I wonder if I always knew, whilst a child years ago, that I would find myself in a cyclic dilemma as an adult; one of borders and divides that I cannot and will not cross yet wonder what it would be like, how easy it would be, if only if only if only-
Was that why, even long ago when I was merely a child, I was constantly adamant and desperate to protect my heart?
A variation, in no particular order, of words and feelings I’d shared and confided with Em during our Laos trip:
“I have realized that for myself, when it comes to romantic love, it will not be easy. Already I don’t have that inclination – perhaps this is in truth a defense mechanism – which makes it hard to have a drive and motivation to go for it; but I’ve come-to-terms with the reality that for me, this will not be easy. I have a preference and type that’s consistent – now I just don’t care. I’ll like whoever I like and take it from there, but I know that road will be uphill.”
“Although I can never claim to be fully this or that – this half/half and otherness will always be a point of contention and confusion – I think I identify more with the Chinese side… how do I put this? In the sense of work ethics; drive; views. I think my friends realize and agree with this too, which is why I can find a fit with them.
But it’s very different when it comes to being friends – where we naturally respect and tolerate, celebrate even, our differences – versus as partners. Cos I find that with my friends too, we’re all alike in our urban-ness and Western and modern influences yet we go home to a different mindset. The languages we speak at home are also different… no one brings just anyone back, y’know? Right?
And with me… the thing with me… I may be ‘as Chinese’ as they are – but I don’t know how to come in easy on the Muslim part. I’m very… Muslim. You agree, too. I have clear set of rules and principles, views that stem from my faith. I don’t want to scare anyone, but I don’t know how to hide this part of myself too. I don’t think I can anymore? I wouldn’t want to. But I don’t know how to come in easy; there’s nothing light about this.”
“Still… despite it all… knowing it’s an uphill battle because there’s always going to be that racial and religious divide… because I’m a person of faith, I’m able to believe in the 1% – even in an odds of 99%, I choose to hold onto that 1%: there will be a person who will love God as much as I do, even if we didn’t start off from the same point.”
In my late-twenties, over and over, I keep finding myself desperately clinging onto that miracle and odd of 1% – a person, just one person, who would give me a fighting chance and take me on as a leap of faith. I want to be a choice and decision.
The ocean of confusion I was swept under late last year was in truth not one person – it’s been here all along, slowly rising to the surface. By opening my Pandora’s box of extremely vulnerable feelings last year, I’d in truth uncovered thus unearthed long, deeply hidden feelings of longing.