Back in Singapore and returned to the usual grind. Sunday nights have resumed to become characterised by a familiar tightening in the chest at the prospect of a new daunting week ahead. Hate Sunday night, feels like homework night. Have got to write a report for Miranda to vet before tomorrow, think I'll just switch on the telly. The Simpsons is showing.
8.45pm: Finding it impossible to concentrate with all the fantasies about going on mini-breaks with Jon. Head is filled with moony visions about living in a flat with him and exercising in parks together as a couple as opposed to lonely singleton. Not a person who exercises but perhaps he could change me. Barely started in this relationship and I already have expectations. Need to wind down, shall call Sam out for supper.
11.15pm: Very thought-provoking supper with Sam, who is extremely bothered with current boyfriend Jeremy. They met online, through some computer game, ended up hooking up with each other. Strange. We digressed to another matter that required greater attention. Sam chanced upon Jeremy in a cafeteria while he was having a joyous banter with a tall, lanky lady. Sam described them having a 'boisterous, mirthful conversation,' and hence she is now panicking that perhaps Jeremy is cheating on her.
I thought she was overthinking this entire situation then she suddenly turned the taps on and it was so attention-grabbing because she was sobbing so loudly. She admitted at point blank range that Jeremy had indeed engaged in a flirtation with that woman, but alleged nothing further went on. "You should cherish being single while it lasts, I miss those days. Talk about grass is always bloody greener on the other end." Wanted to divulge the big secret but I suddenly developed second thoughts. She added on: "Once you've got yourself into this huge-ass mess and have children of your own, you tend to find yourself in an incredibly vulnerable position. That's how I felt when I thought I was pregnant, my life was going to change forever, mid-life crisis some sort. I don't want to be some sort of Harvey Nichols-lady who lunches while the husband earns the money."
Never seen her so despondent as she let her fingers glide over the surface of her glass of wine. After all she had said, I felt mildly uneasy, to think how I've always been depressed, moaning about how so many around me are getting coupled one after another and the pessimism in me occasionally came out and said I would never be that way. And now that that has happened, I somehow failed to see what we are in this for, things suddenly felt mildly precarious. Always thought Sam was so happy-go-lucky and too good for herself, yet here she is miserable and emotionally beaten. Didn't get too wrapped around that, because in an instant Sam suddenly burst into another fit of crying. Had to drag her out and see her home.
12.30am: Wee hours of the morning, hadn't gone home this late in a while. Reached the doorstep, found a whole box of chocolates by the entrance. Picked it up, a card was attached to the wrapping.
'Miss you, xx"
Loved how he scrawled that in his own handwriting, I gleamed. Prepped to go to bed but subsequently realised I hadn't completed Miranda's reports. I'm in for a shelling.
