Today was beautiful, because you were in it. I am happy today because I made you happy today. For those few mere hours, I forgot to remember any ordeal at hand, because that's how happy you make me. This is why we've made it through 2.5 years strong.

It hurts so mightily tonight, it feels like my heart is being gorged out. Sleep will rob away the remains of time, to reminisce and grief and breathe my kind of content. And for that, sleep is my greatest enemy, one that does not fear me the way I do it. Every drift into the unconscious wastes more time that could be functioned for telepathic thoughts. Thinking and thoughts, on the other hand, have been my most loyal company. Nostalgia is fueling my recent obsesion for scraps of memories lurking in every inch of this house that now begins to haunt me. I believe this is the first time that I'm existing to regret, about something only time can tell. Above all, this wretched feeling hovers over me like possession. The feint lines between immense love and reluctance blend in together as I clench my unspoken prayers.

A miracle could save me. God, won't you save me?

I'm feeling the desperation to hold and cling onto whatever memory and opportunity to create memories of the time I'm counting down to giving up this beautiful (albeit dysfunctional) home. I've known broken and functional simultaneously all my years growing up here, so deeply that I'm truly afraid of moving on to a healthy and genuinely functional life ahead. This desperation is causing me sorrow, the sorrow irreplaceable with any other home I'll ever have. I revisit every corner of this home as much as I possibly can. I keep reassuring others of the better days ahead and yet I'm semi-uncertain/semi-certain if it stands as true as spoken of. The place doesn't make the love, but it's the love which makes the place. If so, why do so many fall into the grave blunder of not letting go of places.

Twenty six years and I have never felt my dad ever relenting to sorrow until this day. Standing in front of him sends me waves of a sadness never describable - the sadness God gets, the pain and loss of probable goodbye. His ability to experience sadness with regards to being permanently physically distant from us has, for the strangest of unknowing reasons, shown me his depths of sentimentalism toward us. The fear exuding inside-out of him was fragile and vulnerable; something I believed to never live long enough to witness. This fear I saw, it was precious and endearing.

Amidst this (I dare say) very painful and difficult ongoing phase, it has been comforting to know that this is not about to lead to another dark episode. Having Ben's love and support has provided me solace and strength. In strangest ways, I see and feel God and His Godliness in my sweetest soul mate. Never has either God or Ben given up on me and released me to any form of empty abyss, in which I'm largely grateful for. I know Ben tries, and God knows he does too.

Ben, for the times you feel you weren't able to comfort me right, you were wrong. Your love has been the greatest source of motivation and love these 2.5 years. I'm stubborn, although not apparently, but my stubbornness is deep-rooted and sometimes I appear to take you for granted. Nevertheless, thank you for always being here for me - for being happy when I am and for being sad when I am too. I never have to feel the familiar utter loneliness again, now that I have you from now forth. Thank you, for the endless sessions of having to console or reprimand me. More than often, I never thanked you enough. So I send my perpetual thankfulness in writing, so that you will always be able to read and remind yourself of the great things you have brought about in my days, and most importantly, of how happy you make me no matter how sad I may be. I love you always.

The elects of LOVE group has officially been baptised! We have Luke, June, Jasmine and Augustine. Easter Vigiil/Baptism has thus far been the highlight of my year.

Congratulations to all of you. And congratulations, especially to my sweetheart Benjamin Luke and June! I'm indeed overjoyed to be able to witness such a solemn and grand moment of your lives. I love you both very much.

People who think they really know me, really don't. I don't think anyone does. I guess I made it that way.

Mark the date!

News flash!

Ben and June are getting baptized this Saturday! That's clearly so much to celebrate and be joyous for! I still have yet to come up with gifts adequate enough for two baptisms.

God has been amazing, now all that's left to do is to be thankful.

Too many memories, in every page I try to recollect and preserve. Every circumstance and person appear questionable - of their intentions, of their truest worth, and of its hold in all of this collective ounce of me. Entirely opposite of being childlike, every move towards tomorrow marks a risk, and every picture represents a glimmer of subtle joy or tugging pain.

I was taken back along the many years of my childhood when I sprang visits to my grandmother during the past couple of days. For reasons that perhaps I'd never fathom, I yearned to be closer to her. I wanted and needed to make things up, for lost time and foolishness - things that don't justify in the system of choices and consequences, things that would doubt my loyalties in the eyes of many, things that would defy the world I was raised up in. Yet, a heartfelt and honest conversation was all it took to melt away any anger buried in me. I loved her, and I still do today, and will probably always love her, in my very feeble ways.

This was when I thought of my father - the man who betrayed my mother and ruined every member of this could-be wonderful family, the man who shirked every responsibility as a man to his wife, a family man who spent his days as a bachelor. But yet, my father, he loved me, like any other father. He gave me the happiest childhood I could want for, he gave me the bravery I lacked as a child, he passed on his guts and adventuresome outlook in life, he gave me commendable upbringing, and he gave me invaluable lessons. I couldn't have gotten here, this far with deep intakes on life without him. Alike my grandmother, I will always love my father, regardless.

So everyone's wretched. But without wretchedness, forgiveness wouldn't be all so divine, now would it?

It's just days away before we officially moved. I had to get down to packing. Too many clothes, too many books, too many albums, too many furniture, too many unnamed souls to have to leave behind.

I packed. I began with projects from my school days (and found multiple drawings that I lovingly crafted what seemed like so long ago), proceeded to filter out the books hoarded over 19 years, and hand-picked out photographs from every album dating since the 1960s. 26, and it still pained me. It pained me to know for sure that we were once happy together, altogether. It pained me knowing that happiness felt more real comparatively as to present. It pained me having to come to terms that it is going to take harder for happiness to suffice. What pained me most was having to bear the realization of everyone being jaded and separate from one another's lives as much as we are in it. But the pain was not the same this time. It was dull, and seemed distant. This time, it felt dull, like a spirit. The kind whereby you know it has co-existed with the years you wear on your back and has evolved into a spiritual memory, which you will keep only in only memory from here forth. Pictures will always be around and be passed around, yet the life inside of them has somehow ceased to live as evidently. It is nearly the kind of realization of knowing, that you're entirely alone in this world, and you'll always be okay alone.

But this change - it's a good thing, isn't it? And so I ask God everyday.

Many many things await. Some worthy to be exhilarated about, and some not. So the talk about shifting (for a many good years) is actualizing. My fondest and most downright painful memories, they'll all be swept into the little corners of this home I'll be leaving so far behind to recall someday. Tasks await my attention and I shouldn't leave much room for sentimentalism and emotions. This phase has this taken enough of a toll on all of us and the time has arrived for all of us to move on towards our pre-designed fates.

Everything happens for reasons, so they say.

Wow, I haven't even taken any time to re-visit this old friend of a space. Well, not until now at least. It has been a long time coming, and I'm ever-ready to return from the prolonged hiatus. So this is this, this is where the new beginnings happen in words. Here. It has been 3 months since my courage took over and I got down to quitting my job as a music teacher at T4K. It's shying towards a month since I've joined AKLTG (Adam Khoo Learning Technologies Group) as a trainer. The learning curve is indescribably steep this month but I must say I'm catching up well enough. How's everyone out there? I wonder.

I've been spending some time reading archives of old blogs, mine or not, and here I am penning down thoughts of the aftermath of that. I began browsing through writings of 2008, while my heart very much belonged to a girl whom I believed to be the love of my life. In fact, I've been consuming myself with my love for being in love that it clouded my judgment towards many of the people I have thought myself to 'love'.

It has been 3 years since I walked the path of being straight. I won't facade the truth and deny that it wasn't hard turning straight. It was lonely and bittersweet. Friends were scarce because we didn't share that common sexuality preference. I walked into heterosexuality practically naked, figuratively. I grazed my days working away from home just to steer clear of comfort; that familiarity of my old life.

Re-visiting all those years of my life via blog posts gave me a deeper closure in many ways. And believe me, even after years of being a stranger to homosexuality and my ex-girlfriend, I am thoroughly guilty of having done the worst things in my life. One of the largest misdeeds in this 24 years of my life, is to have hurt a girl in such a way that I am still responsible for the inflictions I caused. That, is a baggage I'll always carry under my belt. And if she ever reads this, I hope she knows that I am sorry, so very sorry, and that I seek forgiveness.

Looking at the way things are now, I can safely and confidently proclaim to myself that I am contented, no matter how rough things may get. I am 24, earning my own keep, paying the bills at home, partially supporting my mother, grateful for my job of 2 years, blessed with an old new Godfamily, and sharing a blissful imperfect perfect relationship with a very beautiful man.

When I trace back and reminisce about my past relationships, I am strickened with a heavy heart. This heart fills with regret, guilt, sadness, pain, anger, bittersweetness, angst, and even hate, whenever it is mentioned alongside past relationships. When I think of what I have with Ben right now, what comes to mind is an imperfect perfect relationship. But for what it's worth, I believe I have found the only guy in this world, who'll always run back to me. In my books, it's not in the unforgiveness of walking away, it's the walking back that counts; it's not about the fights, it's the making up; it's not about the winning, it's about returning into each others' arms and feeling grateful to the heavens that there is still fight for love.

I no longer thrive on that darkness which felt so good, so comfortable. Gone are the days when I doubt more than I believe. I have Ben, and he is my pillar. And I hope to be his too. For the rest of our lives. No regrets. And I'm happy with my lot.