The Pursuit of Love

How does one get over a rejection? A couple months ago I had wished to experience what loving someone felt like. Not some flimsy crush but something of substance, something uncontrollable and steadfast. As Shakespeare poignantly penned: “love is not love which alters when it altercation finds”. That was what I wanted to experience. Fast forward and here I am, sitting at this desk, struggling to overcome my senseless emotions.

I was drawn to him first as a friend who was clever, funny, and considerate. There was no sense of romance in our friendship, it was just great fun to be with him. Then, as time progressed and I learned more and more about him, I began to constantly think about him. I couldn’t get him out of my head, even though we didn’t have shared classes or faculties. Now this wasn’t exactly romantic either, as I do have  the habit of losing myself in my thoughts. Despite our differences, we managed to maintain hangouts. Our meetups comprised of transit and the odd lunch here and there. With these moments I fell–hard. Initially I didn’t think I’d liked him, I didn’t really even see him as a “man”. I was startled out of my perspective when we went to watch a movie together. It had meant to be a group affair, but due to schedules and timing, it ended up being just the two of us. This was totally fine and normal, but when I got there and the lights dimmed and I turned to him to ask a question about the context of the film, my cheek grazed his. I remember my heart sort of clenched and quickened, which surprised me. I was alarmed and I looked at him with my eyebrows stitched together in confusion. His eyes were of course glued to the screen in rapt attention (ha.). Over the course of the 2 hour film, I would turn and whisper and graze his cheek every once in a while asking about the plot earnestly, and once in a while in an attempt to slyly touch his cheek too (hey, I’m young, don’t judge.). When we left the theater, we ended up chatting for a bit before we split. I brushed off the feeling as a side effect of hormones and lust and fell asleep. Little did I know this was the beginning of the seed which would later bloom.

Time went on, and life did too, and the year proved to be both challenging and turbulent. I encountered some of the hardest moments as my health deteriorated and complications cropped up. I found myself in the emergency room and at the dental office multiple times. Alongside my physical issues, I was under a lot of mental strain due to my academic workload. Everything was taxing, and I constantly felt under pressure. In these dark times, he was there to shake me out of it, and to remind me to breathe and let go of my mistakes and the imperfections. It wasn’t like he became my life support or anything, but he definitely impacted me positively during that time. His loyalty and care surprised and touched me, and that’s when my feelings became more than platonic. As cliche and awful as it sounds, I fell for him. He became a permanent fixture in my mind and my phone, like a sticky, sweet, molasses which I could not detangle myself from. I found myself thinking about him and smiling absently, and I was horrified and happy. How did he feel?

This became my dilemma over the course of 2 months. Do I quash my feelings and continue our wonderful friendship or do I confess my feelings and risk rejection but also acceptance? I had never ever expressed my affections for anyone before, but I had also never felt so strongly for someone before. In the end, I felt compelled to tell him how I felt. It was painful to be yearning for more, and to continually calculate and dissect his actions in an attempt to find hope.

I told him how I felt, and it felt like the longest stretch of time waiting for his answer. His rejection was simple and very kind, which was characteristic of him. It was really hard dealing with it. The women I had never understood, who sobbed and ate ice cream when rejected, became like second sisters to me. I broke down and craved sweets, anything to sate my heartbreak. My best friends cheered me on and told me there were better people out there.



Gradually, things improved, and my heart no longer clenches when I see him. We’re still really good friends, and he’s been really good with treating me normally. On a good day, I don’t think about him at all either. Yet there are still moments, just like now, where I can’t help thinking about him, and wishing he could’ve said yes, and reciprocated my feelings. I want to be cuddled and to be loved (though that might also be my unstable hormones again). I wrote this in hopes of it being a cathartic release of my suppressed feelings, and I think to some extent I do feel a little more relieved. I don’t regret telling him how I felt (or feel), and in fact, it was liberating, albeit crushing at the same time. I wanted to let you all know that it’s beautiful loving someone, and if you do, I advise you to pursue it. Regardless of the result, it’ll be memorable.




Post Graduation infatuation

Change is in the air; as our grad hats were tossed up without a care, I felt an enormous sense of euphoria; a sense of new beginnings and growth. Now the high has finally ebbed away, leaving me feeling empty and brittle. Everyone responds to change in their own way; some pull away from age old relationships to embrace new ones, while others cling harder to the past, in a desperate attempt to avoid foreign ground.

As for me, I am on the fence; like a deer in headlights I’ve merely stood stricken as change comes racing towards me. Along with grad there has been shifts in my friend circle; a certain shift in dynamic. I’m not sure if I’m the only one, but recently I’ve been feeling like the duck amongst my swan friends. It is disconcerting as they laugh and cheer together and I sit on the side; some people may comment that maybe it’s just me not making an effort to be sociable. I thought about that, and no matter how i turn it around in head, I can only come to the conclusion to a change in my character, both physically and emotionally. My interests have matured and so has my strength. No longer can I spent all nighters without some intense ramifications (day time zombie), and laughter comes at the cost of some serious strength (I feel like I’ve run a marathon afterwards lol.) I’m old. As much as that may anger some peers (sorry mom and dad.) I feel like the world has finally taken it’s toll on me.

Now that I’ve come to this revelation, I am troubled by what to do. This newfound separation between my friends and I is not budging, despite all my best efforts. I feel brittle and tired as new responsibilities sprout in the garden of my life (pre-driving test anxiety anyone?) Yet I feel stronger and looser now that I’ve explained it all to you.

I’ve decided. I will cast off this self imposed anxiety and battle each day and change as it arrives. It’s pretty foolish of me to predict what will happen; maybe I’m just in a rut, maybe I’m just thinking too much. That’s what I love; how in the world there’s no such thing as “for sure”; at least nothing that we humans predict (look at the countless mistaken weather forecasts.) 🙂




Panic! After the Breakup

After my two weeks of reflection and thought, I decided to break up with my boyfriend. It was odd, I found that once my decision was made, planning and acceptance followed quite easily. Now, 1 week in, I am struggling to adapt to the change. Committing yourself to a relationship comes with a price. When you break it off, a part of your heart is sacrificed. Recently, I’ve been struggling with frequent panic attacks; I feel as though there is a physical hole in my heart. The bravery and determination I had in severing my ties is being eaten away every day with the onslaught of emotions I experience in his absence. (It’s a total lie, once you break up with someone, you can’t be friends.)  Even now as I write this post, I feel a tumultuous wave of mixed emotions. Sadness due to the sudden distance, regret for the time and opportunities I lost, and an inexplicable feeling of loss (not just for him). It was especially hard for me as I had to be the strong and ruthless one, despite his injured expressions and pleas for reconsideration. The kind thing was to cleanly break the relationship. Thankfully I achieved it. It is just hard in the quiet of the night, when isolation creeps into my heart and makes me shiver.

Any ideas on how to cheer up?




It’s ridiculous what I do to avoid confrontation. I don’t know about you, but I’m a rather indecisive wishy washy character, in fact that was my nickname a couple years ago. Now I say a couple years ago, and yes I am implying that I’ve improved in making decisions. Yet in all my experiences in making decisions and confrontations, I cannot stop my heart from quivering, my knees from shaking in the face of adversity. A couple weeks ago I mentioned my struggles in the current relationship I’m in. Today I’ve come to declare my decision; I’m breaking up with him. It was easy, once I came to this decision to stick with it; the difficulty lies in the execution. You see, it’s his birthday this week. You can’t split with someone when it’s their birthday, you just can’t. It’s hard; I cannot lie to him but I cannot withdraw contact either. *Sigh. Whenever he says “I miss you”, I struggle to answer back. What do you do when you are on cross paths with someone and they think they’re still holding your hand? 


I have to meet up with him and I have no idea what to say or what to do. How do I broach this topic without miscommunication and minimal hurt? ueurghuerughueurugh. 

wish me luck, 


Vocab Rehab

“We are what we repeatedly do, excellence then is not an act but a habit.”

This quote rings especially clear in my heart today. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always prided myself on my clean mouth. In fact, I have a reputation of not swearing, and no I’m not a prude, at least I hope not haha. So far, I’ve done a good job of disciplining myself not to utter the “words”, but recently, perhaps because of my recent experience of adulthood, the leash I hold over my tongue has loosened. The power and effect of swearing is so paradoxical, much like currency, the rarer it’s use, the more potent it becomes when utilized. The alarming thing is the “words” have become my every day ordinary words; they coexist with my daily vocabulary, and the hesitation I always experienced when I used them has disappeared. In the beginning, using the swears was liberating and cathartic; it was because of this taste of power and control (this is real, although a bit melodramatic I admit ;)), I’ve become addicted and inebriated by it’s use, abusing it daily without thought. Unwittingly, I allowed my addiction to become a poor habit, and it wasn’t until I called my sister a B*tch (over something trivial too) that I realized just how far I let myself go. Her eyes widened and a tangible effect rippled across her features. She was hurt, bad, and my anger simmered down just as quick as it inflated. The vocabulary you know affects your thinking and personality (scientifically proven:), and in allowing swears into my life, I’ve become a crabbier, and more impatient person. In a way, becoming acquainted with these “swears” was equivalent to constantly holding a loaded gun; instead of thinking calmly, out of habit, I draw the gun of my swears causing catastrophic damage to my loved ones. Today I enter a “vocab rehab”, and encourage you all to join me as well :). I will not be allowing myself to reach for swears, and will be keeping a chart of my progress, and hopefully  will not (fingers crossed) encounter any blips. 


On a side note, I have been utterly bored recently, any ideas of what I should be doing with my time? 



Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian

It’s been a shocking 1-2 years (sorry I can’t count :)) since I last blogged a post. I began with the title “strugglingfish” on a whim; I had just viewed a video of a fish bowl shattering (no judging my vid tastes), and its contents; including one gold fish flopping on a hardwood floor. In retrospect, the image of the “struggling” goldfish definitely correlated with how I perceived my life back then. Today, as I flip through my old posts and reread bits and pieces, I am utterly mortified. What was I writing? Rampant grammatical errors (part-time grammar nazi:)), absolutely thin material, and a lack of purpose. They should ban teens from ever touching a blog, until at least the respectable age of 20 (jk). Honestly though, I cannot unsee the horrors of my past writing. 

Today, I don’t know exactly why, but I wanted to pop in and say hi. Hi. Okay there’s more to the story, obviously, with the title of “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian”, I mustn’t mislead you and disappoint. I’d like to discuss the age old favorite topic of the world. Love, or rather imitation love. (*Note the pun) 

I don’t know about you, but I was a 90’s kid, and my childhood consisted of the Disney Princesses; Aurora, Mulan, Belle, you name it, I loved it. That skewed perception of love has unfortunately held on today, to my embarrassment D: As such, I have constantly held my breath in anticipation of my prince in charming. He would come upon a white horse, all bedazzled in a white suit and kneeling before me, he says the three magical words, “I love you.” 

Through my life, I’ve had a couple of relationships, but nothing really seems to last. I know, you’re probably saying it’s me that’s the problem, common denominator and all, but I don’t think so. Society’s deluded me, and I don’t believe the blame should all be on my plate. No one is remotely like Prince Phillip, and Aurora doesn’t exist either; it’s universally acknowledged, yet I can’t stop my palpitating heart (sigh). With the failures and half-assed relationships I’ve experienced (I was 8 then so sue me), the term love seems a wonderful theory and a near impossible reality. The only thing feeding my hopes for real love is my parents’ relationship. What is one supposed to do? I’m in a relationship with a guy that I question having any love feelings for. He’s a great guy, but the spark is missing. Without the spark, all I see are the flaws and issues in the relationship.  It’s driving me insane with guilt, and the lone battle for true love is making me quite sad. Anyone have advice? Please comment thanks.