love overrated

some may have difficulty grasping the concept, though none more than me, that i actually miss my baby brother- though not so much the baby part- because he's already 14 years of age, as of 2 days ago. but i do. there's no one around to bribe me into playing midtown madness on his XBOX- unlocking cool new racing cars, paint jobs, cheat codes, creating mayhem by smashing things and high-flying stunts on ramps. no one to laugh over jay leno- 99 cents, political jokes and digs at bush with. no one to fight over the remote control with. no one to bully. no one to sit on. no one to play with. no one to update me on the latest 'cool' gadgets and technical hoo-ha. (like i really care)

oh well, might as well enjoy the peace+the flatscreen tv+king sized bed while that someone and the OTHER less missable (miss.a.ble) someone returns home from penang tomorrow.

on a slightly different note altogether, i have to ask,"how long does love last?"

as much as i'd like to think that love lasts forever- as cinderella, snow white, sleeping beauty and all other disney creations claim to be living proof of- my cynicism knows otherwise.

it doesn't have to be a love for someone, how about a someTHING? (the someone part comes later, inevitably)

while cycling home from piano, i was asking myself, "what is WRONG with me?" out loud. i have no idea. none at all. before, during and after class, i was in a daze. i seem to be in a perpetual daze of late.

when i'm learning a new piece, my eyes just can't seem to focus on the notes and i keep losing track of which bar i'm supposed to be playing. my right hand can't coordinate with my left. do i have ADD? you would think that with some gentle prodding, i'd get better. but no... the more you rush me or grill me or yell at me or do anything that has anything to do with making me move/think/act faster, it only seems to make me even more dazed and confused.

i feel sorry for ms anne. her having to teach me like i'm some retarded child. i DO feel retarded at times. she speaks slowly and pronounces each word with such care, you'd think i was made of porcelain OR that i was seriously stupid. i appreciate her patience and kindness. she's probably the best person i've ever met in my life. very kind, loving and giving. selfless and always there to listen. i tell her everything. i tell her things other people would confide to their parents. i do the opposite, i suppose.

when i was little, people always said i was slow. i was slow to speak, hello? they thought i was a mute. i was a slow eater, they gave me endless grief over my not being able to swallow my food fast enough. 'always chewing, never swallowing.' my old maid would beat me for eating so slowly. my mother joked that even my blood moved slowly- i had to withdraw blood for some tests and it took awhile to rise into the syringe.

ok. backtrack.

so i arrived at the conclusion that maybe, i had gone past my peak. with everything that you do, there will be a rise and fall, peaks and low points- just like on any graph/chart. like in any relationship, there will be the happy moments and the sad ones too. then there comes a point when you just stop enjoying doing what you're doing. it ceases to bring you joy. it becomes almost mechanical to you. you do it because you're supposed to, because everyone else expects you to. not because YOU truly love it.

that was not the case here. I KNEW. for years i had known, but i wasn't ALLOWED to quit. she said it would make me a quitter. i didn't want to be a quitter. i had no choice but to go on. but the time had come when i just could not go on pretending to be happy when all it gave me was grief. endless grief. the pain of defeat. over and over again. watching all those happy faces while having to MAKE DO with not being good enough. it's not that i didn't try. for 12 years, i tried as hard as i could. i simply wasn't good enough. i loved it. but there was always something wrong with me. my technique. my posture. my poses. my jumps were not high enough. my feet were not turned out enough. i didn't point hard enough. i didn't smile enough. i didn't stretch far enough.

i was never good enough.

she was kind enough to never say it to my face. but it was in those little gestures, the subtle signs that killed me without her even knowing it. the compliments i never received. the looks of approval that passed me by. the words of praise that always went to someone else.

of course i got complimented and praised, but never as often as i would've liked.

sometimes, you just know. some people are born with it (it being the 'facilities' aka the body), they just flick their heads and do a triple pirouette. easy peasy. no sweat. some aren't. i was never the graceful swan, i saw myself more in the ugly duckling. the awkwardness. the clumsiness. the uglyness.

i'll never go back. i'll never dance again. not because i don't love it enough. but because i love it too much.

so really, how long does love last? how long CAN it last? be it the love of something, or someone. sooner or later, it'll expire. all things do. love has an expiry date. it's just a matter of time.

a monk once said, "nothing is permanent. the only thing permanent in life, is death." how ironic. oh by the way, this was said at a funeral. albeit morbid, but nonetheless true.

piano or ballet. at one point or another, my interest died. it gets renewed, for whatever reason. then it dies again. it's just a matter of reviving life into my interest when it dies. is that what love is all about? you love someone. you get bored with it's routineness. you find a reason to love that person again. along the road love fades into oblivion. it becomes more of an easy companionship, rather than the passionate romance we all hope it to be.

love: highly overrated. short shelf life. has an expiry date, 3 years max.

ROMANCE SOLD SEPARATELY.

partnership for life? more like, for now.