Great Expectations
When you buy a new car, you gotta maintain it. Run it in the unconventional way, bring it to a downslope and let the gravity overtake the engine. OIl changes every few thousands of kilometres, brake pad changes when you hear the noise-making shims screeching against your disc brake, tyre changes when you feel them aqua-planing in puddles of water. Feed it premium high-octane petrol to keep the combustion chambers clean.
When you get into a new relationship, you gotta sustain it. Prioritise your girl…or to be more specific…prioritise your time for your girl. Bring her out for dinner and movies. Watch out for those special dates and squeeze your creative juices to plan something unique. Sacrifice your beloved testosterone-induced activities like playing computer games or watching football. Take into account all little details like holding her hand when she meets your friends for the first time (cos she’s bound to be nervous), and emptying out some of your clothes in the wardrobe so that she gets to invade it with her own. Romantic long walks along mosquito-breeding water holes are a must. Tele-conversations that lasts for hours past midnight are essential.
I’m used to pulling my own weights. And I’m definitely used to running at my own pace….waltzing through the finishing line in my own style.
I’m used to being selfish. Without the need to consider the feelings of somebody special….I’m used to that.
I don’t mind being in a mad rush, racing to finish my errands in the day just to keep my night free for her. But it’s gotta be worth it. I don’t want to feel unappreciated. Especially when I really did try.
And I don’t understand human beings’ obsession with SMS. It has come to a point where people see missed calls on their mobile phones, they return that missed call with an SMS "You called?" *bangs head onto wall repeatedly*
I’m really upset at how she put down the phone at the end of our conversation. And I’m suddenly reminded of why I was so determined to stay un-attached. God damn expectations. It’s the greatest under-rated word in the English dictionary. I’m so proud of Charles Dickens for getting it right.
Can’t help but think to myself that the market rate has changed. I don’t remember it being so difficult. What used to be enough, now is inadequate. I can continue to explore all other excuses for myself. But I know better in actual fact. I have slackened and lost touch, at the same time refusing to acknowledge my own incompetencies.
I can’t sustain. And I find myself suffocating underneath the surface.
