Category Archives: Blog / Daily Life

The Center of My Universe

I didn’t start this relationship with you with the idea that I would be getting crumbs of attention. No, just a sip won’t do. The whole reason that I fell for you was because I wanted to drown in your love. Engulf me. Swallow me whole.

When you acted as if my presence was enough for you, as if I didn’t need to put on an act, I didn’t need to perform… You made me feel like you not only accepted me, but also adored me, cherished me, and celebrated me. When you acted as if no details in my life were ever insignificant to you. When you placed your eyes on me as if I was the center of my own universe.

Those are the reasons I fell in love with you. Those are the reasons my heart keeps pining for you. And when you’re not here it’s like my heart tries to claw itself out, rip my chest open from the inside, tear myself apart so it could reach out and grab you.

Lebay. But it does feel like that, I’m not joking.

But the way you’ve been treating me this past month has been less than acceptable. I was made to wait on you, work hard to earn a shred of your affection. Like when you slept with your ex and I felt you were pulling away from me. You made me think I was just imagining things. Like I was just hormonal. Overly sensitive.

I bent over backwards waiting on my hands and knees, be the best girl for you to earn back your tenderness. And I thought I finally did. And I was happy.

But then the Reddit DM thing happened. Again I was being stone-walled, gaslit, manipulated. I was made to think of my sins and repent even though I didn’t do anything wrong. I was pressured to admit guilt over something I never did. You were trying to crack me open under pressure. Instead of just… Communicating with me like I was your girlfriend.

But nah. I don’t think you think of me as your girlfriend anymore, and I don’t know when that stopped. Although you did say I was your woman, your best girl… But I don’t think you think of me as an equal to you anymore. Let alone putting me on a pedestal.

You put me in the backseat. Heck. The trunk maybe. I kept trying to chase your shadows and beg for crumbs of love, sleeping with notifications on, waiting for your messages. Ears perked up with every notification, never dared to let a minute go by before replying to you. I was so parched, that I felt like I had to be grateful you scrapped together some attention for me.

Maybe I was too much for you. But can you really blame me for being clingy to you when you were the one who trained me to depend on you? To count on you to catch me when I fall? To count on you to come running if I just rang the bell?

So all the way from your health problem to your ex to reddit DM to your mom to your office to your vacation… You haven’t been present, but I get it. I can take the backseat. Sure, why not. I try to stay still and wait until your life calms down a bit and you’ll have more time for me. It’s okay. Life happens, but you’ll save the last dance for me won’t you?

And through all that I held my end of the bargain so to speak. I texted you first thing in the morning, and the last thing before I went to sleep. I had been a very good girl. I’m bruised and battered and bleeding holding my post to keep being connected to you. But then what did I get?

You still questioned if I cared.

When the real question is, do you?

You don’t.

Somewhere along the way in this relationship the tables have turned. I am now the one pursuing you all the time. I’m the one panicking over losing you. I’m the one simping. I’m the one feeling butterflies when you told me you loved me.

How did it end up like this, I wonder. Maybe sleeping with your ex had made you realized that sex can be good be anyone else, it doesn’t have to be me. Or maybe it made you realize that you wanted something in person, and I do not fulfill you enough.

Or maybe you were never actually the loving, doting, passionate man who fell head over heels for me. Maybe it was NRE after all. Maybe my time is up.

I’m done.

If you weren’t gonna freely give me your love, I don’t want to chase it. If you weren’t gonna shower me with your attention, I’m done begging for it. If I no longer make you happy, so happy that you smile yourself to sleep just because I was there with you… Then why am I even fighting so hard for you? If you weren’t gonna cherish me, adore me, anchor me to the center of my universe… If you don’t want me. Then why am I stubbornly staying?

I have done all I could. And I’m done.

It was a heck of a journey. But I’m still glad we met, and we gave it a try. I’m still glad cos you made me feel things I have never felt before. You showed me the kind of happiness I didn’t know was ever available or even possible for me. If I could pull through, one day I can give myself a real chance at a love like that.

But for now I need to find ways to face my fears. Of the dark, the silence, the most vulnerable seconds right when I’m falling asleep. Cos those moments are when your ghost haunts me the most. Your warmth, those sparkles in your eyes, the soft cotton on your shirt, your twinkling smile. Your love for me. Sweet dreams that sweep me off my feet and make me lose my balance again and again… But they’re not real.

The reality is… You’re not here.

I read this somewhere and just had to write it down.

To love deeply without expecting permanence.

To find peace in the ruins of expectations.

To stop asking life for guarantees it can not give.

To respect the endings you didn’t choose.

To forgive yourself for things you could not prevent.

To accept that nothing we love is truly safe, and still choose to love anyway.

To remember beginnings are born from ruins, not from control.

To trust your hands enough to begin again.

It’s Not Real Until It’s Real

There are so many things I could say about him. The fact that he saw me just being myself, he liked me, he pursued me, and he persisted. I was so sure he would give up within months, but somehow the more he dug the more he got stuck. It’s hard to believe, he not only accepts me however I am, he actually wants me. Whatever I throw at him he gladly takes it. He can skillfully handle me. Contain me. Tame me. But above all, he adores me to no end. How did that happen? How was that possible?

A lot of times when I see happy loving couples on social media I treat them as fiction love stories. They’re not real and I may never experience a love like that. And I have accepted that as a fact, because the reality is I am stuck in a life that I thought I wanted. The life that I worked to build, but turned out to be so lonely. So suffocating.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t understand how it can be viscerally powerful: The feeling of being the object of someone’s intense affection.

But then he taught me that. He grabbed my hand and dragged me back into the center of my own universe. It’s unbelievable, the way he saw me, he understood my shortcomings, my toxic traits, and yet he still adores me anyway. It’s honestly hard to believe. And that’s why I kept saying, it’s not real until it’s real.

But then he sat across from me and smiled at me and stared at me like I was the only woman ever existed for him… Now it is real. What am I gonna do about it?

He’s my once in a lifetime. It’s fucking heartbreaking.

Crash and burn

I let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug.
I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved…

I guess it is unfair to hope that infatuations will last forever. People will admire you for a little bit. They might even obsess about you for some time. Until you make a mistake and slip and fall down the pedestal. Or maybe even if you never did anything wrong, eventually they find the next newest, shiniest thing. Whichever one comes first.

I Thought I Missed You

…But I might have been wrong.

It’s such a weird feeling that’s been hanging in the back of my mind for a while. “You’re Still The One” by Teddy Swims reminds me of you. When I pleasure myself I have a hard time fantasizing about other people. So I must be hung up on you, right? I must have had feelings for you, right?

So why is it that all the other love songs I listen to sound so exaggerated and so wrong? I can’t relate. Nothing describes my so-called “feelings” for you. I was listening to Katy Perry’s “Thinking Of You” when I realized that. She sang, how do I get better once I’ve had the best?

Logically speaking, you should be the best I’ve ever had. I mean, you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve been with, that’s for sure. You’re a lot of my firsts, and I could say without a doubt that you are extremely hot.

…But you’re not really the best for me, are you. We didn’t really connect as well as I wrote we did, did we.

Maybe what I missed was more of what I could be when I was with you? Maybe what I missed was our potential, what we could have been. Maybe I wrote so many things about us and I fell in love with the idea of us, rather than falling for… You.

It is for sure unfortunate that we couldn’t be what I thought we could. What you convinced me we could, even after time and time again I reminded you of how inexperienced I am. Maybe you had me convinced that I was enough, even with my limitations. Maybe you had given me hope that I was enough, even with all my shortcomings. And maybe I had let myself believe you. So maybe what I’m missing is more of those abstract hopes and ideas rather than… You.

Look. I’m not saying you’re not special. I am thankful for the ways you practically dragged me out of my hidings. I’m grateful you visited my life, and left a mark so big I am now out here wildin’. You gave me the push I needed to embrace that I probably could be what I wanted to be, if I just try. And you let me try. And I’m thankful for that.

But now it’s all over and I’m just standing alone. And I thought I missed you.

…But I just don’t.

Is this how people feel about their one night stands? You’re not a one night stand for me, though. You were mine. Or at least “the idea of you” is mine. Was mine.

Compartmentalization, Dead Bedrooms, and Adultery

Let me preface this by saying, my writing this time is more of a mind gym rather than condoning or sponsoring any ideas.

Recently I learned what it means to compartmentalize. The children’s book, Color Monster, provides a good visual of what it is. But if you never read it… Well. Basically, since we humans have complex feelings most of the time, it might get mixed up and one feeling might affect the others, for better or worse. Compartmentalizing helps you untangle the mess and tidy up your feelings… So to speak.

An easy example I can come up with, that I think you might be able to relate better, is when my father passed away. It was a difficult time, cos I was thousands of kms away from them, I couldn’t visit, I couldn’t be there for his funeral, and plus I have two small kids to take care of and life has to go on. So I had to put my sadness and grief into a metaphorical box and close it, to access it another day when it’s safer to do so. And then the time came for me to access it—It was night time, the kids were asleep, I was watching through a video call when they closed my dad’s coffin. It was safe to access the sadness and grief, so only then I let it out. Then the day after, I put everything back in the box and close it, to access it again some other time.

So that’s called compartmentalizing: Stepping back from your feelings and deliberately making decisions and choices. A kind friend once said, this makes us effective, but less moral. You’ll probably see why if you keep reading.

People change. That much we know is true. Sometimes in a long-term relationship, the people in it could have different experiences that would make them gain new perspectives and change the way they are. Sometimes it can be minimum, unnoticeable, and business may proceed as usual. Other times though, the changes can be more significant, and eating away at relationships.

I’m thinking, more particularly, about Dead Bedrooms.

For reasons I wouldn’t disclose but you could probably guess, this is a subreddit I frequently visit. It’s dark, it’s depressing, it’s full of people in agony and misery due to the lack of bedroom activities. Some people choose to stay in the dead bedroom relationship because their lives are too intertwined with their spouses. Most of the time there are kids involved. And it’s not uncommon to see people saying things like, “Other than the lack of intimacy, everything else is great.”

People who choose to stay in the Dead Bedroom, or perhaps are stuck in there, would understand that lack of intimacy is way more than just lack of sex. It’s missing being desired, being adored, being wanted… It can corrode your confidence, make you question yourself—What did you do to make your partner not want to touch you? What is lacking from you? Is there anything wrong with how you look? How you smell, maybe? Is there anything you’re not doing that makes your partner decide to withhold intimacy?

So you keep trying to fulfil your partner’s needs, and beyond. You make sure they have everything they want, in hopes that they would give you what you want: Touch. Desire. Intimacy.

Most of the posts in Dead Bedroom subreddit are stories about how it just simply never works. A lot of people have just given up on trying, albeit continuously building resentment over their partners. A lot of people eventually cave into the temptations of extramarital providers.

In a situation where leaving a marriage is almost impossible and may cause more sorrow than good, adultery becomes an option.

It’s a common unspoken consensus that if you do commit adultery, you do it as a way to make you a better partner for your spouse. That way you can have the stability of marriage, but at the time get your needs taken care of, without having to pester your spouse for sex. Or validations. Or romance. Or whatever other reasons that make you choose to seek affairs.

Now comes the next problem. As we all know the theory of love, the more effort you spend on someone, the more attached to them you’d feel. In other words, there might be feelings involved. Love, even. So how does an adulterer reap the benefits of having outside providers, but also at the same time maintaining the stability of their main relationships and their home? The answer is, of course, by compartmentalizing.

To be a ‘successful’ adulterer, let’s look into non-monogamy for a little bit. There is such a thing called ethical non-monogamy, which is a type of relationship with more than one person, but everyone involved agrees to it and is honest about it. Therefore it is respectful and consensual.

There is also a type of non-monogamy relationship called DADT, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Partners agree not to disclose details about their other relationships to each other. Sometimes even if it’s not explicitly discussed, the underlying principle is that there’s a mutual understanding to keep certain aspects of their non-monogamous relationships private from each other. Because of the nature of secrecy in DADT non-monogamy, it is questionable if this type of relationship is respectful and consensual, and therefore people might argue that it is not ethical.

In the same nature of secrecy, comes adultery. Although of course, in adultery, the main partner’s consent is completely disregarded. Therefore it is a violation of trust, honesty, and respect within a committed partnership. However, relationships are full of nuances, and the justifications of adultery can be context-dependent. For example, in situations where there is abuse or neglect within a relationship, or where leaving the relationship entirely would cause more harm than good, people might dip into adultery as a means of self-preservation.

Then it becomes the question of if it is justified to trade off ethical considerations such as honesty and integrity with personal happiness and general well-being.

Like I said before, relationships are full of nuances. We have monogamy, ethical non-monogamy, DADT non-monogamy, and adultery… Why isn’t there such a thing as ethical adultery?

But anyways, now let’s leave the questions about the ethics of adultery. In this writing I would like to just focus on the nature of the non-monogamy relationships and adultery, which is having multiple partners in addition to the main partner.

So how does that work? As a monogamous person one might think they don’t have enough space in their heart or mind to have more than one partner, as it might affect their commitments and feelings for their main partner.

However, people in non-monogamy relationships and ‘successful’ adulterers compartmentalize their primary relationship from their extramarital relationships. So that their partners aren’t necessarily competing with each other, but rather are providing different things.

For example, think of a marriage that is great but it is between a kinky person and a vanilla person. The kinky one felt unsatisfied because their kinky needs aren’t met, and to top it all off, it’s a dead bedroom situation. In this case, the kinky spouse could seek a kinky relationship that could help them in exploring or expressing their authentic self, but not necessarily take from or replace their marriages.

That way the unsatisfied spouse is less bitter about not having their needs met and fulfilled, and therefore is able to be a better primary partner for their spouse. Their extramarital partners are just providing missing pieces for their jigsaw puzzles, and not changing the whole picture.

It works for some people. Although again, whether adultery can be justified or not would depend on individual perspectives and the specific circumstances involved. And yes, I raise an argument that adultery can be justified, or even ethical.

But that’s the thing about compartmentalization, as a friend kindly said to me: When you step away from feelings, you become more effective, but probably less moral. And when you get to that stage you might even agree that the less damaging option is most probably the better one for everyone involved, even if it involves some dishonesty.

Because the ends justify the means.

The Spectrum

For the longest time I have realized that my son is different. For instance, music calms him down in a very strange way. As a baby, whenever he was crying, he’d stop crying as soon as I started singing. It’s not even because of mom’s soothing voice, nah, he’s just always very interested in melody. During these early days I remember that I noticed he wasn’t interested in people. He was never clingy, he was content playing by himself, maybe once in a while he would come to me, but he was never looking for me. No bye-byes, no hellos. And usually during the mandatory developmental checkups (every few months, or years) there are some questionnaires to answer, and I remember the very first time I felt like no one was taking me seriously.

“Does the child turn to you when you call their name?”
No, no he never did.

But of course, even if he was on the spectrum, he was probably too small to do anything about it anyways, so probably that’s why they just shrugged it off. And there were other things that needed more attention, like how he wasn’t walking yet. The city hall called us every few months to check up on his development. When he was finally started walking, they finally moved on to being concerned about his speech.

Sadly, because I’m a foreigner, they kinda blamed language confusion as the reason for him to not be speaking yet. I was told to use more Japanese… Which.. Yeah sure, I’d do that. But they failed to understand that I believed there was something different about him…

Although they kept calling us every few months to check up on us, he was 3 and a half years old when they finally decided he needed more support. August 2023. They finally did assessments and decided he needed to get into rehabilitation.

But it’s just so tough, the rehabilitation center that the City Hall sent us to, Himawari (総合療育センターひまわり学園), is so overbooked that we could only go once a month for less than an hour of session. And it’s just so fucking far. I had to go first by bicycle to the station, then take a train, then take a bus, then still walk again for 15 minutes. I just. Can’t. Is it all worth it?? For less than one hour session once a month?? But I mean, of course I’d do it, even though begrudgingly.

When it was decided that he was going to Himawari, I felt finally validated. I felt that finally I’d get the help that I had been needing, but it was a tad too late. I felt that I was alone in it for too long, without a clue, without help, and it honestly made me feel bitter.

I was venting about this to a foreigner mom group on Facebook, and someone introduced me to Copel Plus (児童発達支援スクール – コペルプラス). It’s kinda like a rehabilitation center as well, but it’s privately owned and there aren’t health professionals. I looked it up and found out that there’s a branch quite close to my house. So I sent an inquiry and made it happen. It’s supposedly not free. I don’t know tbh. My son has the developmental delay letter from the doctor, and using that recommendation letter we were able to get the City Hall to pay it for us.

Now my son goes to Copel 2-3 times a week, and goes to Himawari once a month or so. It has been like this since November 2013. He has shown improvements, albeit slowly, but he’s starting to communicate a little better by using more words and phrases. His physical skills are developing too, he’s started jumping with both feet like on a trampoline or on the couch. He’s never done that before, so that’s fun.

And about his being in the spectrum, although I have voiced my concerns to the doctors back in Himawari, they are still yet to give a diagnosis. I don’t know what’s stopping them tbh, the signs are clear as day. My son doesn’t respond most of the time you call his name, he repeats jargons (echolalia), he’s especially very interested in shapes and letters…

But anyways. Here’s to hoping he’ll get more and more used to communicating his wants and needs.

But to be honest though, it has been so draining and so hard, I’ve been feeling so lonely. And in this journey I caught myself a few times asking myself why I decided to have children? It’s so fucking hard, what did I do to myself? I mean I knew it would be hard, and I also know it’s gonna get better. It doesn’t make it less hard of course.

When I was setting up this site I was tidying up my old posts and ended up reading my older post about my hopes and dreams when I decided to have kids. It reminded me that I was mostly hoping that my kids will live a happy life, discover things they’d enjoy doing, and falling in love with life.

And even with how hard it is now for me, all the sacrifices we need to make, all the misery, the loneliness, the struggles, even with all the hardships, I think my kids are quite enjoying life so far. My son is especially interested in music, and alphabets, and shapes, and colors. And he’s quite happy in general. So I must be doing something right.

Maybe God Can Tell My Dad I Said Hi

So… I went to church today for the first time in forever. Maybe it sounds a little silly since I’m not all that religious anymore, but the church felt like home somehow. Everything was so familiar, although people were speaking in a language I don’t really understand, and singing songs I don’t know about. But even just the sounds, the sight, even the smell, felt like home. And it’s hard to describe but I felt like it connects me to ‘home’. Granted, I now have my own little home in this side of the world, but a huge piece of me was moulded somewhere else, you know?

And as weird as it sounds cos I’m not too religious anymore, I’m thankful to be a part of the church. Cos before my dad passed away he was baptized, he died as a Catholic although he wasn’t always one. And his funeral was done the Catholic way. Sooooo technically, the Catholic God may or may not have been present at my dad’s funeral. Although I definitely wasn’t.

So today at the church I asked God how it went. I also told God that my dad wasn’t a bad man, he was always respectful to Him. All those time that I spent at church when I was younger? Sure my dad wasn’t there but he was supportive of it, he sent me there and picked me up, always. So that must count as something, right? And because he died as a Catholic and was cremated in the name of God, that means he’s now a part of the church as well, right? So… Maybe God could tell him I said hi. Maybe God could tell him there’s not many cockroaches in Japan so I’m alright and he could rest peacefully hahah

As weird as it is, my most favorite memory about my dad was that one time he rescued me from an army of cockroaches in front of our house. I was probably 26 or 27 at that time, but still such a wimp, couldn’t move at the sight of a cockroach. That one particular night though, it was raining a lot so the streets were a little flooded. Those cockroaches tried to escape water by climbing our house’s gate. So naturally, I stood in front of the neighbor’s house and called for help. My dad was at the store with my mom, but he came straight home in his motorbike, fetched me from in front of the neighbor’s house (about 3 meters away), got me on his motorbike and chaufer me into the house lmao!

Two years ago (2021) I went back home to visit him, and brought Takeru with me cos I wanted them to meet while my dad was still alive. He had already had multiple strokes by then so he was bed-ridden. Some days he was conscious, some days not. I wasn’t sure he recognized me when I arrived, but I remember my mom announced my presence to him by yelling, “Do you recognize her?? She’s the one that’s scared of cockroaches!!” My dad didn’t answer. Had my mom announce it by saying it’s your daughter, maybe my dad would’ve recognized me right away.

But anyways. He eventually did. One time during my visit there I was able to hear him call my name in the sing-song tone he’d usually use. Although we didn’t chat much, as he wasn’t able to hold a conversation anymore, probably wasn’t able to see clearly either.

I’m glad I went to visit him at that time. I have always suspected that I wouldn’t be able to be at his funeral. And after much thought, I decided that it was more important to me to visit him while he was still alive. And that’s what I did, and I have minimum regrets cos I know I did what I could. I introduced my son to him, and at that time I was pregnant with my daughter so technically my daughter has met him too.

I remember when I was leaving… I kissed his cheek for the last time, fully decided that that was gonna be the last kiss I’d plant on his cheek. It was kinda interesting, remembering how when I was a little kid I would always kiss his cheek whenever I was going to sleep. At that time though, I was kissing his cheek cos he was going to sleep.

And so… It happened. He passed away, February 12th 2024.

Of course, I wasn’t there. My mom and brothers were, though. They had offered me a video call during his last moments, but I hesitated so much… I’m not entirely sure if I regret hesitating. Maybe a little? But that’s fine and I can live with it. At least now he’s a free soul. If God existed, then we’re probably gonna hang out again some time. But for now, I at least went to church last Sunday to ask God to pass my hi and well wishes to him.

And to tell him that even though we didn’t always have the best father and daughter relationship, and even though sometimes I had wished he was easier to love, but I appreciate him in my life and everything he did for me.