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Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Kacau (or "Disturbed" in plain English)


Source: Zenhabits, Sound of silence
My girlfriend hasn't been very forthcoming with me. These past few days she has gone out with an unnamed friend -- "I'm going out with a friend." "Who is that, dear?" "A friend of a friend." I've been living with the aching feeling that somewhere in that definition of "friend" is a "male friend", or perhaps "guy friend". This queasy feeling has tied up my tummy in knots, making it very difficult for me to sleep these past few days. It's been preying on my imagination as well. Would I one day become a cuckolded husband? What has been happening behind my back? When she says that she wants "excitement", did she mean she wants s*x? The company of other men?

I've decided to save a "snapshot" of the particularly unsettling post from her blog.

Tonight, when I called her, she said that she was on the Federal Highway. Check: 11:50pm. Waited one hour and then called again: 12:50am. She was home. She was going to charge her mobile phone, goodnight she said. But I felt so ill at ease that I had to call again: The telephone that I was calling, was busy -- said the operator. This was not the first time, I noted, and recalled that more than a few nights she had been hogging the mobile phone for hours. When pressed, she said that the telephone was "spoilt". (But it works fine when she needs it to -- go figure.) So tonight I called her house phone, and she picked it up. "I am sorry, dear," I said, "I had to ask. I couldn't sleep for a few nights already." "What is it?" she asked, her voice getting a little tense. "I read your blog, and I couldn't help wondering who it was that you were going out with..."

She lost her temper at me, or rather unleashed a torrent of pent up emotions at me, and started telling me how we have been for these past three weeks: Me working on weekends, and she stranded at home. She hadn't gone anywhere. She felt that she didn't have a say in the house that I had purchased, that I didn't respect her desire for certain tiles on the floor, tiles on the walls, tiles in the kitchen, the wardrobe, the kitchen cabinets, and the modification for the toilet. (The contractor had said that the squatting toilet was built with soft cement on top of other people's squatting toilet, and it would be dangerous. She insisted that it could be done.) She felt that I blocked her from entering the house. She felt that it wasn't our house because I had done everything without involving her. (In truth I told her when my mom and my aunt wanted to go purchase tiles, but I could not join because I was involved with the Ar. K. K. B sale and purchase agreement over the weekend. She declined the offer.)

She spoke repeatedly about her sister's wedding over the weekend, where I had not gone to her house on Saturday evening to celebrate her sister's getting married, and the wedding at the boy's side in Serendah/Rawang. She felt ashamed when asked by relatives, "When is your turn to get married?" and "Where is your boyfriend?" She simply replied that she wasn't sure about getting married and that I had work to do. (It's true, I had work to do. Originally I had planned to iron out the financing details on Ar. K. K. B's case. But that didn't happen. I went with my parents to the condominium.) She said that her sister (the bride) had about 20 to 30 friends. (It was, after all, her wedding.)

Finally, she was unhappy that I hadn't taken the initiative to look her up. Her trip to Taiwan is drawing near, and I had not participated in the talks. (I recall that I got a telephone call from her, when she was already on the way to Jaya One Old Town White Coffee in PJ for a discussion on the Taiwan trip.) She said that she disliked me working all the time. Working together did not mean that I am cleared of my responsibility to take her out for dates, movies, food. She said that in the past few weeks she had been the one to initiate the dates all the time. When her sister's wedding swung by over the last weekend, I had invited her to the office to work together. She said that I hadn't called her for dates or outings in the past three weeks. (If social functions count, then I had invited her to a few seminars/political events.) She said that she had gotten tired of doing all the hard work, and she felt like a beggar. She did not want to feel like a beggar any more. She had waited for me to sense it and she was appalled that I had felt "something" only after reading her blog.

She said that I thought our anniversary three weeks ago was as simple as buying her a keyboard simply just to appease her. When she wanted to learn certain songs, I had lost my cool and hit the keys hard. She felt pissed off because I wasn't patient with her. And she asked me how many things I had gotten done over this weekend. Had I gotten a lot of work done? She said that I had promised to delete off people that she didn't like, from my Facebook account. I had time to write comments and post some updates, but I didn't have time to delete people from my Facebook account. Plus the fact that I had promised not to simply add girls on Facebook. (I had changed the password on my Facebook account and disconnected my Facebook account -- sometime last Wednesday.) Plus I had the cheek to call her at her house number just to see if she had reached home. She asked me if I still loved her. I said that I love her. She said it must be a habit of mine to say it, because she couldn't feel it. She said that I should have listened to her, earlier, when she said we should register our marriage while she is in the mood for marrying. Now, she has lost that mood.

She asked me if I understood everything she had been saying. I said yes, I think she is talking about three things. First, she wants to go on dates with me. Second, she was unhappy that I didn't seek her opinion in the house matter. Third, she wanted to meet more friends. (At least, that was the thing in her blog.) She said she wouldn't repeat herself, she wasn't a beggar. If she saw me tomorrow, then good. If not, it's just another working day for her. She said it was time for her to sleep.

As we hung up the phone, I realised one thing. I still didn't know who her mystery date(s) had been. She hadn't disclosed a single thing about those "friends". Not the mysterious date tonight on the Federal Highway. Nor the mysterious dates from last week. Sigh! It's better to refrain from asking. The big question mark on top of the head will pop up from time to time. I'll find a way to stuff it away. It's also not the first time that I've noticed it, she's really moody sometimes. Happy one moment and petulant the next.

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