Springtime in Winter

Last night, i stood at the bus stop with rain falling all around me. The light emanating from the street lamps and the cold wind that blew made me think of romance. A man and a woman, boat in coats and scarves and with intertwined fingers walk past me.
I love coats and scarves and boots.
I also love sitting down to some warm soup and crusty bread at the end of a long day.
I love snuggling under the duvet covers, cocooned in my own warm little world, warming my fingers around a mug of hot chocolate with two marshmallows sitting pretty on top.
I also love having long, hot, sweet-smelling showers- the feel of hot water beating down my back as i plan.
I love listening to my favourite rainy day songs as i sit at my desk.
I also love having a bowl of hot porridge with bananas, honey and cinnamon for breakfast.
I love having my coffee sit next to me as i read my bible.
I also love how God is making me re-evaluate everything before i meet the boy i'm to marry.

I love how winter is breathing new life into me.

Your grace covers all

Grace
it's a name for a girl. it's also a thought that changed the world. and when she walks on the street, you can hear the strings. Grace finds goodness in everything.

Grace
she carries a world on her hips. no champagne flute for her lips. no twirls or skips between her fingertips.

she carries a pearl in perfect condition. what once was hurt, what once was friction, what left a mark no longer stings.

because
grace makes beauty out of ugly things.
grace finds beauty in everything.
grace finds goodness in everything.

[Lyrics taken from Grace by U2]

Made from love

I don't think a woman ever gets tired of hearing that she's beautiful. I sure don't. I hear it so often here that it more than makes up for all those years of thinking i was, to put it bluntly, ugly. (Ugly is such an ugly word, don't you think? Phonetically speaking, it's just harsh.) And the best part is that when my lovelies here tell me i'm beautiful, it's more than just the physicalities they're refering to. It's everything.

And to know this, to know this, is like being enveloped in a big, warm hug.
Or sitting in the sand, on a beach, eating ice-cream on a cone.
It's just good, you know?

We can fall apart together

This is where i sit down to read a good book with a cuppa and some cookies beside me.
This is where i lay in bed and watch TV, trying not to fall asleep, but failing.
This is where i do my research and all that serious, academic stuff.
This is where i listen to my music, with the lights off.
This is where i read my emails and miss my friends.
This is where i laugh at the sillies.
This is where i think about love.
This is where i cry over you.
This is where i pray.
This is where i am.
This is where i be.
This is my room.

Welcome to the middle ground

I cannot wait to go back home (and i use this word, home, with careful consideration) at the end of the year during my semester break. I don't know of any place i'd rather be during Christmas time. And although i know that i probably will never be able to live in Singapore ever again, that is where my family is. My friends. Memories. Experiences. Secrets.

I left a part of my heart there when i left. And it will probably always remain there.

You are blue skies

Apart from the leaves-less trees lining the streets, you wouldn't be able to tell that winter is here. Some days, like today, it feels like spring.
(Walking to church in the morning with freshly washed hair, the gorgeous blue, cloudless skies above me and then singing with a faith community that loves God so much- what a way to begin the morning. Sunday mornings are so...easy.)

Other days though, like yesterday, it really does feel like winter.
(The rain falls about me as i look out of the cab wondering if maybe i should redirect the driver to the hospital. The cramps in my stomach bring tears to my eyes. I get home with just enough time to go to the toilet to throw up what seems like a week's worth of food. My skin is scarily sallow and i cannot stop shaking. I lay on the couch and Rel brings me some panadol and water, puts my quilt over me and starts tapping my leg lightly. This tapping reminds me of the way my aunt used to put me to sleep when i was younger and i finally drift off to sleep but not before i weep. I weep for the pain. The physical pain. The emotional pain. The mental torture. I weep for the past month which has been filled with trials. I weep for the love of a friend beside me.
I wake up with no pain.

Rel makes me some toast and we go to church. At church, during worship, the weeping begins yet again. I think back to Thursday night and the tears threaten to overflow. It's never easy to see the man you thought you could fall in love with holding another woman's hand. It's not supposed to be like this, i whisper to God. As i wipe the tears away with my hand, i know somehow that the boy is behind me.
He is.
What can i do but surrender all of this to the One who made me? Release. Peace.)

As i sit here typing, i try not to cry. I miss the liveliness that Jo and Rel brought to my house. I miss their presence in my room. I miss having them next to me in church. I miss, i miss, i miss.

This evening, Daryl called me Tel Aviv (as he usually does). "Bye Munchkin", Phillip said as i left. I remember all the hugs, kisses and words of affirmation that i received from my lovely friends here. I see the bunch of iris(es) sitting on my bedside table. There is a wonderful song playing on the radio. I had garlic bread and an apple, pear, lettuce and feta cheese salad for dinner.
I can't imagine not being here at this very moment.

Less like breakdown, more like surrender

At least i'm not sitting in my bed, listening to a CD of sad songs and eating a tub of ice-cream. Even if there's a small part of me which would love to do just that.

It's times like these that i realise how far i've come. How much i've changed.