no Lies, just Love

"How do you know when it's over?"

"Maybe when you're more in love with the memories than the person standing in front of you."

xx, k 

The places you've come to hate the most

I can't even count the number of unfinished posts that are tucked away on this blog. Lately, I tend to start things and not finish them... commitment issues? Something I never thought I had a problem with, but now I'm really beginning to think so.

I'd also like to start pimpin' out my posts with pretty pictures and all that, but with all these questions about dimensions and blah blah blah uploading thing--it makes me miss the goold ol' Xanga days.. that shit was easy peasy lemon squeezy! What is this???

Anyways.. back on topic with my commitment issues (I always thought Andy was the one with that problem--ha ha..), I think it's for cereal. When it comes down to hobbies I've tried comitting myself to in the past, piano and swimming, it's always been a struggle for me. Piano and I never really got along, I'm not one of those gifted Asian girls and sadly, my mom's constant nagging and fighting with me really made me grow to hate it. Swimming is probably the one thing that not everyone does.. but I'm hella lazy, and even though I was a "good swimmer" when I was younger, the thought of swimming competitively gives me the creeps. I remember always pretending I had my period during swim meets because I fucking hated competition, even as practice during swim club. Fuck that shit... !

For the first week and half that I got back from Toronto, I was all emo and wanting to gtfo of Vancouver. Andy told me it was just me being a downer, Winda says I have post-vacation syndrom.. and that everything will go back to normal within a few weeks. It's been three weeks and the feeling of leaving is getting me all giddy again. I'm not going to say I hate Vancouver, this place is beautiful.. despite the sporadic rain/snow/sunshine/hail/heavy winds/fog. I can't express enough how much I love Stanley Park, especially within the last few weeks. I swear, in one week, I've been there at least four times. Just sitting on the seawall and enjoying the skyline really makes me feel proud for being born and bred here in this gorgeous city. Especially after the Winter Olympics, when Canadian pride was at its peak, I should be loving what Vancouver has to offer.

There's something about meeting new people in this city though, that reminds me of its size and social atmosphere. It reminds of society's demands and norms.. it reminds me how sometimes I feel like living here is a little exhausting, really repetitive, and extremely sheltered and spoiled.

One of my friend's came up with the term "emotionally spoiled", referring to me when we were discussing me moving to Toronto for a year. Everything I want and need is all within arm's reach. I have my friends to love me even when I don't love myself, I have their constant support and flow of constructive criticism in whatever I choose to do--Vancouver is where I have everything. I don't know what it's like to be alone.. at least not completely, utterly alone. I don't know what it's like to depend on nobody but myself. I don't completely understand the meaning of being able to "take care of myself" (as my mom most commonly points out). I don't even know what kind of crazy antics I'm capable of getting myself into with full and irrevocable responsibility. There's so much out there that's unknown to me, completely untouched. I'm starting to feel like my life's just mediocre, which I know is wrong. I'm blessed, blessed beyond words.. especially here in my little nook filled with looove. It's really got me wondering...

is the grass greener on the other side?

When I say otherside, I literally mean eastern Canada. Top of my debate list..

uno vlog

My life

xo.

A friend of mine said

Hardest thing people have to do is learn to let people into their life.

#truth

It's called Self-Love

I wanna. I wanna. I gotta be adored.

So my boyfriend and I recently admitted that we are falling in love with each other.

"We're definitely on our way," as he puts it.

Half of me is exhilerated--shouldn't we all aim to be that brutally honest and openly suspectible to love? I always thought love's Nirvana would be described as a place where nobody is keeping score anymore. A place where you're free to stand ontop of a street bench and tell the whole world how much you love your significant other; where all trust issues simply dissipate.

I would be so happy just having that. For a (premature) period of time, my greatest fear growing up was to one day wake up next to the wrong person. I'd turn next to me and wonder, "Where's the love of my life?"

But of course, nothing in life works out accordingly. We can't all have what we want. The cynic in the back of my head recognizes the boundaries between sheer fantasy and reality. We can't all have the fairytale wedding and the happy marriage. Part of me is in love with the idea of love; its many manifestations and the promise that it is indeed what gives life purpose.

The other part of me is mortified.

"What's your favourite thing about me?"

"Your personality."