I wish there were more hours in a day. That way, I could use the spare time to… well… dunno lah.
Yes, things have been busy.
But I am looking forward to five days away from work as I fly to Hong Kong and attend my ex’s wedding. Why am I attending the ex’s wedding? Because she invited me. It wouldn’t have made a difference if I were there or not, seeing as we hardly ever speak to each other apart from our birthdays. It’ll be the first time I’ll be meeting her husband. They’ve been dating for a year or so. So you could say it was a pretty quick thing, them deciding to get married. But you know how things are at our age. Don’t waste time liao.
If I had more hours in a day, I know already. I’d spend some of the spare time wondering why it was that I was the first person the ex called to tell me her ‘hand has been asked for in marriage’. (To which I replied, ‘only your hand? that’s not too terrible then’.) I’d also wonder why I did this major backflip, because only three years ago, I told her if she were dating someone else, I didn’t want to know, and if she were to get married, I didn’t want to be there.
Time wounds all heels.
It’s been long enough since we broke up (7 years), that I no longer feel anything of a heartache when I think about her, but you know how exes’ wedddings can affect you. I just don’t know exactly how it does, but that it does.
If I had more hours in a day, I’d wonder why I don’t remember what it’s really like to be in a relationship anymore, and how I think I am scared shitless every time I start to form an emotional bond with anyone.
If I had more hours in a day, I’d be tired.