my fingers are about to take to this keyboard and i recall, from a past life, a session with a fortune teller where i was told to exercise extreme caution with all the men who will approach me in my life. all of this was translated through momsy— seeing as how i have a lifelong struggle to understand profound chinese. smirking, i had asked "why?" aloud and in english. that needed no translation, of course and the answer that had came back (via momsy) was: "because they all have very bad intentions for you. it's because of your face."

"my face?" i laughed a barking insulted laugh. "nothing i can do to change that, huh, mom."

"your look." my mother corrected herself.

regardless of the reasoning, it seems to me that this has proven to be true time and time again. four boyfriends later and all i've come to be properly certain of men is that they all cheat. and lie. (and omission of truths constitute in my book as lying, too for the record.) perhaps it is the oedipus curse— serial cheating, in all forms, is something i have grown up witnessing and now, have developed an iron-clad instinct to detect that shit. it wasn't something of choice. sadly, once something has been taught, seen and learnt, there is no other way back.

is this all cryptic? hardly.

to quote the lovely stacie orrico who says sings it better:

now that it's over, what else could it be? he decides to cheat.


real love, good love, honest love and true love, i have finally come to realise and accept today, is no friend of mine indeed. the only thing i've known of love is the darkness and the sinister gnarled snares of deceit. manipulation. control.

i am truly so fascinated with the outcomes of psychological impact. different children raised in the same environment can be affected so differently. isn't it just amazing? this single conclusion continues to prevail— of us three daughters, i seem to have the unbreakable misfortune of continuing to choose characters with extreme likeness to my father. this is a fact that is absolutely terrifying.

and today, of all days; in one, single, solitary day, this conclusion has been proven true.

as a result of all my accumulated (nightmare) experiences, suffice to say, i've now been conditioned to expect it. and perhaps this isn't a new revelation to any mature, older woman. "all men cheat. we have to just close an eye," is the mantra and i guess you could say, the "secret sauce" to success of a long marriage. but i call bullshit and if monogamy is not made for the male species then, so be it. fuck it all. i am glad to mark this day as the day i draw this hard line in the sand:

I CHOOSE TO BE ALONE.



ah, but you'll say this and then you'll be tested. good ol' moms. always the mouthpiece of eccentric, off the cuff chinese proverbs. her voice is the first one to ring in the space between my ears when i make my sweeping "for life" declarations. maybe Never Say Never. maybe, in time, i could find myself in a situation where i will be made to eat these words of mine. but truth be told, the likelihood of that happening? let's be honest: zero to none. poor fuckers fail to fight temptation at every, single, go. it is actually the very definition of pathetic.

perhaps all of this is some karma from past lives still not entirely paid off in this life. i'm more determined than ever now to suss out a solid karmic reader this year to do an in-depth karma reading and genuinely find out once and for all. i have been so curious for so long as to why finding good, solid, real, honest love that lasts is such a struggle for me. from the christian/muslim/buddhist taoist standpoint, i am repeatedly told that this is because it is not my time yet to meet my destined one. from a logical standpoint, i know that it is because all of the men i have come to form deep, prolonged relationships with have all betrayed trust and destroyed the sanctity of the union.

this last one, though... absolutely nobody could've seen coming. though my mother had been skeptical, i had (as i always have) simply chalked it up to her being her usual (over)protective self. but i can already hear her reaction in my head— i told you. you are always so quick to feel and believe. your heart needs to harden. stop being so soft!

or this time, how about i simply rip it out my chest entirely so as to not have one at all and then any poor fucker who even so much as blinks in my direction will be made to endure hellfire before he comes anywhere near even breathing the same air. (insert maniacal laughter here.)

okay, okay.

let's cut the shit.

there is no queue and more so, no running number. contrary to whatever people may believe on the surface, nobody is crashing into one another, climbing over each other, clawing and fighting their way to me. i'm difficult. rigid. far too obsessed with patterns and habits. impatient. perfection-driven. fussy. overly smothering. et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. the bottom line i make here is that i'm no catch and well, at least i'll be the first one to put my hand up and admit this! unabashedly and without apologies.

so, it's only month four in the year 2018. lots of revelations and surprise, surprise, more losses(!) lovely. i thought it held so much promise for good but it seems like up to this point, it has just been nothing but false alarms. still, i'm extremely grateful for these lessons, of course. and perhaps this is all part of preparation for something greater and better. who can say? as a christian, there can only be one course of action and one course only: keep the faith.

the one thing i will honestly vouch for here is God's goodness. each and every time that i have called out to Him for guidance, for help, for clarity— it has been granted. unfailingly.

regardless of what other people's opinions may be, this is how i know God is so real. and how i feel His love.

i will sing to the Lord as i live; i will sing praise to my God while i have being.
—PSALM 104:33

DEFINITELY SINGLE INDEFINITELY.



welcome to my new normal.

having spent a grand total of eight years and three months of being in what i always regarded as committed relationships but come to find out was not the case for any of the other parties involved; the only things i am left more with now is damage, baggage and hurt. i am bruised, bent, more broken than ever and have but one word scrawled all over me: JADED.

i have never been one to know, to feel, to love a good man. it hurts to know that this is my truth and nothing else.