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It's January 2010. I am sitting at my apartment balcony, drinking a mug of hot Milo, and content with the way things are. I am happy now. And now is where I want to be. Funny how I thought I would never be okay after us.
Twelve months ago you said you wanted to break up with me. "Lily, I no longer want to be with you," is what you said. We argued, long and hard. I felt like the world was crashing down on me. I thought to myself, how would I live without you? We had spent six years together as a couple. Would I cope? I felt like dying. "I will never let you go," I said. I wanted to fight for you. But you were adamant and you had made up your mind.
We broke up. I was left crying.
Eleven months ago I was reeling from the aftermath of our break-up. I cried, constantly, everyday. My work suffered. My health suffered. I tried to call you almost everyday to beg to be let into your life again. I thought I would never be happy again. My life without you was terrible. I missed you at every second. Everything I saw reminded me of you and the times we had.
My friends and family told me to stand up. "Lily, you're young, don't waste your life away crying over the past. Move on. If not, life will leave you behind."
I listen to what they say. But quietly I resent them, slightly. How did they know how I feel?
Ten months ago and I was still miserable. But it wasn't as bad as before. I cried less, maybe because I was running out of tears. But I began to concentrate on work again, and I began to take care of myself again. I still missed you, but now I kept quiet about it. I no longer tried to call you, although whenever I'm alone, I still read the text messages from you that I had saved, or look at our pictures together.
My friends ask me how I am, and I say "I'm okay. Alive." They told me to keep it up. I sighed and nodded.
Nine months ago I was looking into a mirror and decided I was unsatisfied. I was not quite over you yet, but I've been forcing myself to put it all behind. I thought that maybe I should pamper myself a bit. After two months of being miserable, I thought my looks suffered.
"Lily, you don't look as hot anymore," said my best friend to me. "Let's go for a makeover."
So I followed her for a makeover. We got our hair done; our nails. We went to a spa and for a massage. I must admit, at the end of that day, I felt pretty good. When a young guy did a double-take at me one day, I felt pretty damn good.
I still have it, I thought.
Eight months ago I was beginning to smile and laugh again. It's been four months since the break-up. But I was already slowly getting over you. I no longer associated physical objects with you, for a start. When I listened to this love song, I no longer thought "That's our song..". I just listened to it for what it is: a song.
As it was now clear that I was single, I begin getting a lot of attraction from the men in and around my work place. One of them asks me out, which I decline. A client of my company, this 50-plus year old Dato', leaves his business card on my table. Written on the back is 'I like you. Care for a drink?'. I scoff, but I feel flattered with all the attention.
"You're gorgeous and smart, so you shouldn't be surprised," said my best friend. "When do you want to start dating again? At least go out, meet people, have some fun."
"I don't know," I answered, but I asked myself the same question.
Seven months ago, and I have been single for five months. I was getting less moody and more cheerful. I started going out again with my friends, hanging out, meeting people. We frequented the clubs, restaurants and shopping centres in Kuala Lumpur often. My memories of you were now fading, like old photographs. They were still there, though. And sometimes when I saw a couple hand in hand, I thought of how nice it must be to have someone.
Strangely, it didn't make me feel depressed. My friends told me to enjoy being single while I can. They said maybe it was what I needed: time to focus on myself. And I agreed. I pampered myself.
I told myself I deserve to be happy, regardless of the past. I wanted to start dating again.
Six months ago and I was getting better day by day. I dressed more provocatively, and I was getting 5-6 invites for dinner or dates a day. I turned down most of them. The ones I did take, I just did for fun. They were nice men, but I wasn't attracted to them. Sometimes I wonder if I'm afraid of dating.
One of my friends got married. At the wedding, I couldn't help but wonder if I would have gotten married if we had stayed together. I dismissed the thought as I found it depressing.
Still, I began to miss the feeling of being in love with someone who would love you back.
Five months ago and I was at a charity dinner organized by my company. There were lots of other people around too. I was in a strapless, pastel blue evening dress. A charming, scruffy man wearing a black suit smiled at me. I tried to play it cool but couldn't help but smile back at him. Later that night, we talked. His name is Mikael. He is very handsome, despite his messy hair and goatee. We flirted like crazy; a skill I thought I had lost the day you and I broke up. Mikael made me blush countless of times.
At the end of that night, we exchanged phone numbers. When I got home, I received a text message saying: 'It was nice to meet you. Care for a drink sometime? My treat.'
I replied 'That would be lovely.'
Four months ago I was becoming livelier. My work improved, my bosses praised me, and my friends and family all said I looked better. I felt better, that was the thing. It had now been eight months since you and I broke up. Already, it felt like ages ago.
Mikael and I have been seeing each other frequently. He is witty and funny, charming but not nauseatingly so. He is very intelligent, and he speaks eloquently. There is something about him that is so different from you. I was very much attracted to him.
"He's hawt," said my best friend when I showed her a picture of Mikael. I nodded, grinning widely. I was beginning to think that something good was going to happen to me. I hoped.
Three months ago I could feel my heart beginning to truly heal. I was spring cleaning my apartment, and there was a lot of stuff from the days that you and I were together. They no longer tugged at my heartstrings or made me cry like they did eight or nine months ago. I stored them neatly inside a box and kept them in the store-room.
There, they would remain as memories. Good or bad, I wouldn't say. But memories nonetheless, and better than having no past at all. But I told myself that I would only be living for the present now.
Two months ago my family and friends began to ask me about my relationship with Mikael. They all knew I had been dating with him for about five months now. They asked me if there was anything lovey-dovey going on. I thought about this.
Mikael and I talked a lot on the phone. We texted frequently. We went out together almost everyday. I liked him. A lot. And it was pretty obvious he liked me too. He is always nice to me.
Soon I discovered that I missed him when he wasn't around. So I told him I missed him, to see what he would say.
"I miss you too," he said. In the dark chamber that was my heart, a candle was lit.
One month ago Mikael and I went our for a very nice dinner at KLCC. It was a quiet affair, and our talk was peppered by romantic innuendo. We kept giving hints to each other. I had enjoyed the months I had spent with him. We were dating, of course. Neither of us wanted to say anything yet, but both of us knew there was definitely something bigger happening between us.
That night, he held my hand as we strolled along the park. I put my head on his shoulder. It was a beautiful night; clear skies, cool and breezy. A perfectly romantic night. We talked softly with each other. I looked at his profile and sighed.
I was falling in love with him. Eleven months ago you broke up with me. Now I am falling in love with someone new, and it feels just like the first time.
Suddenly Mikael stopped and faced me. He smiled, and I saw that his ears were turning red.
"Lily," he said.
"Yes?"
"I'm in love with you."
I had smiled and started to cry; it was the first time I was crying in months. But these were tears of joy. I was touched. I put my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder.
"I love you too," I said.
Mikael and I are officially a couple now. I am very much in love with him, and he is in love with me. I hope this will last as long as I want it to. I'm not asking for forever, because I can't say what the future holds for me. I no longer want to promise or be promised eternity. I'm just grateful that I have today.
Twelve months ago I thought I would die, and that my world will end because I didn't have you. But look where I am now. It might have taken some time, but I healed. I still think about you and the days we spent together. But I'm not going to let my memories of the past cloud my present or future.
I know now that sometimes things don't go according to what we planned, and we have to accept that. When we broke up, I thought I could never love again. But Mikael showed up in my life and proved me wrong. So it must be true then how they say, 'When God closes one door, He opens another.' But I guess it's up to us to choose if we want to go through that door or not. And I know that life is much too big to hinge on one relationship... and no matter how bad things are, everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, then it's not the end.
I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but I guess I hope and pray that you're happy with whomever it is you're with. I don't hate you for ending our relationship, and I don't resent the fact that our love ended when I didn't want it to. I guess, the things that happened all led me to where I am now.
It's January 2010. I am sitting at my apartment balcony, drinking a mug of hot Milo, and content with the way things are. I am happy. And this is where I want to be.
