Saturday, February 17, 2018

8 weeks.

UPDATE: 

1. As of 4th August 2017, I have become Mrs. Zharif Badrul. The feeling of marrying your best friend and your lover all wrapped into one is probably the most magical thing ever. The moment we locked eyes on each other after the 'akad nikah'; we knew it was gonna be one amazing journey for us.

2. After 5 months of marriage; WE'RE PREGNANT! *fireworks* To be honest, I didn't think I would be pregnant so early in our marriage; but then when you think about it I've known this man for about 10 years and I'm pretty sure I know all his amazingly weird quirks; so why the wait, huh?


So here I am, back on this blog as an expecting mother --i'm 8 weeks pregnant by the way. I still have a longgggg way to go. I was re-reading my previous posts before I decided to update this post and I thought to myself, 'Wow. How time has flown by so damn fast."

How am I feeling being pregnant? Tired. Bloated. And just constantly hungry and sleepy. Haha but no--I don't know how to describe it but it is such an amazing feeling waking up every morning and putting your hands on your belly and imagining how you're about to carry another human being for the next 7 months. It is just such an indescribable feeling. I am constantly checking the app I downloaded for my pregnancy tracker to see how big my baby is now, how my body is changing, how my baby is developing....so to sum it up, I'm pretty obsessed with this baby right now and it's not even born yet! Oh god, I'm probably gonna spoil him/her so bad....

Though, if there was ONE thing I would love to have right now would definitely be...the presence of my late mama. Ma, how I wish you were here so I could just call you up to ask you if these cramps I'm getting time to time is normal. How I wish I had you to share your labor room experiences with me. How I wish to share my excitement and also to tell you how scared I am to undergo this life changing moment. I lost you at 16...at such a young age and I just wished you were here. 

But....at least I have Papa. The closest thing I have to you, Ma.

Count your blessings, Faten. 

For 6/6.

 It was a sunny day; not too hot but not too cold. Just the perfect kind of evening to end what seemed like a dreadful day after countless hours of being trapped in the laboratory.

"Its good to see the world for its beauty again," I whispered in my heart as the wind blowed through my hair as if complying my every thought. It was time to go home and the least of my worries that day was deciding whether to cook for dinner or take something to-go.

*Ping* *Ping*

 My phone vibrated and I could see that a friend had texted me to ask if I was up for Sushi. Below the notifications of the text I could see that someone had liked a post on my Instagram. The name looked so familiar, tugging on my heart as if they once echoed through my dreams. Once I realized who it was, my heart practically jolted.

 "Is it really him? How did he find me? We haven't spoken in a year; does he even still remember me?" were among the questions that arose into my mind.

 I distinctly still remembered the last time I talked to him. It was through a Facebook message. We had been talking; even though both had gone separate ways with separate people. I ended it, despite it almost tearing my heart apart. It didn't seem right at the time. I was in love with this person, but I was ultimately in a relationship with another. It was just not fair to either of  them. And since then, we hadn't spoken. Saying our goodbyes through the words of Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You. The song was practically a taboo after that. I could not listen to it; without having a thought of him in my mind.

 I had been single for 8 months at the time he suddenly came back into my life. I had finally let go of the heartache and loss; and I was scared. Scared that the presence of the past would shatter my every belief I had so strongly structured along the 8 months of recovery.

 The first night we spoke, it felt like talking to a lost friend. He had always been someone I found easy to talk to. We would always tease each other, making jokes and making each other laugh unconditionally. It was the kind of connection not many could experience. So when we decided to call through Skype one night, it seemed normal that I felt like I was back in 2009. We teased and even flirted a bit with each other without us even realizing it. We had a spark. Not the type you get through a 'love at first sight'; but through building trust and respect. The type of spark you only get in..best friends. But we both knew, our feelings were more than what it portrayed to be.

 Suddenly, I felt like the world wasn't turning its back on me anymore. God had finally given back my friend which I had lost upon deciding the matters of the heart. But then one night, he suddenly confides into me that he still had feelings for me; that his love never waned.

 Then there I was again. Back to one of the nights in my 8 month road to recovery where I had solemnly vowed to myself that not again would I ever let anyone come close to my heart again. No one was to enter. Not anymore.

 And so I pushed him. I pushed him away. Despite knowing that it would mean I would be losing him again after finally getting him back; I pushed him away. So he couldn't hurt me. So he wouldn't see the ugly pieces of my heart that had been destroyed once by the person who swore to protect me. And I hid. Behind that wall I had built so high. I took comfort in it, and hid. To only come back when I saw that the coast was clear. That he had backed down and retreated from his actions.

 And he did. Or so I thought. Until I received a letter in the mail with a stamp from Malaysia.

 "I think I've seen this handwriting somewhere," I thought as I tore open the envelope to find a one page A4 paper with so many words on it as if the words were spilling out from the paper.

"It's a love letter," was my first thought.

 Upon reading, I couldn't resist the urge to tear up. It was a letter from him; telling me how he would like to take care of me until I had found my way again. I mean, who does that? Give up your heart for the happiness of another's. Who does that?

 He did. Because the letter came to me at a time when my heart was starting to shake. It gave more sense to keep him close even though I still had my heart guarded. And so I agreed. Not knowing what the ending would be like.

Monday, November 3, 2014

How is it possible that people can change their minds, so easily?

Like in one minute you believe in A and then suddenly you wake up one day and you want B.

Is it because slowly A is starting to feel too real and so your defense mechanism kicks in and the most logical thing to do is to kick A to the curb and come up with something such as; B?

But I just don't get it. When you decide to suddenly change your mind, do you ever wonder and stop to think to as how it would affect the other party? How do you even build up the courage to do that?

Really. This is a legitimate question I am asking because it seems like people do and say things which always contradict with their true feelings.

I beg you. Just don't say it if you don't mean it.

But then again, from the words of Murakami,

"My point is this: in this whole wide world the only person you can depend on is you."

Monday, October 13, 2014

"Bakat dikurnia jangan disalah guna, Jangan kufur nikmat yang diberi percuma,Guna kelebihan untuk hikmah bersama."  


 Last weekend was by far one of the most hectic yet amazing weekend I have had since I can remember. 

1) I met up with the bride-to-be Nurul and her fiance for a quick lunch and it was just nice to get together and talk about life, work, and of course her wedding preparations. Because come on, I am a girl who still gets giddy inside when I hear about wedding preparations. With all the flowers, dresses, halls, I got nervous inside like as if I was the one getting married! Hah! I still can't believe that this person I've known since I was 14, who ultimately failed together at trying to skateboard is getting married in 4 months. Wow, time just needs to like, chill out and let me finish my cup of tea.

2) I went to Buku Jalanan's birthday bash at Shah Alam with Zharif after meeting up with Nurul. It was a laid back non-fancy type of festival which was just perfect in its own way. With a couple of stages set up for forums and discussions, live performances, it was nice to see everyone gathered around just for the music and some input. The theme of one of the forums was "Dari P. Ramlee ke Rindu Awak 200%" which when I saw its title on one of the posters actually really caught my eye. Although I didn't have the whole chance of listening to the whole forum, it definitely did make me wonder on how drastically our film industry has changed from being something so classy to something so...unrecognizable. 

3) We ended the night at the batting cage in One Utama with one of Zharif's friends who had made it clear that he needed to clear off all the things he had on his bucket list before he graduated which meant me twisting my every muscle trying to swing the bat and actually hitting the ball. I'm not even talking about hitting the baseball so that it had an actual trajectory; but like hitting it so that it'd bounce off and nearly bruise me type of hitting. But I had a really good time because it was so nice to actually let go and be myself in front of the guys. Then again, when have I not ever been my weird old self when I'm with Zharif? So, yeah.

4) I spent the Sunday at Dapur Jalanan. This was probably the highlight of my week in total. I had heard of Dapur Jalanan-which is basically a soup kitchen, when I was still studying in Japan but since then had never actually participated in anything. Luckily, Zharif is very much active in Dapur Jalanan so it was just the perfect opportunity for me to actually experience it myself. And let me just say, you just have to be there to actually understand the whole experience. Unfortunately for me, it was raining cats and dogs when Zharif and I reached Pasar Seni's LRT station and we got automatically soaked from all the rain and wind that came at us. I was practically freezing underneath my wet clothes which got me thinking; I wonder how the homeless people deal with it. They obviously don't have a place to call home to, so I wonder where they shelter at. Or if they even shelter at all, because as we all know, these people like to walk and scatter around. The thought of that immediately erased me of my worry about the rain and how cold I was. I was just lucky enough to actually have clothes on to keep me warm.
 So by the time we started giving out food, it was already 6 pm because the food came late due to heavy rain and traffic. Mind you, it was still drizzling while we were giving out food. We were lucky enough to actually find a spot to put all the food despite raindrops dropping into some of our bubur kacang and air laici
 While I was there, there was this one lady that caught my attention. She had been waiting behind Zharif and I while we were waiting for the food to arrive. She had a little boy with her. And she sat him down as he opened up one of his new toys which I peeked to see was a character figurine thingy from The Hobbit. I honestly thought at first that she was just another volunteer probably just wanting to help around. But later did I discover, while I was giving out food, she strolled by and said thank you with her two hands full of nasi, roti canai, and sandwiches while her kid followed beside her. Then it hit me. She and this kid, she wasn't waiting for the food to arrive so that we could provide for them; she was one of them who needed the providing. So the strings on my heart tugged. I wonder what happened. Why was she there. Did she really have no place to go to? Or maybe her husband left her and she had no financial aid because we all know how common these type of stories are. But nonetheless, where was her family? I still can't stop thinking about it. I wish I had the time to ask her where she was from, how old her little boy was, because he looked pretty much Mikhail's age. I got home that night thinking and wishing if I could really just do more, you know? There must be something more I could do than just give out food. If it was possible, I wanted to follow them to where they were staying just to look at the state of what they call 'home'...
 We see so many homeless people on the streets sometimes and we're scared of them because their mainly old men with cut out shorts and t-shirts but its when you join these kind of activities you realize, that there's actually more to that. Just because they dress different doesn't make them less of a human than we are. Zharif even told me that there's actually a whole family that is homeless. A whole family. Imagine that. Imagine what a loaf of bread to the whole family could do. So many of us believe that charity is so associated to money. I don't deny that charity funds are a great way to help, but that can never, ever, be equal to the feeling you get from giving something such as food directly to someone and actually looking them in the eyes when they truly say, 'Thank you.'

 All I can say is, my one day in the rain with the homeless people has taught me more about life than any book/forum/talk has.