To the boyfriend.

Dear boyfriend,

I’m not giving you the capital-B anymore because I’ve decided to give the capital status to D. For Disappointment.

Despite the fact that I thronged you with smses from 9 o’clock onwards, whining about my ailing father, my fledging career, your niece’s hand-mouth-foot disease, I received no more than 0 replies from you.

I sincerely thought you were struck by lighting/electrocuted while reading notes off your laptop/drowned in your toilet bowl which was why you didn’t respond.

But your sms at 10.35pm was classic.

“Hais i’m having a lot of things in my mind and i don’t want to hear all that.”

That was when I realised I had made the BIGGEST mistake of my life by apologising the last time I troubled you with work-related meme during your examination period.

You know what? I’m not going to try to be Miss Nice anymore.

My desperate pleas for consolation and empathy was reciprocated with dry indifference. That one person I thought I could share all my worries/burden/troubles with has told me that he was so burnt out by his exams, that he had no time and effort to care about how I felt or the attention I needed.

That one person I left my Mom alone for the weekend for to spend some quality time with has told me that, no. I’m too busy to fucking care about your shit.

Sounds like poetry doesn’t it.

I’m no longer going to care about whether your Dad has 1000 papayas and watermelons and bananas and injure his feet and get his legs amputated on top of my very own paternal problem that involves a 51 year old recalcitrant patient with a serious case of lung infection.

I’ve had family friends who’ve had their legs amputated due to diabetic implications. I’m not cursing you. But the way my life has unfolded these 3 fucking years has thought me that it never rains but it fucking pours.

I’m no longer going to care if your niece never ever grows out her front teeth, even if she ends up looking like a witch, or spoils her eyesight by watching TV in the dark thanks to your parent’s habit, ending up with clumsy-looking spectacles that will scar her childhood forever. I’ve been there. Done that. And too bad if your niece ends up fucked up like me. At least, you know what? I can snigger and say I TOLD YOU SO.

I’m sorry to say that but you’re not the only one on earth who’s taken exams. If your mental capacity proves to make your study life such a struggle, I’m not sure if you can interpret from whatever I’ve written that I’m fucking pissed off, disappointed and distrustful of your tenacity and credibility as a boyfriend/potential life partner.

I’m no longer certain that I can live with an apathetic person like you who’s wound up in his own world like my boss and decides to engage in some very convenient but self-destructive escapism and further your delusional behaviour by simply filtering away things you don’t wish to hear.

I can imagine. The next time some calamity strikes my family for the 2346309237055th time, and you happen to have a major project at work (if we last that long), you would tell me, “Sorry Bitch. I’m packed man. Fucking sort it out yourself.”

After 3 years, I would have thought I could at least be a little more important that exam revision.

Because you’re as important as my parents are to me. And my parents are the most important people in my life. I’m sorry if we didn’t coordinate such equitable priority-setting for these thousand over days we’ve spent being a couple.

Even if we cease to be a couple from this moment on, I am genuinely worried about your inability to multi-task and handle stress. My current job has made me jaded as hell. And is the ultimate boot camp for stress management/strenuous hours/repetitive emotional trauma.

Maybe that’s why to me, all this is chicken feed.

I found out today that my Dad has been given 9 vials of intravenous antibiotic drips for his IV therapy EVERYDAY for the past week. And my pay is delayed for the 3rd month and counting, my Mom weeps by my bedside. My Brother just bought an Xbox.

I pronounce myself pretty sane and strong despite the onslaught of negativity in my life. And for you, who could simply reply with a placid “Aw, poor thing Baby.” or “You have to be strong.”, you not only decided to NOT REPLY ME, you went on further to tell me to NOT GIVE YOU THIS SHIT because you’re having your final exams.

You know what? Why not concentrate on your studies? Let’s call it quits. I know Britney Spears filed for divorce over her mobile phone. I am breaking up with you with a blog entry.

I know, I’ve always been a tech-savvy person.

And to the person who GAVE UP while trying to find out what was wrong with my laptop some time back who happens to ironically be taking his final exams for his INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY degree, let’s just hope your next girlfriend lives on a bed of roses.

And with your next girlfriend, please remember to check your schedule and inform her in advance when her family members are allowed to fall sick, when she’s allowed to have her period/mood swings and when to let fatigue and desperation get the better of her. Please remember to send everyone an email invitation, and reminder 2 days in advance.

Till then, I quit. First you. Then maybe my job.

You’re so ugly and I’m not even referring to your teeth.

~ by janathema on March 12, 2009.