Singapore Sling

"Love sees sharply, hatred sees even more sharp. But Jealousy sees the sharpest of all, for it is love and hate at the same time."

-Arab Proverb-

I admit ... I have cursed a whole nation for the actions of one evil creature. I originally wanted to name this post "Singaporean Slut" ... but you all know I never use her real name, even in real life. And since I've just come back from Singapore (shock, horror, it's TRUE!) - my first visit in a decade, I've decided to eat some humble pie, and admit I may have overeacted. Just a bit ...

I don't hate Singapore, as such. It's just the SingaporeanS that I cannot (couldn't?) stand. You see ...

#1 - I had never met a nice Singaporean.

#2 - All the Singaporeans I did meet were highly competitive and always always had to outdo the Malaysian. This constant "I must prove I'm better than a mere Malaysian."

#3 - Malaysia was just generally, the nicer of the two nations. In Singaporean speak, that just meant we were the stupid doormats and were meant to be walked all over.

You see ... I guess the (Singaporean) Slut walked all over me. People ask me why I don't hate Rex. (I don't.) They tell me my anger should be directed at him, not the poor innocent girl whose only fault it was that she fell in love with a boy, who fell right back in love with her. How dare I, the discarded Ex, persona non grata, stand in the way?

Are Rex and the Slut still together? I have no idea. I don't want to know.If they are, I would be upset, and if they aren't, I would hope. Both spell doom for this Vixen, so you'd agree, I'm better off not knowing.

The reason I detest her so much is because she showed no respect for our relationship. Rex and I were deliriously happy ... until she came into the picture. We started bickering, at first, then it escalated into fully fledged rows. I'd never heard him so much as raise his voice with me, but when it came to her, he'd shout, he'd rage, he'd sulk ... this one time we were arguing on Picadilly Circus (right there in full view of everyone), and I swear I thought he was going to hit me. He never did, of course - but I thought he was going to - he was that mad. All because of her.

Women are always smarter then men. We always know, often before the man does. Call it women's intuition. Men take a lot longer to cotton on ... and they only ever think with their other head. The moment I saw the Slut look at my Rex, I knew she wanted him. She took one look at our happiness with each other, the fact that this tall, cultured, educated, okay, I admit it - rich, English man, seemed to be in love with me, a mere Malaysian, she thought, hmph, he can do better. He can be with a Singaporean.

He could be with her.

And even more disturbingly, I began to notice how he was with her. It was different from how he was with any other girl. It wasn't me being psychotically jealous, as he accused me. A subconcious part of me noted that it was like how he used to be with me ... in our early days. You see, I knew what was happening, right before my eyes, and I was powerless to stop it.

Soon after she moved in, whenever I left the halls where we lived, she'd be there in our room, in an instant. Stupid me, I even tried to be friendly at first. She did not say two words to me, but always complained to Rex that I was a moody bitch to her. He told me to try harder. How the poor girl was shy. That she, unlike me, couldn't make friends as easily. Take her under your wing, he said, introduce her to people. Help her settle in. After all, she was almost my countryman.

No, you dolt, she was most certainly NOT.

Oh, she knew how to play the game. I'd come home to find seemingly insignificant, little gifts in our room. Sometimes, just a bit of Rex's favourite chocolate, or cheesecake, which he has a weakness for. Silly little cards and trinkets that may not mean anything to anyone but the Girlfriend i.e ce moi. I thought it was a complete violation, and of course, it pissed me off up to no end.

Rex, silly fool, thought she was being nice.

One day, clear out of the blue, barely days after we signed the papers for our joint bank account, he just announced. "I think we should break up." (thankfully, I still had the papers.) Just like that. No explanations, no emotions.

Like always, we had woken up that morning in the same bed. I didn't have a clue how things were any different. Sure we were fighting so much more than usual, but we loved each other, I thought. It was a mere bump in the road. We'd get over it. Rex even made me coffee, like he had done almost all our mornings together.

It was the sweetest thing. Once, I had mused about how I didn't miss much about home ... except the fact I had to, bleary-eyed, make myself my own cup of coffee before I was barely awake. I didn't even realise he was listening ... but after that, I never had to make coffee again.

I wish he had known how much that one simple act he did for me, all our days together, had meant so much to me. But I never told him, and perhaps, I'm even guilty of taking it for granted.

Unlike a lot of people whose relationship ends, I remember our last kiss. Painfully well. We were having lunch under a tree in Hyde Park. It was a beautiful sunny spring day, and I was feeling happy. I remember it, because he did not kiss me back. It sent alarm bells clanging, but he shrugged off my queries. He also dropped my hand and walked off ahead of me, never again saying another word until "I think we should break-up."

After those fateful words, I left in a flurry of tears and remonstrations. But he did not blink. Those once gentle hazel eyes, always loving and kind, were cold and void of emotion. It absolutely terrified me how in an instant, the closest person to me in the whole world, had become a stranger. I just could not understand it.

I never saw the person I once knew, the man I fell in love with, again.

I came back, two hours later, after calming down, and thinking we should at least talk about it ... but he wasn't in our room. As I opened the door to the corridor, I heard him laughing.

Laughing, as if he did not have a care in the world. My world had fallen apart, my heart ripped in two, but he was laughing. How easily he had talked about forever, about how he did not believe in love until me, about how "we share a bond some never know in this lifetime". How we were soulmates.

Laughing, with her.

So let me have my hatred, for I'm not left with much else. I don't blame the nation, for some reason, I don't blame him ... but I blame her. I hope what they say about karma is true.

It comes around.