"I Don't Exist"

My purpose of being here now seems unclear. I should go home soon to look after my parents. That would be a more worthwhile thing to do. Better than M who had left behind his parents (and wife) and not visited them in years.

I so love bashing him up through this blog. Somehow helps to rebuild my self-esteem after getting bullied by this champion of women’s rights and whatever other human rights you can think of.

M has come to know about me seeing a professional counsellor because of what he has done to me. Defiled and thrown aside. Why hadn’t I decided not to be with him in the first place when he had asked me to?

“I don’t know what you have been telling the counsellor. But whatever it is, I don’t exist. I am not to be mentioned,” M had said a few times during that one final time when we had met.

Why? Because you’re afraid your “I’m a hero to the poor and downtrodden” image might get tarnished?

You don’t want to exist? It shall be done then.

From now on, M shall be known as M. Simply because you don’t exist, don’t want your name mentioned during my counselling sessions with the counsellor, don’t want people to find out about you leaving behind your wife and family just so you could travel the world and achieve whatever ultimate enlightenment through that high IQ of yours while making those unsuspecting others continue to admire the monster that you are. 

Asshole!

The Nephew

“This girl has such a bad temper. She should get punished. Only then would she understand the difficulties that parents go through,” Landlady grumbled about her daughter early this morning as I was about to go to work.

Mother and daughter had yet another shouting match this morning.

Anyway, the daughter had already been punished enough when her parents decided to divorce many years back. So there......

“I hope you don't mind me giving your phone number to my nephew. Has my nephew contacted you?” Landlady asked me, hiding her enthusiasm and curiosity without much success.

“Yes. We went out for dinner two days ago,” I answered in a non-committal voice.

Then came that annoying question: “So what do you think about him?”

“Well…” I shrugged, looked at the kitchen sink and kept quiet because I really didn’t know what I should say.

In just one hour over dinner two days ago, I managed to get Nephew Dude to tell me the story of his life. I had said we could have dinner at any place that's not too fanciful. But Nephew Dude opted for one particular expensive eatery.

Nephew Dude just started working in the Sales Department of Company XYZ about a year ago. He said he’s managed ten businesses before- a series of entrepreneurial endeavours that opened and then closed, like various books that got thumbed through and then thrown aside. Like how I got used and dumped by (in)famous M.

His dad just had a surgery. And he has two kids to take care of. Let’s just call these two kids Christopher and Melissa.

On a typical school day, Nephew Dude would wake up real early to fetch his kids to school. Then he’d spend some time sleeping at his office car-park before heading to his office just when work is about to start for the day.

“I’ve been through some really difficult times previously… Gone through some counselling,” he mentioned, and then quickly added, “but I’m OK now.”

“My two kids aren’t that good in their studies. So I make sure they do well in at least something. Both of them love sports. At least they’re doing something to keep them off the streets. At one time, my son went through a tough time. He’d hang out with all those bad street kids. Once, he stole $600 from his grandfather to go buy anime collectibles…”

I suddenly felt this strong urge to ask one strange question: How did you meet your ex-wife?

And so I got my answer. Nephew Dude used to teach in a language school. He met his ex-wife there. His ex-wife was from Vietnam.

“A few months after Melissa was born, my wife walked away from the family. She stayed with another man. Always got herself drunk and took drugs,” Nephew Dude said.

“At one time, me and my kids together with my dad had stayed with my elder sister. My sister and I are no longer on talking terms. When she sold the apartment we were staying in, me , my kids and my father had to stay in a small room. We had nowhere to go……”

“I just got a new place for my kids and father. I’ve been so busy with my work I’ve not had time to unpack all my things. My sister is an interesting person. She divorced her husband and stayed with another man. They fought a lot. She had two kids with this man but didn’t get married until recently.”

Then came this other strong urge in me to ask him one other personal question: How did your ex-wife die?

“I really don’t know how she died. She probably got high and jumped off a building,” Nephew Dude answered.

“My son was very sad because he was quite close to his mother. Melissa didn’t really feel anything when her mother died. Her mother walked out on us when she was only a baby.”

Yeah. Same as to how M had walked out on his wife and family about 4 years ago, dragged me into his life along the way and then dumped me. Which silly girl could resist the charm of this piece of shit who had enthralled a nation or two with his amazing story-telling skills?

On the day before I had gone out with Nephew Dude, I had called Madam Professional Counsellor to seek her advice on this whole dating business because this is happening not too long after my bad experience with M.

Madam Professional Counsellor had already kinda forgotten about me. I really can’t fathom as to how she ended up as a “professional counsellor” when she’s obviously as full of shit as any other shitty person out there on the streets.

This “professional counsellor” is so full of shit that she actually said “Oh, that’s wonderful news” when I told her that my Landlady is trying to matchmake me with her nephew who already has two kids and a dead ex-wife whom he sometimes still refers to as “my wife”.  

So-called pro counsellor probably only managed to hear, “My Landlady is trying to matchmake me with her nephew,” and simply interpreted the rest of my sentence as unimportant gibberish that should just be ignored.

Anyway, I didn’t bother to ask Nephew Dude if I could pay for my share of dinner that night. The bill came to almost $100 for the types of food you could get from any other restaurant for about half that price, or even lesser.

When he drove me back to my apartment, Nephew Dude said he’d like to see me again. When I got out from his car, he said “see you” but I said “bye”.

I’m already too tired to be considerate to men.

Damn you, M. Bet you’re happy there’s a strange man out there who’s suddenly thrown into the story of my stupid life.  Now go ahead and keep telling the world how passionate you are about helping the poor and downtrodden.

after the quake

“Can you forgive him for what he has done to you?” Madam Professional Counsellor had asked me.

For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything and just sat there quietly.

“I don’t know,” I finally said.

I don’t know.

I don’t. No.

I won’t. No.

Part of me longs to have him return to me. The other part longs to have him fed to the crows.

The economy was booming. People had more money than they knew what to do with. And then the earthquake struck. For the characters in “after the quake”, the Kobe earthquake is an echo from a past they buried long ago. Satsuki has spent thirty years hating one man: a lover who destroyed her chances of having children. Did her desire for revenge cause the earthquake?

When I saw that book four days ago, I knew I had to own it. Haruki Murakami did not disappoint. His stories had me immediately enthralled, what more with me being able to identify myself with one of the characters from his earthquake novel.

She thought about the child to which she never gave birth. She had destroyed that child…. And then she had spent 30 years hating one man. She had hoped that he would die in agony. In order to bring that about, she had gone so far as to wish in the depths of her heart for an earthquake.

“I feel you, Satsuki. I wonder if I’m going to go on harbouring my hatred for that one man for so many years; that earth-shattering hatred,” I had said to myself four days ago.

So engrossed was I with the book that I had not even realized a disastrous earthquake had actually taken place in Japan around the time while I was seriously poring through Murakami’s book. I only found out about the Minamisanriku disaster two days ago and how M had linked this horrifying event with the nonsensical religion-based doomsday theory. 

Anyway, what I'm going through isn't as horrifying as what the many in Japan are going through right now. My personal problems pale in comparison to all the shit that's going on out there. 

I so hate going back to the office again to work. But office slaves like me cannot be easily excused from the office.

Lady Boss’ No. 2 is currently overseas in a country that’s located somewhat near Japan. Dang, if only she had been in Minamisanriku two days ago. Her former colleagues had so totally disliked her. She, who is not even qualified to be a Head of Department, could end up becoming a Principal in this insane school.  

Translator Jay Rubin says of the collection, "The central characters in ‘after the quake’ live far from the physical devastation, which they witness only on TV or in the papers, but for each of them the massive destruction unleashed by the earth itself becomes a turning point in their lives. They are forced to confront an emptiness they have borne inside them for years."

Could I ever forgive this insane Principal who made me feel worthless?

I won’t. No. Definitely not. 

Could I ever forgive M?

I won't. No. I hope he burns in his atheist hell.

One year ago

Calling him would've been futile. He'd not answer anyway.
Emailing him wouldn't have made any difference.

Today's date really means something to me. Exactly one year ago, I slept with M for the first time. First time for me.

But do you think M actually remembers the significance of today's date? Noooooooo.... Of course not. He'd rather remember dates of early human migrations, timelines of early South East Asian wars, the evolution of mankind, the importance of DNA, the importance of being able to wheedle out freebies from unsuspecting company enthralled by his charisma, the mysteries of the universe......

I'm too "petty" for him. Too unimportant. Totally insignificant. Doesn't matter how I feel. So unimportant and insignificant I could just so easily be used and dumped like a useless rag-doll.

My life so far

Landlady has invited me over to her place again today for dinner. She’s making duck soup.

“I won some money yesterday after playing mah-jong with my relatives. Come over to my place this evening, I’m going to make duck soup. Please don’t bring anything over this time,” Landlady said while queuing up to pay for her groceries this morning.

I had just followed her to church early this morning.

Landlady continued, “My nephew, he’s such a smart boy, got his Masters, but his two sons are always failing in school. His wife left him and last year, she passed away. They got married when they were so young. I pity his sons. No female figure in the house. Last weekend, both sons and the father just watched TV the whole day.”

“So cute, last week, one of his sons fell asleep in the bus on the way home and got locked inside the bus. I called the bus company but no one answered, so I had to call the police…”

I then thought about M again. He’s the kind of person who’d walk into any minister’s office and argue over just about anything while trying to get other people to agree with what he’s got to say about anything. He’s also the kind of person who’d stand on stage and talk about human rights, women’s rights, all that shit. But isn’t he just the type of person who causes families and relationships to fall apart?

“What’s the point of getting married when you can’t even be responsible for that marriage?” he once said to me.

My question to M is, “What’s the point of you running after so many women when you don’t even intend to really take care of any one of them once you got bored of them? Was I too insignificant to remain with you so that’s why you now have to avoid me?”

In him, I first saw a man who’d be able to stand strong and protect those whom he cares about. In him, I saw a man who’s capable of many wonderful things. Now, I wish he’d been castrated ever since the day he was born. He never liked children anyway, so it’d really not matter if he no longer physically possessed what a woman does not have.  

Just had my first session of “professional counselling” with a particular “professional counsellor”. I wasn’t sure what I had wanted to get from that counsellor, but the advice and responses I got were pretty standard. A professional counsellor is a human being too. Such people have problems of their own to deal with too.

“He doesn’t deserve you. He’s one of those second-hand, third-hand types of people who’d prefer to hang out with wild people. He’s a man of the streets. Are you going to just accept him again should he ever decide to return to you?” AE scolded me through the phone.

  That’s my life so far, apart from getting harassed by insane boss No. 2 at 8.00 pm ++ almost every other day after office hours. I can’t wait for these next 2 weeks to pass me by.

Professional Counselling

It's really annoying to get blamed for something that isn't your fault. For the past less than a handful of months, I've been trying to clear up this huge pile of office shit left behind by 5 people hired consecutively last year.  It's so huge a pile of crap that I'm still working on getting things set up properly. But No. 2 and Lady Boss are not happy because things are still not perfect. Seriously, I give up. No wonder people keep running away from this place.

Today marks my first day of seeking professional help for this terrible, terrible ordeal that I've stupidly put myself into right after M kicked me out from his life after all the things I've done to make him happy. I called the counsellor at the wrong time this evening as she was about to go out with her family for dinner. But she said she'd like to hear from me again later in the evening. Awesome. That's what professional counsellors are for.

That's what professional counsellors are for because I cannot go on suddenly breaking down while in the midst of working on something wherever I may be. It's not healthy.

Many a times, I had felt like screaming out loud, crying, crawling and hiding under something that could shelter me from all these hellish mental demons that keep on appearing to haunt me. But I'm just afraid and worried other people would freak out.

Seriously, how shit could a popular champion of women's rights be so well-loved by the general public but still take advantage of other girls? How in the world could I have been so deluded to believe M would always be around to protect me from harm? If  not because of my family back home, I would've done really crazy things to myself much earlier on because of what M has done to me.