Nighttime is the Worst


"It's the way the sky collapses into long strips of blue, red, yellow, white, and grey, all at the same time. It's the way light is reflected and refracted by the clouds. It's the way the horizon moves away at glacial speeds, spotted with cargo ships and long haul tankers, bound for the vastness of the ocean. It's the way the morose wind howls in pain when crashing into jagged rocks and rough hillsides. It's the way the low ebbing tide clings to the sands of harbor, refusing to let go, refusing to forget, coming and going but never truly leaving.

I remember looking out into the same beautiful sunset, and all I could see was a smudged painting of a wonderful memory, best forgotten."

(Whoever He Is, January 7, 2011. Bintulu, Sarawak.)

Top five things I’m gonna miss most about you-

5) Your kindheartedness and thoughtfulness when it comes to celebrating your friends. I have never seen that in anyone. It touches me when I see the extent of your care and willingness. You are selfless and kind and pure, and that is something I doubt I can find in another soul. I doubt I can find someone like you.

4) The way you continually mispronounce certain words in a heated conversation. Sometimes you realize you have pronounced those words oddly, and repeatedly so, and we do tell you whenever you say them again - but you keep on doing it. It does not bother you that it bothers the others so much. To you, it’s normal. To them, it’s amusing. To me, that’s just you being you, and that’s why I’m gonna miss you.

3) The way the wind blows your hair. The way you try to fight it, but to no avail. The way you try to carry on with hair in your eyes. The way you pretend you did not see how helplessly smitten I am at how beautiful you look. The way you smile back.

2) Your great taste in music. If it's any comfort, even if things don't work out, I shall always have you in the kind of music that you love - and I now have learned to love.

1) Your childlike laughter.

I was in my kampung in Kuala Selangor and there was this big pasar malam every Wednesday night, and I was there looking for cendol. Then I thought I heard you, laughing, in the thick and thin of the faceless crowd. I was sure it was you. Your childlike laughter, echoed from a direction that I could not determine. I walked up and down the street, looking for you, frantically scanning the faces of strangers. I knew it was you. It was your laughter. I had heard it for years, hundreds of times.

It slowly dawned on me that it was not possible for you to had been there at all.

I don't know if I will ever get over you. I don't know if there will be any closure.




I wanted to tell you how I feel about you before I went on leave.

That was why I waited for an hour in front of your house in the middle of the night. I sat in my car, in the dark, drenched in cold sweat, constantly reminding myself to keep breathing. Keep breathing.

And breathing was hard that night.

Breathing was hard, because I did not know when you would come home, if ever.

Every time a car passed me by, my heart stopped. The headlights would blind, and I would close my eyes, praying that that was you. Please, God, let that be her. As the car got closer and I could hear the slow rumbling of the engine, my heart rate tripled. My chest felt like exploding. I could hear the veins in my head pulsating.

Every time it was not you, I slumped into the steering wheel like a deflated balloon, and I reminded myself-

Keep breathing. Keep breathing.

I desperately wanted to tell you how I feel about you. How I like you.

I desperately wanted to.




I went to see Nenek after Mak said her blood pressure had been elevated lately, and in the kitchen as we ate a humble spread of lunch that she had cooked, Nenek asked,

"Paijal ni, takde ke yang kau berkenan?"

Sheepishly, I replied, "Ada, Nek, tapi-" I laughed. "Tak sempat nak bagitahu."

Nenek gently touched my 30-year old head with her calloused right hand and said,

"Jangan tunggu lama-lama. Nanti hilang sayangnya."

"Saya ni-" and I smiled, "Pemalu sikit. Tak pandai."

She slapped me on the shoulder as I was playing around with the sardine on my plate.

"Kalau dah suka sama perempuannya tu, cakap lah. Bagitahu dia."

"Ya, Nek. Nanti saya balik saya terus bagitahu dia. Janji, Nek."

Nenek sighed and pushed the rice bowl towards me. "Kalah anak dara..."




Oddly, I didn’t feel crushed.

I just felt slightly embarrassed.

My telling you how I felt about you was more about me than it was about you. But that did not mean that your reply was not important. Your reply was important. Your reply meant everything. But I had prepared long and in detail for this, and for your reply, so I was ready to handle the worst of your reactions.

Your reply was important.

So then when you said, No, let’s just be friends - I didn’t feel crushed. I didn’t feel rejected.

I just felt oddly embarrassed.

You were gracious and kind, and you helped made the situation less awkward than it should have been. So much so that I walked out of that coffee shop that afternoon feeling absolutely relieved. I was smiling. I felt light. I felt- I felt- I felt accomplished (?)

I even said Thank You and waved See You Later cheerily.




All my short stories were about you.

Even the ones that were not about you in particular.

They were all written with you in mind. You were Zahra. The Travel Channel girl. The Tell Your Mom girl. The H1N1 Love girl. The Talk About Her Exes girl.

You were the heroine of my stories.

You were my heroine.




Mak, she said No.

And then there was an hour long silence before Mak replied.

Along, you have to be strong. Mak doakan yang terbaik untuk semua anak-anak Mak. Allah Maha Adil, dan Dia Maha Mengetahui. Apabila Dia menutup satu pintu rezeki, akan dibuka-Nya satu pintu rezeki yang lain. You have to be strong, and you have to keep on trying. You have my prayers. Sayang, Mak.

I spent the entire night scrubbing the toilet floor. After I was done with the toilet, I moved to the kitchen. Then I vacuumed my room, my housemate’s room, and the living room. Then I moved all the furniture aside, rolled up the carpet, and mopped the floor. I reached for the 8-step ladder and wiped clean the fan blades. Then I emptied the freezer of foodstuff that was more than two months old. Then I re-arranged the foodstuff accordingly. Milk and juices on top, cookies and biscuits and leftovers in the middle, fruits and veggies at the bottom. All hot sauces on one side, and all savory spices on one side. Everything else that did not fit into any of these categories went into the garbage bin. Then I washed the cabinet top and the sink. I re-arranged all the spoons and forks and pots and pans, and put away the knives safely at one corner. I gathered all the cups and plastic tumblers and laid them down to dry, next to the stove. I cleaned the bread crumbs in the toaster. I removed the trapped lint in the washing machine. I switched off the freezer because the ice was getting thick.

I wanted to open up and check how things are underneath the sink, but I was afraid I might see baby rats and poisonous lizards and snake skins and roaches the size of cats and I could not get immediate help if anything should happen.

I was sweeping leaves in the driveway at three in the morning when I decided it was okay to go to bed.

And so I did, but I only slept after it was already close to half past four.

I have never felt so alone in my life.




One of the first things that I did was I deleted all of your emails, all of your text messages, and I gathered up everything that you ever gave me and put them in a box, and I put that box in a dusty corner somewhere - where I know I will not go stumbling into unintentionally, unless I was vacuuming or mopping or hunting down big spiders.

But before that, I had to sort through them, read them, and re-live the past one and a half years. I had to painfully walk down the memory lane. I had to decide which were okay to be deleted and which were okay to be kept. I had to first define what is 'okay'.

Is it okay for emails where there are mutual friends in the discussions? Is it okay if the discussions are impersonal and generic? Is it okay for funny forwarded emails?

I read all of my replies to you, those that were only sent to you, for you. And I could not believe how I sounded. I sounded like I was twelve.

Ya Allah, aku sorang je yang perasan rupanya. Ya Allah-

I ended up deleting everything that had your name on it.




I run because it’s a painful, lonely sport.

And I choose to run in the morning because I have no other choice. I decided that I would rather nurse a sore, aching body during the day when I am working and in the company of others-

Than at night when I am alone and in bed and at the mercy of my thoughts, and all I could think of is you. Because at nighttime, the pain of being alone is the worst.

By six, I would be out in the cold, in the dark, and with my running shoes on.




San Fran, Jan 22, 2011.

Princess,
I like you.

(Pause. Make eye contact, and then break off gently.)

In fact, the word ‘like’ doesn’t even describe how I feel about you.

(Pause.)

I’m crazy about you.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I keep having dreams about you, day and night.

I can’t go to sleep without thinking about you. And later when I wake up, all I could think of is you.

I sing songs for you, I write stories about you, I see you on TV and in films.

I’m crazy about you.

(Pause)

Initially, I wanted to use the word ‘love’, but-

(Sigh, and then a small smile) I don’t want to scare you so soon.

I think the word ‘love’ is sacred, and I don’t think I should use it yet. Not like this, not yet.

But-

That is how I feel about you.

(Pause. Make eye contact.)

I really, really like you. I do.

(Pause. Break off gently.)

I didn’t suddenly wake up this morning and decide to feel this way about you.

Remember about one and a half years ago, you came to me for advice?

You were trembling and desperate, and you were in need of advice. You were in a horrible mess and you needed someone to talk to, to give you words of advice, to help calm you down.

Do you remember?

(Not a question. Don’t stop.)

I don’t remember what I said to you, but I do remember it wasn’t such good advice.

I’m sorry. I was totally unprepared then. I still feel bad about that. I hope you understand.

(Pause.)

That was when I started noticing you.

(Pause.)

I’ve known you for years. We were friends of friends, and we were already close because of that. But I didn’t actually know you personally. I didn’t know you well enough, close enough, to give you good advice.

So, after that I promised myself that I would get to know you better. I want to know more about you. Not because we were friends, but because of you. You. I want to know more about you.

So, every opportunity that I had, every chance meeting, every time we bumped into each other, every time we were doing things together, I cherished them. I looked forward to them. I looked forward to seeing you, talking to you, listening to you, to just be with you, in your company, listening to your stories, looking at you, knowing you.

They became the highlight of my day.

(Pause.)

Every time I look at you, I ask myself – What is she like? How does she feel? What is her favorite color? Is she a good best friend? Is she a good big sister? What makes her laugh?

Slowly but surely, I started falling in love with you. I didn’t know I was falling in love until later when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Until it came to a point when it became, (pause) clear.

(Pause.)

But one thing still bothers me to this day.

(Eye contact.) I don’t remember how we first met.

Did I say hi? Did you say hi? Were we properly introduced? Or did we just hang out together awkwardly in a group and later things got better without any one of us realizing?

Do you remember?

(This is a question. Let her answer. She hasn’t talked for close to two minutes. Look at her as she answers it.)

(Let an awkward pause settle in, before you proceed.)

I guess the whole point of this meeting, other than telling you how I feel about you, is to correct how things had started between us. So-

(Lean forward. Make eye contact, and hold it. Smile.)

Hi.

My name is Faizal. (If she doesn’t laugh or smile at this line, you’re screwed. Because this is the hook.)

I don’t know you well enough yet, but I think you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and there is something very special and very attractive about you.

I would like to get to know you better, and I hope that we could be more than friends.

What do you say?




It’s been almost two months since, but I still remember every single word from that prepared speech. Every single pause. Every single tonal nuance. Every single point of eye contact where I needed to look at you and say what I needed to say to you to make you believe me.

I could, at any point now, close my eyes, and the words would just roll off from the tip of my tongue.

I practiced it everywhere I could, anytime I could. I would be filling up the car at the gas station, or waiting in line at the supermarket, and I would quietly go-

Princess, I like you. In fact, the word 'like' doesn't even-

I really was crazy about you.

Do you believe me if I say I have had that speech since before my trip to Europe?

The difference is, in the Europe version, I would have had a ring in my pocket, and I would have been on my knees, holding your hands, and in the background would be the melting snowy caps of the gorgeous Alps.

(Laughs.)

I know, I know. You have to understand – I just had to give it a try.

Looking back, I’m glad you said you could not come with me to Europe.




Switzerland, June 9, 2010.

Woke up as early as 4. Did some minor laundry.

As I'm writing this, I am sitting on the hanging balcony of a 60-year old log cabin, looking out into a beautiful Alps morning across the charming town of Lauterbrunnen.

It's about 14 to 16 degrees, and it feels great.

Amazing view.

Last night, I dreamed that somebody loved me. I proposed to her on the steps of the Alps. But I could not hear her answer. I could only recall her face, and her smile.

This place is magical.




Her favorite color is purple-

Even though she quickly admitted that she owns nothing in that color.

I don’t know if she told me this because she wanted me to know, or because I had just confessed to her.

She seemed distressed, as if she were cornered into this situation and could not get herself out because she feared of being impolite.




When I asked, 'Don't you worry it might be too late?' - I did not mean your age.

I meant as in, When you realize who you want to be with is no longer available.

But then you immediately snapped, and spoke with conviction about how our society sees this in the wrong light. That a woman should not be goaded into committing herself into an arrangement that she is not yet ready for, under the pretense of a blessed happiness. That a woman is not simply the sum of her relationship status and her family and her age and her ability to make cute babies and her behavior in public places.

As you raised your voice, unknowingly I fell in love with you even more. I did.

Oh, that passion!




I admit that I don’t love her because of God. I know I should, but I don’t.

I love her for who she is.

My family would think that that’s blasphemous.

I don’t care.

I’m willing and I’m able, and I’m clear on what I’m committing myself into.

God knows I’m not lying.

God knows.




I lost three kilos and a few inches off my waist since I started running in the morning.

I tell other people it’s about exercising when the blood sugar level is at its lowest.

In truth, I run because I want to get over her.

I lost three kilos since. So I think it’s working.




San Fran, Jan 25, 2011.

Princess,
First of all, thank you for being gracious. And thank you for being kind.

I don't know whether it's a good idea to say to you these, but I'd rather say them than not say them at all.

I'm going to be honest and say, It has not been easy.

I can't just flick-off a switch and all the feelings go away.

This is not some high school crush because you were kind to me and had remembered my birthday. No.

I want to tell you that you did not lead me on.

It's the person in you, not your fond gestures, that I love.

I have known you for one and a half years, and I liked you so dearly even before we were close.

During those times, I admit that I had moments when I was afraid and I had doubts. I constantly denied how I felt.

Because I didn't want to risk our friendship, which was improving. I kept letting silly things, like how you don't like Star Wars or how we have different taste and personality, interfere with how I felt about you.

Nonetheless, I respect your decision and I thank you for being sincere.

I understood how unexpected it was, and I praise how you handled it.

I didn't do a very good job, especially at the start.

I'm sorry. It was one and a half years of deep emotions coming up all at once.

I hope that everything I have said that day made across to you clearly.

I was worried I would choke or wrongly say them and made things worse.

I agree with you on jodoh, that Allah yang mengatur untuk kita, dan kita redha dengan ketentuan-Nya. Jodoh is a rezeki. One that He gives and one that He takes.

I understood that your priorities now are someplace else. That you want to find happiness in the things that you do. I hope that you do find them and that you find them well. You have my prayers.

I understood now why I like you. You are everything that I am not. You offer a glimpse of who I might have been - a life that is not like mine. That is why I feel good to be around you, or to be with you.

It's the way you make me feel complete.

I was a bit disappointed that you said you don't feel anything. How could you have felt anything if you were still looking at me through the eyes of a friend? Jodoh could be right in front of you, looking straight at you, and you wouldn't have known it because you felt nothing. And you did not even let in on the thought that it could be possible. That it could be possible for love to come from someone you already know, someone who cares.

My point is- You've closed the door to your heart on me. But I ask that you don't lock it and throw away the key.

None of us know where things could be in the next year, or five, or more. Like you said, jodoh works in mysterious ways. While I believe we should pray to Allah for the best, I strongly believe we should try our best first before we bertawakkal.

I was not asking you to marry me.

I am just asking for you to accept that you are lovable, and that you can be loved, and give love. You may find it hard to accept that love can come from a friend. But this is what's happening. It is possible for a friend to care for you so dearly. It is possible for your jodoh to come from someone you already know.

Kalau kita betul ditakdirkan takde jodoh, I hope this experience has made us better persons. And I hope it will make us better friends. I wish so that we could still meet once in a while in the future, and bring our kids along, and have a picnic, and talk about which school is best for our kids.

Kalau kita ada jodoh, maybe the time is not now. Hanya Allah yang tahu.

I'm sorry I have been very quiet since. I promised myself I would give me a few days of calm to think things over.

Above all else, I sincerely hope for things between us to be on good terms.

See you around, okay?




The week immediately following that, my mind was elsewhere. My body was in the office, in the meeting rooms, at site, and you could hear me speaking over the phones, talking to my colleagues, stating the obvious, discussing the routine–

But my mind was elsewhere.

I put on the hard helmet and safety gear, and I would take long walks into the Process Module, where the worst hazards are. I looked for the tallest structure to climb, the hottest, most pressurized pipelines to cross, the most aging platform grating I could traverse over. The leakiest, the noisiest, the most vibrating-

I went looking for some kind of peace.

There is this odd sense of calm when you can hold your bare palm on the surface of a vessel that you know is sixty times the pressure of the air you breathe, the pulse of a pipeline that you know contains horrible gases that could kill you instantly. There is this comforting thought that the only thing that protects you is only eight millimeters of steel.

I wanted to be able to go and face my worst fears, and to feel I would still be okay.

I wanted to be able to say, I told her how I felt, I was hurt, but I'm doing fine now.

I went looking for that kind of peace.

As I leaned against the handrail, high above the hard-solid ground, looking out into a landscape of twisted metal pipes, scalding steam, and bright burning fires, I could not help but ask - How did you end up like this, Faizal?

How did you end up like this?




I remember asking her, 'When was the last time your flirt muscles twitched?'

She said, 'Oh, it was such a long time ago, I don't think they can flex well anymore.'

Little did she know I was twitching mine.

She was born clueless. I did not know that.




My mistake was, I kept those feelings for too long.

I was afraid. I was cowardly and selfish. I feared rejection. I did not want to lose what I had already gained - her trust. If I were in her place, and the friend I trusted the most ended up confessing that he kept all those feelings for me all these while, I would have felt betrayed.

I would have felt cheated.

Because all those times he had an agenda, an ulterior motive.

I would have questioned all of his past gestures, all the things he ever said to me, all the things he ever gave me. I would have doubted whether he was even sincere in all of his actions.

If I were her, I would have felt that way.

And that kept me from telling her how I truly feel about her. That fear of my betraying her trust.

Until one day, those suppressed feelings came up like a torrent of agony - and there was nothing I could do other than to set them free. So, I told her the truth, and I set myself free.

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.




I drove to Miri to Luak Bay Esplanade to try to get away from things. It was already late when I decided I could not stay over the weekend alone in the house. By the time I arrived, it was already close to sunset, and the place was not so crowded. I took out the kite I bought in last year's Festival from the back of my car, and I tried to launch it into the sky alone by the beach.

The kite fell sharply from the sky and broke its spine and collapsed.

On the long drive home, I decided that I needed to talk to someone.




Her phone rang for a short while and then she quickly picked it up.

"Hey, Cupcake."

"Hey- What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I was-"

"I was surprised, y'know. Last we spoke was months ago."

"I know, I just-"

(Silence.)

"You sounded like you were in a mess. You couldn't even tell me- You couldn't even finish your sentence. What's wrong?"

"I- I'm in a big mess-"

"You called me up at 11 on a work day and you sounded like you couldn't even breathe."

"I'm sorry I scared you-"

"Tell me. What happened?"

(Silence.)

"Where were you when you called me this morning?"

"I was in, uhm, one of the meeting rooms in the office. It was empty, so I just-"

"So you were at work?"

"Yeah, I was at work. But I couldn't really do anything, so-"

"Where are you now?"

"I, uhm-" (Looked around) "-by the beach, at Tanjung Batu. There's this place that I like to go."

"Is that why I'm hearing the sound of waves crashing and the wind?"

"Yeah, it's pretty windy- Can you hear me okay?"

"I can hear you fine. But you're not telling me what's going on-"

"I, uhm-" (Exhaled loudly)

"Faizal, are you crying?"

"No, I'm- I just, uhm, I'm really sorry I called you like that this morning. I-"

"It's okay. But you gotta tell me what's wrong."

(Silence.)

"Faizal, what's wrong?"

(Sobbing.)

"Faizal-"

(Silence.)

"Cupcake-"

"What is it-"

"I, uhm, I told a girl I like her."

"Okay, then what did she-"

(Exhaled loudly.) "I told a girl I like her, Cupcake-" (Trembling.)

"Yeah, okay, but what did-"

(Exhaled.) "I just told her this weekend-"

"Yeah-"

(Sighed and calmed down a bit.) "I have been secretly in love with a girl that I know, and I told her how I felt-"

"Okay-"

"-And she said No, let's just be friends-" (Snorted and then suddenly laughed.)

"She- Why are you laughing?!"

(Continued laughing.) "Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"What's going on?"

"No, it's just-" (Laughed.) "It sounded really stupid when I say it!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Oh my." (Laughed a little.) "It just sounded different when I say it-"

"What do you mean?"

"No, it's just- When I say it in my head, it sounded really really sad. But then when I say it to you over the phone, and I hear myself saying it- I dunno. It just sounded really stupid lah pulak."

"Like how?"

"Like I fell off a bike and hurt my knees and now I'm complaining-"

"You're joking, right?"

"No-"

"You don't cry like a girl if you fall off a bike. You're 30 years old-"

"Yeah, I know. But there is this girl-"

"Oh, she said No to you, is it? Itu je ke... Alaaaa, you poor thing."

(Laughed) "I know, I know-"

"Did you really like her?"

"I did. I do. I even wrote down how I want to say it-"

"You know what- Knowing you, I'm not surprised that you wrote it down."

"I did- I mean- I want to do it right, y'know?"

"And then you practiced it, kan?"

"Yeah!"

"See? I know you lah-"

(Sighed gently.) "I know..."

"You see? It's not that bad now, isn't it?"

"Yeah-"

"I guess you only needed to talk to someone about it, itu je kan-"

"Yeah. The story of my life-"

"I bet you're smiling now, kan?"

"I am, I am-" (Exhaled.) "I feel a bit better now, yeah. Thank you."

"So..."

"Yeah... Hey- I forgot- Are you still in Bangkok?"

"No, I'm already back. That project is done with."

"Oh, then, I guess it's okay if I drop by KL and see you-?"

"Yeah, sure."

"'Coz, I'll be in KL in a few days and I would like to see you-"

"Oh, ye ke. Let me pick you up then. And then we can talk some more. Will you be coming alone?"

"Yeah. I'll be coming alone."




I used to have dreams about her almost every other night.

Even after she said No, I continued to have those dreams.

I couldn't get more than three hours of sleep every night. All those nighttime pains, all those haunting thoughts. I buried myself in mountains of books. I went running as much as I could.

This lasted for about three long, agonizing weeks.

Then one day the dreams stopped and the nighttime pains became tolerable.

A few days after that, I woke up and I felt just fine.

I don't know what happened, but I started waking up feeling it doesn't hurt as much anymore.




At six in the morning, Bintulu sky looks like the kind of dark gray that says it's going to rain.

It's not gonna rain. That is just how it looks like just before the Sun breaks its cover. I know.

I don't carry anything with me when I go for my early morning run. I leave everything behind.

I fast-walk from my house to the junction where the churches are, as warm-up, and then I start my run at an easy pace along the beachside road in Tanjung Kidurong. Soonest that I arrive on the junction entering the new road towards Tanjung Batu, I sprint down half a kilo.

Usually there is only the garbage lady, picking up broken beer bottles, that early in the morning. Once in a while, there is this off-duty guy who comes back from fishing, who always smells like prawn soaked in turd. There are other joggers, too, but they are there for the sunrise event, and not so much for the physical exercise. They walk in the middle of the path, holding hands if husband and wife, they move their arms and shoulders, and that is it.

I run for the first half kilometer, stop and walk and catch my breath, and then I run down a full kilometer until I see fireflies in my eyes. That is how I know I have reached the rate that my heart needs to beat to get to where I target my fitness level. Then I stop running and slowwalk all the way to the Taman Temasya roundabout, and I turn back for another half kilo.

Since I started running, I have learned to love sunrises.

I have learned to love the pain that comes from running.

I have learned to love the sounds of my breathing hard.

I have learned to love the still and quietness of the morning, when the Sun is still snoozing.

I have learned to make peace with what has happened, and I am ready to let go and accept the experience as it is. I do not regret having felt what I felt about her. Those feelings were genuine, and I was sincere. I was selfless. I do care about her. I did love her. I do love her, and I will always love her. But my love for her tomorrow may not be the same as my love for her today. Just as my love for her today is no longer the same passionate love as my love for her yesterday or the day I fell in love with her.

I really do wish for her happiness, even if it does not come from being with me. I do.

As I reach the halfway point, I can see the path where the final one kilometer goes. I can see where I need to be careful, and I can see where I need to slow down and appreciate the view.

The early morning air is light and sweet. I feel I can breathe easy now. Subhanallah.

Author's Notes – (Thank you for putting me back together again.)

This was actually written twice.

First time, between Jan 28 until probably Feb 15. It was not written in order, just here and there, in sections. Then I deleted them, all of them, and I chose to forget.

Second time - About two weeks ago, the story, in bits and pieces, started coming back to me from memory. So for example, I was stuck at a traffic light and then-

I admit that I don't love her because of God-

And just like that, I started writing them down one by one. All from memory. I am amazed I could still recall all of them.

The sections are not put down in sequence here. So the timeline is jumbled up. The whole idea is to reflect the "fractured" state of mind of the narrator, how he keeps remembering the bits and pieces of what had happened and tries to forget about them.

I did not edit them as much as I would love to. I wrote them once, and then I locked them. That's it. Except for the very last part, the ending. That was written last and it was written with a lot of thought and agony and purpose and re-writing.

There's a scene from my favorite book, High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, that I want to put in (Chapter 34), but I am afraid of publishing it without his consent.

The photo is titled 'Working By the Sea, By the Beautiful Sea' and is taken from Nurhakimah's tweet dated Feb 12, 2011. It's a picture of a gorgeous Bintulu sky.

My favorite quote, 'If you can't let it go, then it's not worth having', applies.

This is a tribute to those who had gone through, and survived, the same experience.