I make a lot of discoveries while talking to people, teaching people, trying to advice people. Somehow, as I piece thoughts and ideas together to form a coherent argument, I make sudden realisations about a lot of stuff in life. Or rather, I articulate beliefs I've always had within me. For instance, I spoke to a friend of mine recently, who was having problems with her relationship and a third party. She told me that she felt that there were problems in her relationship, otherwise she wouldn't have been touched by whatever the third party did..no matter how sweet. And as she was entailing her dilemma, two things occured to me.
What does it mean when you ask someone to be your boyfriend/girlfriend, or when your answer to that question is a 'yes'? Maybe all the lovey dovey stuff like being allowed to hold hands and kiss, having exclusive rights to date you and such. But all these aside, I sincerely believe that saying 'yes' means
commitment. And what does commitment mean? To me, its essentially being true to the partner you have chosen to accept. That means not considering your options, not looking elsewhere and comparing, not upping and leaving when things start to turn a little sour, working hard together for the relationship to be successful and long lived. At the very heart of it, it simply means trying your very best to make the relationship happen, trying your very best to ensure the happiness of your partners happiness, for by asking the accepting him or her, you take his or her happiness and make it your responsibility. This is no small responsibility, for the joy and the pain you are capable of inflicting if you choose to handle this responsibility well or frivilently far exceeds the happiness or sorrow your partner can possibly derive from anyone else, including their parents.
And what does commitment entail? My troubled friend told me that a guy had entered her life as a third party to the relationship, showering her with care and concern, gifts and affection. Doing stuff like sms-ing her or chatting her up on msn, leaving stuff outside her door, looking her up and such. And on her part, she passively accepted all these gestures. Don't get me wrong. She did not actively seek and accept these gestures. Rather, she accepted those gestures because she did not want to hurt the third party, and didn't want to waste the effort that he put in (ie taking a cab down to her place, spending money to buy stuff for her and stuff...if reject him his trip would be wasted, the money spent of the stuff he bought would be wasted). She thought that if she passively accepted his gestures but did not reciprocate, he would, like most other suitors eventually give up.
What may have slipped her mind was that she has an obligation of commitment to her boyfriend. Surely you wouldn't be too happy if for instance another girl knitted a sweater for your boyfriend, gave it to him, and he wore it. Or if you're a guy, how would you feel if another guy bought your girl a pendant maybe, and she wore it around? The point is, having the obligation of commitment towards your other half, having taken on the responsibility for your partner's happiness, one should not accept any of these gestures from parties outside of the relationship. You wouldn't feel good if your partner accepted. And it wouldn't be fair to your partner as well. While this takes the place in the grey area between fidelity and cheating, you are in essence opening a window of opportunity for the third party to touch you with his or her actions. For instance, while my troubled friend kept reminding herself that she had a boyfriend, the third party's persistent attempts to perpetuate these gestures that she allowed and accepted, abeit passively, soon got through to her and touched her. Which is unfair to the boyfriend. And once she was touched, she started comparing the two of them, and things that were never of any importance to her suddenly became serious relationship issues which caused great strain on the relationship, which is doubly unfair to the boyfriend.
Again, the onus of commitment means that you should minimise, if not totally eliminate the chances that you will stray from your partner. And that means completely rejecting any outside parties who try to intrude into your relationship. Why take kindly to them when these jackals are destroying an otherwise happy relationship that you cherish. Hence, commitment would mean rejecting calls from persistent parties who do not get the message, ignoring sms-es and such. If they want to be friends, fine. But if their motive is to snatch you away from your partner, your commitment to your better half would mean that you need to take a step back and distance yourself from these people. A very fine example I'd witnessed was from my air stewardess neighbour back in my old home at Jurong East. She was attached, but a third party was trying to cut queue and sent her 999 roses and put them outside her door as a surprise on Valentine's day. When she realised who they were from, she simply shifted the roses to an unobtrusive corner in the corridor and ignored them from then on. Now that's what commitment is all about. Staying true to your loved one, and not allowing even the slightest chance that you would stray from him or her.
Passively accepting without reciprocating is not enough. If you think you'd hurt the third party by rejecting, think on this; the only way you'd eventually avoid hurting this third party would be by accepting his feelings for you and being together with him. At the same time, you're attached and have an obligation to your partner. How is it possible to fulfill both things at the same time? You'll have to hurt either one. And when the choice is between a lane cutting third party and the partner who has gone through thick and thin, done countless sacrifices for you throughout the time you've been together, someone you should be committed to and is wholly committed to you, the choice should be clear. It would be the cruelest thing in the world to tell your partner you're ending things with him when it's all because you allowed this other person to intrude in the relationship in the first place. Don't want to hurt your 'nice' friend then hurt your boyfriend/girlfriend meh? Cannot be what.
Which is why I absolutely detest third parties. Firstly, they know that the person they are interested in is attached. And if they go for that person, they are attempting to attain their own happiness at the expense of someone else's agony. On top of that, do they truly love the person they're after, or does it take on a more selfish note? Think on this: the third party jolly well knows that he will cause hurt not only to the partner of his target, but hurt and confusion to his target as well. The person being chased, if he/she allowed the third party in, would start to feel confused and upset. If someone does something to make you feel very confused and upset, does he/she really care for you? Or is it a more selfish want, in that the third party wants you for him/herself, no matter what. There is no such thing as a third party who is not selfish. I've heard countless stories of third parties who were oh so caring and sweet when they were chasing their target, but when they were rejected, started scolding and blaming their target, saying they hate him/her etc and making their target feel guilty. Duh. Wanna snatch people's partner, the person stay loyal and reject you, and you say is his/her fault? It's damn lame.
Moreover, if you are swayed by any third parties, can you ever consider yourself trustworthy again? If you could break the promise of commitment by leaving your partner for this third party, can you ever say with absolute certainty that if in the future, someone else comes along as a third party to your next relationship and tries to woo you, that you definately not be swayed? Especially since you've done it before. What about after marriage? Does it mean that there is the possibility you will have an affair or divorce your spouse for someone else? My advice in this matter is: don't go that way. All selfish self-justification aside, when faced with the raw fact that if you have done it before, and therefore can do it again, I'd imagine that it'd be hard for you to face yourself, seeing as to how many people you hurt.
Keep the promise of commitment if you're serious about the relationship. Especially if you're expecting the same from your partner. Doubly so if your partner is doing it for you. You wouldn't feel very good or secure if your partner were to entertain people who were interested in him/her, even if your partner did so passively. Your partner would feel the same if you did so as well.
The next thing I realised was the contradictory nature of most girls. I know this is nothing new...everyone knows girls are the most unfathomable creatures on the planet...heh heh. But that's not my point. Consider this. This girl hung on for many years to an aloof, apathetic and abusive boyfriend, hoping he would change. But when she later found another boyfriend who showered her with care and concern, she started thinking that all that wasn't enough and wanted more. It's weird..and something I don't understand even though she tried to explain.
I know it's pretty incoherent. So never mind you if you don't get it. Haha.
| The Part of You That No One Sees |
You are compassionate, caring, and soothing.
You like other people to depend on you...
In fact, you don't feel right unless you are helping someone out.
Underneath it all, you feel the burden of everyone's problems.
Without your guidance, you fear that many people's worlds would fall apart.
You like to feel in charge, even if it brings you a lot of stress. |
| Your Love Element Is Metal |
In love, you inspire and respect your partner.
For you, love is all about fusing together for one incredible life experience.
You attract others with wit and a bit of flash.
Your flirting style is defined by making others want and value you.
Greatness and optimism are the cornerstones of your love life.
You may let go too easily, but you never get weighed down by your past.
You connect best with: Earth
Avoid: Fire
You and another Metal element: will control and smother each other |
| You Are A Good Friend |
You're always willing to listen
Or lend a shoulder to cry on
You're there through thick and thin
Many people consider you their "best friend"! |
I'll end with a little story the fool sent me. I know it looks cluttered...but I'm too tired to sort things out.
*******************************************************8
What they don't understand about
birthdaysand what they never tell you is that when you're eleven, you're also ten,
and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and
three,
and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect
to feel eleven, but you don't. You open your eyes and everything's just
like yesterday, only it's today. And you don't feel eleven at all. You
feel like you're still ten. And you are --underneath the year that makes
you eleven.
Like some days you might say something
stupid, and that's the part of you that's still ten. Or maybe some days
you might need to sit on your mama's lap because you're scared, and that's
the part of you that's five. And maybe
one
day when you're all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you're
three, and that's okay. That's what I tell Mama when she's sad and
needs to cry. Maybe she's feeling three.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like
an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden
dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That's
how being eleven years old is.
You don't feel eleven. Not right away. It
takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven
when they ask you. And you don't feel smart eleven, not until you're almost
twelve. That's the way it is.
Only today I wish I didn't have only eleven
years rattling inside me like pennies in a tin Band-Aid box. Today I wish
I was one hundred and two instead of eleven because if I was one hundred
and two I'd have known what to say when Mrs. Price put the red sweater
on my desk. I would've known how to tell her it wasn't min instead of just
sitting there with that look on my face and nothing coming out of my mouth.
"Whose is this?" Mrs. Price says, and she
holds the red sweater up in the air for all the class to see. "Whose? It's
been sitting in the coatroom for a month.
"Not mine," says everybody. "Not me."
"It has to belong to somebody," Mrs. Price
keeps saying, but nobody can remember. It's an ugly sweater with red plastic
buttons and a collar and sleeves all stretched out like you could use it
for a jump rope. It's maybe a thousand years old and even if it belonged
to me I wouldn't say so.
Maybe because I'm skinny, maybe because she
doesn't' like me, that stupid Sylvia Saldivar says, "I think it belongs
to Rachel." An ugly sweater like that, all raggedy and old, but Mrs. Price
believes her. Mrs. Price takes the sweater and puts it right on my desk,
but when I open my mouth nothing comes out.
"That's not, I don't , your not...Not mine," I finally
say in a little voice that was maybe me when I was four.
"Of course it's yours," Mrs. Price says. "I
remember you wearing in once." Because she's older and the teacher, she's
right and I'm not.
Not mine, not mine, not mine, but Mrs. Price
is already turning to page thirty-two, and math problem number four. I
don't know why but all of a sudden I'm feeling sick inside, like the part
of me that's three wants to come out of my eyes, only I squeeze them shut
tight and bite down on my teeth real hard and try to remember today I am
eleven, eleven. Mama is making a cake for me tonight, and when Papa comes
home everybody will sing
Happy
birthday, happy birthday to you.
But when the sick feeling goes away and I open my
eyes, the red sweater's still sitting there like a big red mountain. I
move the red sweater to the corner of my desk wit my ruler. I move my pencil
and books and eraser as far from it as possible. I even move my chair a
little to the right. Not mine, not mine, not mine.
In my head I'm thinking how long till lunchtime,
how long till I can take the red sweater and throw it over the school yard
fence, or even leave it hanging on a parking meter, or bunch it up into
a little ball and toss it in the alley. Except when math period ends Mrs.
Price says loud and in front of everybody , "Now Rachel, that's enough,"
because she sees I've shoved the red sweater to the tippy-tip corner of
my desk and it's hanging all over the edge like a waterfall, but I don't'
care.
"Rachel," Mrs. Price says. She says it like she's getting mad.
"You put that sweater on right now and no more nonsense."
"But it's not--"
"Now!" Mrs. Price says.
This is when I wish I wasn't eleven, because all the years inside
of me--ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two and one-- are
pushing at the back of my eyes when I put one arm through one sleeve of
the sweater that smells like cottage cheese, and then the other arm through
the other and stand there with my arms apart like if the sweater hurts
me and it does, all itchy and full of germs that aren't even mine.
That's when everything I've been holding in since this
morning, since when Mrs. Price put the sweater on my desk, finally lets
go, and all of a sudden I'm crying in front of everybody. I wish I was
invisible but I'm not. Im eleven and it's my birthday today and I'm crying
like
I'm
three in front of everybody. I put my head down on the desk and bury
my face in my stupid clown-sweater arms. My face all hot and spit coming
out of my mouth because I can't stop the little animal noises from coming
out of me, until there aren't any more tears left in my eyes, and it's
just my body shaking like when you have the hiccups, and my whole head
hurts like when you drink milk too fast.
But the worst part is right before the bell rings
for lunch. That stupid Phyllis Lopez, who is even dumber than Sylvia Saldivar,
says she remembers the red sweater is hers! I take it off right away and
give it to her, only Mrs. Price pretends like everything's okay.
Today I'm eleven. There's cake Mama's making for
tonight, and when Papa comes home from work we'll eat it. There'll be candles
and presents and everybody will sing
Happy
birthday, happy birthday to you, Rachel, only it's too late. I'm eleven today. I'm eleven, ten, nine, eight,
seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one, but I wish I was one hundred
and two. I wish I was anything but eleven, because I want today to be far
away already, far away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in
the sky, so tiny-tiny you have to close your eyes to see it.
Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.
The truth.
Click to view
The main attraction...
Pow!
A road named after a vulgarity?
Attention all Davids...
The truth.
Click to view
The main attraction...
Pow!
A road named after a vulgarity?
Attention all Davids...
Not a river in Egypt.
Movie of the year!
How to cross humps if you're at 0km/h?
A true blue bike lover.
Click to view.
Our new national currency.
Same thing for a higher price=great?
WAHAHAHAHAHAA. So can smoke here anot?
To sell, or not to sell...
