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The Ego
...have passed since I started this blog. I put the dates into the online calculator, and these figures showed up:

From and including: Sunday, 24 September 2006
To and including: Monday, 11 July 2011
It is 1752 days from the start date to the end date, end date included
Or 4 years, 9 months, 18 days including the end date
Alternative time units
1752 days can be converted to one of these units:
151,372,800 seconds
2,522,880 minutes
42,048 hours
250 weeks (rounded down)

I started because of curiosity. I stuck at it because I loved to write. I spoke freely because I was anonymous. I can't believe I'm about to do this... but it has been at the back of my mind for a while now. Recent events have only confirmed that I'm not anonymous at all.

I'm not going to blog here anymore.

I don't know how many followers I have on this blog, or how many people come across it. I never bothered setting up analytics for this, so I don't know anything about the visitor statistics. Perhaps it is better I don't know.

I'm not going to delete this blog. It holds far too many memories. I'm just not returning to post here anymore. I  have a lot of social media going on with my real name, and ... the last thing I will share with you is this: I've already started some social media experiments with another anonymous name.

Today, is my last post as The Ego. I have become someone else, somewhere else. Where truly, no one knows me. Save one very important person, whom I trust with all my heart with my identity. That's how it will stay for that.

Thank you, whoever has come by my blog. I appreciate your comments, your support, and thank you again.

I wish everyone all the best...and who knows, you may stumble across my other blog not knowing it's me.

Take care bloggers.
- The Ego.
The Ego
... when you are self-aware. The scent of your mother's skin, the softness of her touch. Running through a house. Using the bathroom your first memory. The deliciousness of falling into the soft bed, rubbing your cheek against the silky fabric, wondering if it ever gets better. The first time you really hurt yourself, when you were playing catch with your father, and you ran straight into a pointed wooden seat edge. The searing pain as you saw blood, and white flesh underneath the skin. The tears...plop, plop, plop. Growing up, a new life. Then self-aware of your body. I hate it. You hate it. I can see it in your eyes. Girls blossoming, boys preening. The first time you cried yourself to sleep, waking up the next morning looking like a raccoon. Leaving school. College. Boys? Scared. I'm fat. They don't look at me. I'm not attractive. Rejection. Tears. Love? That first time your heart flutters as he kisses you. The first time ever. Hit on the head with a ball. Winning a sporting event, when everyone wrote you off as a failure. Tears over not doing as well as you'd hoped in exams. Break. The feeling of being able to drive...I have a license! I have a car! That first time you had a fight. The pain of it all. Exciting times ahead...strike out on your own. Leaving home. Leaving everything. Truly finding yourself. Someone not able to do it on her own. Find your own way. That first time you cooked something edible. That first taste of delicious spices in your mouth. Heartbreak. That feeling when you wonder whether whatever you'd believed in for over three years was false. Falling again. Love. Giddiness. That feeling when your career is respected, and you're doing well. The feeling of failure when you came back, but self-respect for why you did. Recognition...more self-respect, only to have it torn to pieces.
That first time...when you think you'll make it.
How does it feel that first time?
The Ego
Note: This will be the last time I blog about this topic. Not the last time I blog, silly...just this topic. I'm not planning what I write. What you read next is what I'm feeling, uncensored. Then, there will be no more talk about it because I cannot bear to go through this anymore.

It's still raw. Like a fresh wound that is refusing to heal. Many plans were made. So were promises. We planned for everything...where it would happen, how it would happen, what the TV room would look like haha. The weirdest, smallest little things were planned you know. It seems silly then that we never planned for a breakup.

I guess we never imagined it. I certainly never imagined external forces would convince him to leave. I don't think he did either.

Po is gone. Well, sort of. He made his choice and left me to make mine.

I've been crying. Raging. Breaking down. Staring into space. Nothing compares to the hollowness you feel when your other half has left.

I laugh and cringe and then cry when I think that I ... no, we ... were planning to get engaged this year or early next, married by late 2012 and ... so much more.

Last night I broke down and spoke to someone about it. She said something, which hurt, but was possibly true. She said I deserved to meet a man who willing to change his life for me, not change everything but make the choices that would work for me as well. I guess I can see he wasn't willing to change so much in his life for me. What's someone you know for a year and half compared to those you've known since you were born, isn't it?

I don't feel much nowadays. Pushing myself to go out. Keep busy and think about other things. It's the worst at night. When you're alone and idle and ... alone.

I say I won't write anymore about this, not because I've stopped caring. But because I don't have the strength to speak about it anymore. Because my friend also told me it gets worse when you let the guy know how much it's affected you. I know he can, and is, reading this. There will be no more. Nothing anymore in the public domain to speak of the pain I'm going through and will go through for some time. Nothing to speak of the dullness that will settle in eventually. And the twinges of hurt that come only with time.


Happy/Snarky blogposts to resume soon.

The Ego
Cheaters. I don't like them. Yet it seems as though Dubai is full of the sodding lot.

Anyway, I met this guy recently through common friends. Seemed decent enough. Few years older, with a wife and kids. Wife and kids are on a holiday right now. Chatted a bit, met up a few times. All platonic mind you. Then the weird stuff starts. Calls asking to meet at random times. Calls asking why I wasn't talking to him. Text messages asking the same. Emails. The whole shebang. Texting me to tell me how beautiful I looked.

Full stop has been noted. Barrier has been erected. A divider has been placed.

Goodbye despo.
The Ego
I haven't cried about this in a week now. I don't know what's happened just now...but it's started all over again. The feeling of pain and betrayal and hurt and ... just the pain. This was not supposed to happen. You were meant to be stronger than this. I was meant to be stronger than this. The futility of these tears strike me even as they roll down my face. But they keep coming and coming and coming...they just won't stop. Stupid...stupid... achy breaky heart.
The Ego
"I can really imagine how sick / empty / nauseous / insecure / betrayed ...devastated... you feel"

A friend sent me that message a few days back. She nailed it. That is exactly how I feel about the situation I am in. She's been through the same experience, and I can't wait to have some alone time with her to thrash it out and hopefully feel the slightest bit better. Although I doubt it.

*          *          *          *

This post is called "a month later" because I haven't blogged for a month now. Anyway, I've been busy with work and personal commitments, all of which have contributed to the lack of blogging.

*          *          *          *
Normal service to resume shortly.
The Ego
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculous circumstances.

When I was in the UK, I'd mostly watch movies alone save maybe...2-3 times when I went with someone else. Which is fine, I got used to going for movies alone there.

You'd think I'd have friends in Dubai to call on to watch a movie with me. Nope. Most times that I've gone for movies since I was back I've gone alone since people are either too busy or too angry with me to go, or no one is as close as I'd like for a movie viewing.

It's weird but since coming back...I haven't spoken on the phone to anyone for more than perhaps 2-3 minutes if ever. It's a complete turnaround from the time before I left.

Hahahaha before I left I was the one who had problems going out often. Now when I can, other people do. Ah well.

Edit: It strikes me that not only for movies...but almost everything else I've gone out for, I've gone alone most of the time. My Brit state of living followed me back here!!! :D
DISCLAIMER: All opinions expressed on this blog are the bloggers private thoughts, not meant to cause harm. Take everything with a pinch of salt.