Confessions of An Uncertain Mind

I have a confession to make.

I have issues with not being in control.

There. I've said it.

I've always been a person whose always been control. Being in a situation where I relinquish that grip I have on control always unsettles me. Not being able to make sense out of disruption gives me a slight sense of unease. I can be utterly calm where chaos is erupting around me, as long as I am convinced I have control over the situation.

I am afraid of letting go of that internal locus of control I have over myself. Strange, when I am relatively open to trying out new and unexpected situations. But drag me out of my comfort zone, and I resist with bullheaded stubbornness.

I do not fear situations where I do new things. Where I meet new people. Where I travel to new, unknown places. Those are all things where I have relative control of the outcome, where I venture forward in anticipation, but confident anticipation nevertheless.

Enter relationship.

Matters of the heart, where I have no control over. Where no matter what happens, when logic preys heavily on my mind, I am still unable to fling off these feelings I feel. I haven't the slightest idea of the future, of what will happen, and where common sense dictates the fragility of the situation, I chose to plunge heartfirst.

It is not the first time my head and my heart have been conflicted. It's just that for the first time ever, I am following my heart.

Don't get me wrong.

There is no regret about the decision I chose to make. It is amazing and wonderful and is one of the happiest times of my life. I amaze myself with the intensity of my feelings, and at the same time, I am afraid of how passionately I care, and I cannot give in to the flames, because I fear they will consume me and leave me burnt and scarred.

Once again, don't get me wrong.

I am as far from being a cynic. I confess to being a romantic at heart. I love the idea of love. I believe in love at first sight and chemistry and sparks and the idea that love does make the world go round. I love the fact that I am experiencing this first hand, and not through the account of another, for the feeling is incomparable.

I am lucky enough to feel this way about someone. I am constantly surprised that my feelings grow stronger with time, and even more surprised to realise that he returns those feelings. He is utterly unafraid to express the way he feels, yet I cannot bring myself to return those words of affection. He whispers words of love and I can merely smile and turn away, frustrated at my inability to share with him the way I feel.

It is not that I do not feel for him as he feels for me.

On the contrary. Everytime I am near him I am overwhelmed at how comfortable I am in his company. I love the way he makes me laugh and the playful banter we have with each other, of how we can be absolute geeks around each other and how I am never bored in his company. I am falling fast and hard, and I know it is early days yet, and my head cautions me.

I am afraid of commitment. Of a particular commitment to this particular person.

I do not deny our relationship, but I do not volunteer the information. Never once have I ever been able to use the term 'boyfriend', or 'partner', even to those who know of this information.

I am afraid of letting go, even knowing that he will be there to catch me in his arms, but I am still afraid to fall. I am afraid of losing my independence, of losing my rationality and becoming too used with his presence in my life, and then having it snatched away. I am afraid of becoming part of a half instead of a whole individual.

I love him, I realise in those private moments when I am alone with my thoughts, and I smile, but my smile is tinged with uncertainty.

I am afraid of becoming someone different because of him. Knowing that even now, I am holding back because I fear the future. The potential heartbreak that haunts every step of this relationship because of our differences. The questions that hang in the air, unanswered.

We promised to take it one day at a time, but a day will soon come where we will have to evaluate our commitment, and I fear that day. I hold back because I am afraid to let myself love, knowing that in the end, parting will break me. A parting of minds, not of hearts, and it will be acutely painful.

I am afraid of the woman I might become if I give in to those glorious few months of happiness and love and passion. I believe that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, but I still hesitate because I am uncertain of my capability to deal with that possible pain.

I wonder if I am capable of doing that which I crave, but I hold back nevertheless, because rationality still has a part to play in the whole situation.

I am so, so afraid of falling. But I fear it may be too late.

Living Like A Backpacker, Pampered Like A Princess

It couldn't have been a better start to a good holiday.

Driving up from Melbourne to Sydney up the scenic coastal route. It was everything I dreamed of. Girlfriends I could chat for hours with, with similar taste in music, girlfriends I could sing along songs with on the long ride up. We camped in caravans and backpackers, making stops in small, random but beautifully scenic towns we found on the map that took our fancy. We took long walks by the beach and grilled fresh fish for dinner on the barbecue. For those couple of days, we were like wanderers, being taken where the wind would take us, and living the unplanned life for those few blessed days.

Then I got to Canberra. A meeting of old friends, and it is true what they say about the theory of old friends - it does seem like nothing has changed even with the passing of time. Meeting Tengku and Nazli again, we fell so easily into conversation it was almost as if we had seen each other the day before instead of the months that we hadn't seen each other for.

It was during my stay that I realised one thing: The era of the gentleman is not yet dead.

I was incredibly pampered during my whole stay. I didn't have to lift a finger during the whole time I was there. Perhaps it was because I was the guest. Perhaps it was because I was the only female around. Perhaps it was because Tengku was merely being really conscious. In any case, I was entirely spoilt. Spoilt without pretense, when all things were taken care of without any overt fuss.

All meals were prepared. Tengku uncomplainingly brought us to the popular tourist spots, executing his status as the unofficial Canberra tourist guide with much aplomb as Nazli and I wandered around taking in the sights and sounds of Canberra's most popular tourist attractions. We were driven to wherever we needed to go. All my needs were taken care of, from my wakeup calls and the guys' indulgence towards my need to have one hour to get ready before going anywhere. Doors were opened, and to my surprise, at one point Nazli even held open the car door for me. Chivalry isn't dead.

It was a drastic change, from being so independent to being pampered like I was. Just little things, just the way I was treated. With care. It was strange.

And I found myself acting differently. More feminine. More carefree. It was like I had a role to fulfil, and it was almost as if it was that of a token feminine presence. The female who would cajole lighthearted conversation from the two more silent males. To be the one who would tease and nag and play and scold, a cross between a mother, a sister and a lover.

The vast different between gender interaction was never more illustrated for me than it was during that week. And I found myself enjoying myself, indulging my feminity in a way that I rarely did anywhere else. It was surprising that it took being away from other female presences to bring out my feminine side. And I loved every second of it.