I got a job. Finally.
I’m working in a coastal town in East Malaysia. Resuming life as an anak dagang after approximately 7 and half months. Far away from my family.
I had an argument with Mak when I chose to work in this state. I know she is worried because;
1) like all mothers in the world, she’s worried the daughter is staying far away,
2) and the said daughter is moving out AGAIN after studying abroad for 6 years (plus 2 years in prep college+2 years in boarding school)
3) the daughter is still unmarried, so chances are, she has to remain there for an unknown period of time unless she resigned,
4) she really hoped I will settle down in my hometown, which I definitely will, but don’t know when.
I do feel guilty for making her worried. I have always been since I called her, crying and confessing I skipped Dental Material exam some 7 years ago. I have always feel like I’m a failure, the black sheep in the family.
Now I’m adjusting to working life and this city. So far, it’s good.
I’m hoping this new life in this new place will bring a new meaning for myself.
You know? That feeling when you know you are going to fail no matter what because of your mediocre performance during the interview, when you know you can actually do better but you falter and struggle to answer the question, because you totally misunderstood the question, when she actually asked such a simple question yet you stammer through and through, in front of eight panels and two other candidates?
Entering 2017 battered and broken.
Luckily I’m surrounded by my loud and boisterous family, that keeps me from crying at least.
A friend had said, my liking had became a bad habit. Waiting and trying to catch his attention which had proven futile over the years.
And a bad habit MUST be removed. No matter how painful the process is.
So, I ended up confessing for the second and last time to the same person. I did not wait for a reply, I had known the answer anyway.
I told him not to reply. It’s embarrassing enough to confess to the same person twice, it’s even more humiliating to read a rejection for the second time.
So, I blocked him on all social medias. This way, I won’t be able to wait and hope someday somehow he will notice me, because he will not be able to see any of my posts again.
This is the end.
I was cleaning and packing my books when I found my old journal. The last entry was on July 2014. Apparently, I unintentionally stopped writing in the journal after starting this blog.
It was not a long journal. It started around later half of 2010 when I first came here. I rarely wrote, there weren’t many entries (even this blog has more posts lol).
But reading the journal made me teared up a little. I can see a young lady longed for the love that will never be. The courage, the emails, the shattered hope. The loneliness, the moments, the 3 minutes 3 seconds call. The bitter dreams.
If I would sum up the journal in a word, it will be bittersweet.
I finally found an apartment to stay for the last 6 months here. It was a small room with an attached bathroom and a small kitchen. It was actually a 3-bedroom flat but due to the really weird floor plan(this building is apparently the oldest apartment ever built in the city), the landlord decided to convert it into 2 separate units. The smaller unit is mine and the bigger kitchen, hall and 2 bedroom will be rented by a family.
I told Mak how vast the differences are between my current apartment and that flat. I am basically moving from the poshest apartment in the area to a small, poorly lit room (natural lighting is at the minimum-have to switch on the lamp during the day). And the window freaking opens into the corridor where people can actually see inside the room.
I have to buy a very thick curtain.
And I will never open that window.
But the plus point is that I am going to stay alone! I can do whatever I want with my “sacred” kitchen haha. Under my current financial status, the rent is the cheapest among all the available rooms(other available rooms came with a housemate though which, NO).
The main thing that bothers me about the flat is the window-it sucks. Big time. Major failure. Questionable architect qualification. I’m very fond of large open windows and lots of natural lighting like my current room.
But as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.