and I can’t help but look at your lips.

I’m drawn to you

After all, I know you.

I know what’s going to happen next, we both do.

You are about to kiss me

I see your hand reaching out for mine.

You take my hand in yours and a shiver runs through my body

Your touch is so cold.

Or maybe it’s me

Maybe this is how the first touch after so very long feels like

I’m drawn closer to you and your hands are around me

I wrap my hands around you and pull you close, seeking the warmth of our embrace

I can hear your heartbeat

I can feel your breath on my skin

I can smell the scent of your perfume

Our eyes haven’t left each other,

Everything I’ve wanted to say to you, they have done that for me

And I can see that you have listened to every word.

You know my past, and you know my pain

You understand me

You move your face right in front of me

Our foreheads rest against each other

I am drawn to you.

You kiss me. I kiss you.

We kiss

Your lips are cold

Your tongue is rough

And a bitter taste fills my mouth

Your emptiness pours into my body

But I am locked in your embrace and I can’t find the strength to fight you

I know you, and I know you know me too

I know the misery and despair that you bring

But there is some comfort in your cold embrace

It reminds me of how much I was able to give

It reminds me of how deep I was willing to surrender

It prepares me for the next time when I will do it all over again

I allow you to hold me

I allow you to touch me

I allow you to caress me

There are no words to describe what you do

But you have a name and I shall call you by it

Loneliness.

On To The Other Side

I’ve been meaning to write about his for a few days now, but I put it off because I was afraid that I might change my mind. But I have been dwelling on it and as with most of my postings, I experienced a catalyst that has helped me see things clearly.

I actually wrote this whist I was out running. Trail running, through a jungle, next to a reservoir. It was an early morning run and as the sun rose, the tall trees around me blocked the big bright sun from shining down on me. So despite the brightness surrounding me, I was in the dark. I found it ironic. And so I wrote this, in my head as I continued to run, and I’ve been meaning to put it down but just didn’t get around to it. But then, as if on cue, the catalyst that I needed presented itself.


If it doesn’t kill you it makes you stronger. At least that’s what they say. I’ll admit, I’ve said it too. I think it’s something we say when we have nothing else to say. When we see suffering and suddenly realise that no words can alleviate the pain. And so, we say it. Because we think it provides comfort. Because we think it will instil hope. Because we try to feign understanding. But truthfully, I think it’s because we have nothing else to say.

Anyways, I think that quote is incomplete. I think it really should be “If it doesn’t kill you, it’ll make you stronger… but I’ll also leave a bloody big scar”.

I can say this because I have lived it. I have experienced pain without bleeding, been to the darkest corner of my inner self and wallowed in my own misery. And the people around me, bless them, have had to endure me.

Everything happens for a reason. Now this I believe in. Even through everything that was going on, I believed that one day, I would be able to look back and understand just why it happened. That hasn’t happened yet. But what has happened is that I understand the reason for my misery.

She wasn’t just a flesh wound. If she had been a simple flesh wound, the bleeding would have stopped, a scab would have formed, and one day the scab would have fallen off, unnoticed. And when I suddenly remembered it, I would have to strain to look for signs of a scab ever existing in the first place.

But she wasn’t just a flesh wound. She was my soul mate. If you could take two souls, mash them up and then pour half into one being, that would be me. I was one half, and she was my other. That’s how I felt about her.

And so when it ended, I was left with the unfamiliar predicament of how to remove one half of someone that is intertwined within you. When the love that kept the other half within me alive ended, that half within me died. That half of me slowly turned toxic and began to eat away at me from the inside, corroding my soul. Thus, I spent the last year breathing but not living, hurting but not bleeding, awake but still asleep.

But everything happens for a reason. And whilst I don’t yet know why things turned out the way they did, I do know why I had to endure what I did. And that is because it is the only way to purge another soul from within you.

Imagine a surgeon cutting away cancerous parts of flesh, filtering toxic blood and scraping disease off the bone. And even after it’s all been ripped out of you and you’ve been sewn up again, even though it’s all gone, you are still half empty inside. That void, remains.

Can you blame love? No. On the contrary, I feel blessed. Blessed to know that I am capable of such deep emotion. Capable of opening myself up to someone. And blessed to have felt what it is like to be loved so deeply from within. Yes, I cherish the memories of being so deeply in love and even if I could go back in time and start again, even if I knew in advance how it would end and the pain that I would have to endure, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

The real question is what has changed? What is it about now, that is different from the past 12 months that has led me to where I am. Able to stand back, look at things as they are and realise that it’s time to start moving forward. Able to feel, to feel alive and embrace this new energy within me that is growing and pulling me forward. To be awake, I feel like I’ve just woken up from the deepest sleep and for the first time in a long time I am ready to start the day.

I don’t really know what has changed, but what I do know is that my catalyst had something to do with it. And the catalyst that triggered all of this was, funnily enough the crushing of hope. Yes, the ending of hope, delivered by the most unlikely of guardian angels. It was that very sting of truth that provided the jolt that I needed.

Everything does happen for a reason. I can’t tell you why I felt the way I felt for such a long period. I don’t even know if it is considered long, maybe to some but perhaps not to others. But what I do know is that I felt what I felt for a reason. Just like when I fell in love. I did not choose to fall in love, it just happened and I embraced it. Likewise, I did not choose such sadness, but that too I embraced. And it has served its purpose.

So, it turns out I wasn’t running in the dark after all. I was actually just sheltered from the bright rays of the sun that would have made the run more painful than it needed to be. But I’m almost finished and I can see the end of the tree line. In the brightness, the green grass is soaking up the sun and the reservoir water looks inviting. And me, with my scars hidden under my running vest, I’m taking large strides towards the sunlight.

"Everybody hurts sometimes, everybody cries,

And everybody hurts sometimes." - R.E.M.

Ramblings on an Anniversary

As a result of being very inactive and also possibly due to the Facebook Fan Page and Twitter feeds, this blog has only been viewed less than 20 times in the past month. Which suits me just fine, i'm a big fan of intimacy.

Some anniversaries are a cause for celebration.But there are some dates and milestones in our life that we can only hope to put behind us. Death, divorce and getting dumped would rank high on the list of the latter.

Recently I notched up a milestone of my own. A full year has passed since my life was turned upside down and I was glad that I was meant to be buried deep in work, and therefore hoping that it would pass me by quietly. But as always, these things have a way of creeping through the cracks and seeping its way around you even when you were least expecting it.

Hence, my ramblings on one such night. Written in the lonely darkness of a hotel room in Budapest, where the ghost of my past decided the pay me a visit and scrape at the scabs of my wound to reveal the pink flesh that throbbed beneath it.

If I

If I disappeared from your life,

Would you notice me missing?

If I vanished from your world,

Would you think to come looking?

When love is what you live for

How do you keep on going?

When it’s ripped from your life

Leaving a scar that will not heal.

The echo of emptiness still rings clearly in my ear

And now it’s all void and hollow,

Filled with unimaginable sorrow

I gave you everything I had

But it never seemed like much

It was honest and unconditional,

And I emptied myself into you

I got more than I deserved, more than I required

But when you took it all away

You left me rooted in the past

Nursing a wound that will not stop weeping.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but you will forgive me. Because you love me and that’s what you’re supposed to do” - from the movie Valentine's Day

Is it true? Is that true? For me it is. At least I’d hoped it was. I needed her to forgive me. I did something. Something bad, and it changed the way she looked at me. I could see it in her eyes. They were colder, harder and try as I could, I didn’t’ recognize them. It was almost like I was looking into them for the first time. But they conveyed everything she couldn’t say to me. The hurt, her disappointment, her pain.

I expected her to cry, uncontrollably. But she didn’t. She had been and she would, later. But now she wanted to show me that she was strong. That she could do this on her own. And in a warped way, I felt like she’d kicked away the crutches that I’d involuntarily given her.

In this moment, she was no longer the young innocent girl that I had fallen madly in love with. She was wounded, and it had forced her out her shell. There was no way she was going to appear defeated. As I looked at her and watched the transformation in front of me, I was torn between feeling regret for ending her innocence and extremely proud of the way she was handling it. She was a fighter, and today she had learnt to fend for herself, even if it meant attacking the one person who truly loved her most. It was a skill necessary for survival and ironically it was I, who had thought it to her.

And why not? I’d thought her almost everything else she knew. About life, about choice, about falling in love and soon, about falling out of love. Yes I was her complete picture. Her finishing school.

Perhaps I should have seen the signs that day. That one day, should she choose to, she would find it within her to walk away. But I was too blinded by my foolishness. Or maybe I was distracted by the look in her eye. The way she was looking at me. I could tell I looked different to her. She saw me in a different light now. I on the other hand, merely saw her seeing me. Perhaps I should have recognised the seed that I had planted but I was too deeply in love with her to even begin that train of though.

And I supposed perhaps that’s why she’s the survivor, and I am the one left longing. That she has moved on, not looked back and embraced the opportunities ahead of her. I envy her zest and resilience. If I too had the benefit of youth, perhaps I would find it within me to do the same. But this time I lack the energy, the strength and the optimism that is necessary. And because of this, i find myself stuck in a past that doesn’t exist, waiting for a future that can never be.