I never came home the same.

He isn't around lately.
He's got work assignments overseas, which is good because I finally got sometime alone to think.

When I first got here I had too much to be worried about, I have no rooms to think about relationship. Then when I began settling down, he came by so I barely have time for myself. Nine-to-five (Actually it's eight-to-five-thirty) kinda job isn't my muse yet without this I won't be able to keep myself financially relieved. I hate the fact I knew what Maslow's Hierarchy is, and exactly where I am - the bottom. I needed money, so here I am.

Okay, I got side-tracked.

So, I barely had time for myself, until now that he's away. I enjoy this distance and space. Good enough to bend yet to break us. We are finally getting on with our own agendas and not feeling as though I am the only oyster on the table. That is good news to me.

Y'know I have this weird clock in myself that when I am alone I always awake. Too awake at night. It's really off because even after a long long day I should have collapse and doze off, I don't. I'll be up on bed thinking about irrelevant stuff and sometimes there will be you. I guess because we use to talk about making that "sleeping dust"with sugar and salt and I never got to make one and try them.

Remember you asked me, who broke me? I said it was you and I have been thinking about it. You are not the only one, should have been the answer.

- - -

I never came home the same. 

The truth is, I really liked him. I liked his voice that was once I label as charming. I liked his scent that I once crave for. 

I had this trip once with his family to Vietnam. I never went overseas before. That was the first and little did I know, that was the trip I'll never forget. 

I was preoccupied with photographs. It was my prime time. I had projects from university and assignments from known connections. That day, somehow, something was wrong and it wasn't difficult to tell from his facial expression. I was trying to get an answer from him, but I'm just too lazy to fuel his anger on whatever that is. I left him alone. That evening, I asked him again and for the first time that day he finally decided to talk. 

He said in that voice I do not recognise, "You are not even trying to interact with my family. You're just constantly taking photographs". Tears welled up. I wanted to defend myself but I had nothing in my mind.  The next thing he said, "You should dry up your tears. My parents would see it". That very moment he ended his sentence, his parents walked out to meet us, and happily asking us to take a photograph since the scene was beautiful. I widened my eyes, took a deep breathe and smiled to his mom. We took the photo.

I walked straight up to my bag, stuffed my camera in and storm straight for the toilet. It was the biggest lesson I had learnt in mere 5 minutes. 

1. I suck at conversations and I shall stop trying. 

2. My photographs are shitty and I shall stop taking. 

3. My acting skill on the other hand, is pretty good. 

Faking a smile wasn't difficult. 

I cried in the bus, with his tired head rested on my shoulder. 

Faking a relationship proved nothing harder to me since. 

- - -

I never told anyone about it. I mean, somehow my ideology about relationship don't sync so well with everyone else. They say they cannot understand how could I speak to those who broke me. They say they cannot understand why didn't I broke up when I know I wasn't in love. They say they don't understand how could I be so tough. They say they don't understand how could I just walk away when I want. They say I always have upper hand. They ask me why was I torturing him. They say he loves me more than  I did. 

And then they say that I don't understand. 

So be it. 

I am not to be a poem to be understood. 

Jean