Why change is scary

Because it’s telling us why it matters.

I used to be a spoiled and doted daughter whom everything is taken care of. Once when I was 7 years old, I cried and kicked the bedroom window because my brother didn’t want to help me with my school homework. I suffered two inches scar on my left foot and enjoyed two months breaks from school. My habits continued until after high school where I was incapable of doing things on my own without the presence of my parents.

All it takes to change me was the news of my dad’s second marriage.

Perhaps my example is too harsh, but forceful or voluntary, changes in our lives are inevitable. Whether it is decided out of our self-introspection or due to life major events, change will always comes knocking at our door.

Deciding to change

Andrew Matthews, the author of Happiness Now puts a funny metaphor to life where we tend to be comfortable with the way things are around us even when it’s not good. It’s like getting into an initially smelly bathroom and after a while sitting in it, we ask, what smell?

Which is why it is important for us to change while we are still aware of things that bother us.

Dreaming of studying that one course? Find a way to do it! Having been in a negative relationship for far too long? Leave it! As for my case, I had asked myself four years ago, do I still want to count on dad when he might have another daughters and sons he cares about? No, I’ve got to take care of myself now!

Change is bold, change is daring, change is adventurous. To change means to put a break to our moving lives, to stop and think about it, and finally to change the course of our direction.

Hardly easy, right?

But it’s how it is. However, I assure you, once we get around to it, things become easier and easier. Once we accept changes are only a part of life, and we learned how to deal with it, it doesn’t matter if the change is difficult.

Why change is scary

So what makes changes scary? Deriving from personal experiences, I recognize several fears that are holding us back from taking that first step.

• We’re afraid of our own potential. 

‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure‘, so wrote Marianne Williamson in her book, A Return to Love. Once we decide to realize our potential, the bar for our standard will be heightened and we have to act accordingly. It takes willingness, discipline, and a lot of courage. Which explains why most people opt to stay in their comfort zone. Because it sure sounds like a lot of hard works to me. 

• We’re afraid of failure and disappointment. 

Starting a new thing doesn’t guarantee us immediate success or results. Not knowing itself is scary. Changing puts our present status quo at stake, and we are not willing to feel inferior again (remember our first day at new school?). Thinking about the what-ifs and the future makes us anxious and uncertain to pursue it. Why sacrifice what we already have now for something we are not sure of in the future? Regardless whether now is helpful enough or not, at least now we have something!

• We need other people’s approval. 

I think the biggest challenge of all for us to change for the better is because no man is an island. Consciously or subconsciously, we live with a sense of belief that our worth is dependent on other people’s approval. Often it becomes our excuse for not doing anything, because we don’t want to disrupt the established status quo we have in our social circle. To change means to step out of our character, to manifest our beliefs which might contradict others’ ways of life. In the present society where conformity is important, unless you’re a born loner, you definitely don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb among your peers.

But changes are still necessary, right?

Changes come in our life as opportunities, emotional pains, physical trauma. It sends a message to us to re-assess our life, and change our life patterns. To change means to evolve, and to evolve means to progress. In addition, no one is responsible for our personal growth but ourselves.

These fears, as intimidating as they are, are opportunities to build us. The key is to take time to learn about it, face it head on and use it to our advantage.

Remember what Tsun Zu said, keep our friends close and keep our enemies closer.

A certain sweet experience

I hadn’t look forward for the trip home, dreading the 8 hours journey through the suburb areas of the east coast. It wasn’t the scenery I loathed, for I had ardently enjoyed my trip going back and forth through the states before - I was driving on my own, singing out loud to the maximum volume of the radio station and cussing freely without offending anybody to whom I intended for.

It was the cruel incumbent requirement of sitting still on my number 1A seat, right behind the bus driver, the limitation of not being able to speak out loud to my desired judgment, and the restriction on my singing needs - despite my actual ability (or, inability) to sing.

Rather pessimistic, I vowed to myself not to have any expectation for the journey - I shall be content with the passing of time until I finally reach home.

Until he climbed aboard and sat beside me.

I was working on my sudoku puzzle, with the TIME magazine on my lap - two actions which I know would immediately drive any man my age away. Learning from my personal experience and close observation of my community members, I realize that seriousness and maturity is not very popular in the romance industry - which, believe me my readers, I am one expert at.

Stealing a quick glance to my left, I made a full first impression of his physical appearance - striped t-shirt, jeans, a pair of boots, and a backpack. I scrolled down through my interpretations - already working, slightly settled with himself, but not confident enough with how his life’s heading so far.

He picked up his phone, and talking rather sweetly to the caller - taken, I decided. I smiled to myself, returning to the singing of Michael Buble in my head. I could easily ask his destination, and his name and what he’s doing. Because despite my introvert nature, I approach stranger rather easily as I willed. But given my recent miscalculated events with not one but three guys, I pushed away the thought of even trying.

(Now, I am NOT going to write about my one pathological need of making a version of my perfect guy out of every man I met)

So passed half of our journey with me from time to time leafing through the magazine, working on my puzzle (I managed to finish two sets), and singing casually to my phone. I walked pass him with difficulty as I was rushing to the restroom and him still sitting rather sleepily on his seat, and we had exchanged a quick stare while buying drinks in the restaurant, obviously checking out on each other.

Why, you cannot deny nature - opposites do attracts. Man and woman - the ultimate yin and yang.

So on the next half of our journey, he began our introduction by offering me his set of sweets - which unfortunately I am not a fan of. But I had returned his kindness with simple questions - of his destination, his job, and the place where he studied. A quiet guy, and definitely not a sweet-talker - but suited enough for my casual interest. He made a comment on my lack of east coast accent, and I had happily explained the twist of my nationality and birth place. Talking and talking, rather relaxed and unfazed, we laughed, and receded back to our silent self to enjoy the rest of the journey.

Carefully, we managed to avoid the dangerous waters.

He had to part at the earlier destination, and both of us sighed with relief at the obligatory separation - as if there was a silent pact between us, we are not going to tread the unthinkable. So, as he jokingly invited me to join him and I declined his offer with a laugh - we said our goodbyes.

We did not exchanged names, more so our phone numbers.

Reaching home, I stepped out of the bus with a smile on my face, triumphantly rejoicing the success of avoiding the temptation to create another chapter of disaster in my life.

This one, this story, this journey - is going to be the sweet filler.

Being green is difficult

I once proposed a suggestion to my friend as we got ourselves drained in a heated debate about global warming and the fate of environment in Malaysia. I asked, what if all these conflicts are simply a cycle every nation has to go through? What if it is a necessary hierarchical development for us to climb; from being a war-torn and illiterate, to industrialized and finally an eco-concious country as a result?

What if right now we are simply not there yet?

I had, of course, concluded my idea with a hint of sarcasm and defeat, in submission to our failure of contributing fruitfully to environmental cause during our student days.

So, imagine my surprise to find the idea being supported by a Dr. Ulrich Bornewasser during his talk about the evolution of clean industrial process in Germany. Perhaps not in its entirety, but as Dr. Bornewasser describes about how the Germans tolerated the toxic-laden Rhine river in early 70s because the issue of environment was not as important as how industries provide the nation their bread and bacon, I tried to match their condition to ours. A question arise in my mind, are we Malaysians today where the Germans were 50 years ago?

If my theory is correct, it means I can only see Malaysia the way Germany is now when I am almost 70 years of age!

Despite our enthusiasm towards being environmentally-sound citizens, living green in Malaysia is still difficult. Conventionality, convenience, economic - the reasons to resist our effort in being eco-conscious are manifold. Changing our habits is one thing, encouraging others is a different challenge altogether. Separating the garbage in my house for instance, requires additional chore on my part, because I would be grateful enough if the leftover foods on the table go straight to the bin or it becomes my duty to dispose the fermented variety if I come home later. Composting? Our house doesn’t have a lawn. Cooking organic food and fair-trade ingredients? Only if we get lucky, because in my family, cooking at all is considered festive. Plastic bags? Mom says there are thousands use for it as a reason for us to hoard the plastic bags at home after our grocery shopping, only what the use are, I suppose mom never really finds out (she suggested once, I could make a coaster out of the colorful plastic bag, I forgot to answer her, mom, we don’t use coasters in our home).

I am talking still about trying to save the world in our limited personal space, not yet touching the issues of nature conservation and fighting for the cause of threatened species. My brothers spends their free time finishing the last bits of electric power to win their Need for Speed match, mom and dad works almost 24/7 in front of their little notebook. How on earth could I ever persuade my family to spend a screen-free weekend camping by the river? Only if I rich enough to sponsor everyone to experience the soothing dawn with the hornbills at Taman Negara, but the last time I volunteered, I burnt a hole in my scholarship pocket money and my Kancil tyres suffered a considerable injury after a proud attempt to follow the PERHILITAN’s four-wheel drive vehicle up the hill of Genting. As of now, I am broke, jobless, and severely anxious for not being able to live up to my green living expectations. At the rate I am going, being green seems as far unattainable as living luxuriously celebrity-like. Then again, who drives the hybrid Toyota Prius and supports the use of solar energy but the likes Leonardo DiCaprio and Edward Norton? Enough said.

Moreover, it is not helping that green living is not endorsed by our system. Imagine going to a supermarket where no plastic bags are given out (like the moment I fumbled at a grocery store in Cologne for being so used to plastic bags, I was embarrassed but glad!) and where our garbage will only be collected if they are separated according to their material types, surely it would make me feel a lot better. Imagine the kitchen basin with a complete grinding system for organic waste, which will be flushed straight to the composting system. Imagine!

So, I am honestly partially glad at the news given by Dr. Bornewasser, I try not to feel too bad and too guilty for living like a bum at home for now. The fault couldn’t be mine alone. I certainly hope, as Germany 50 years ago, Malaysia right now is moving ahead towards equipping herself bits by bits, to be a sustainably-developed country. Perhaps it’s unfair, to expect things to be done all at once. Even human developed progressively, even Rome wasn’t built in a day. We are, all of us, I hope, moving in the right directions.

The time will soon come, when I work with the United Nations earning a five figure salary, dividing my time between my homeland and South Africa, working on various conservation and community projects. The time will come, when I am engaged with my comrades from other countries, the way we were acquainted years before, fighting for a cause we all believe in. The time will come, when I pioneer the practice of nationwide domestic recycling and composting in every household.

For now, forgive me - for dreaming excessively - because living green is difficult.

Escaping to Kuantan

A circle of my friends and I seem to agree on a joke about Kuantan as we first arrived at the town a year ago. Rural migrants, we call ourselves. Having been forced to migrate from the big city of Kuala Lumpur as a result of our campus relocation, the first thing we noticed about the town was how slow it seems for everything to get done.

Our colleagues used to tease my friend as she drives her rustic red Kancil about town. Five minutes, they would say, I bet she’s going to lose her temper in five minutes. A true KL urbanite who used to live in Seattle for eight years, driving in the sleepy town of Kuantan is certainly a challenge for my friend.

Fast-forward almost a year and a half later, I find myself complaining about anxiety to my friend as we drove home after a visit to Mid Valley Megamall. God, I don’t remember how busy KL was. My friend smiled and nodded, I don’t think I’m going to remember KL after all these years of studying, it’s Kuantan which actually shaped us.

Rural happiness

My friend is right. Despite our never-ending complaints at the beginning, we soon discover tons of excuses to appreciate the city. Besides, the thought of graduating in a year gave us a firm resolve not to let time pass by with us brooding in our rooms.

One of the first things Kuantan has to offer which readily melt our heart was of course, its sightly city. The air is clear compared to the smoky haze we are accustomed to in KL, and often we wake up to a thick fog blanketing our campus in the morning. I particularly love it the way we could see the beaches as I drive up the spiral route to Berjaya Megamall parking lot, we could even taste the salty air sometimes during hot days. Teluk Chempedak, with its vast shoreline and friendly breeze, became our playgrounds day and night. The audacious monkeys and their little ones, together with the weary cats, are simply considered as the rightful inhabitants of the beach. Oh, did I mention about the macaques with their hooting match, and the way we could spot the hornbill couples jumping from tree to tree while waiting for the traffic light to go green?

In Kuantan, everything is so blended in together it is impossible to pick one thing apart from another. Look at one of its many food court, for instance, Dataran Gambut, which features a local band every Wednesday night. It was a defining moment for me the first time the band took their seats and play their music, because it was so unlike I had expected a music band to be. The members are usually escorted by some family members, ranging from wives to elderly dad. One of the singers (the only female singer) wears tudung and sings in Mandarin! During one Maulidur Rasul night, the band started their session with a lengthy selawat, to be joined in by other diners despite the awkward looks of few youngsters. My friend and I could sit there by ourselves without ever feeling out of place. Recently we found a new eatery spot, Relax Cafe, where I enjoyed a delightful Terengganu traditional mini bun, served English way complete with a New Zealand butter and home made kaya and soft-boiled eggs. It was hillarious! Restoran Zaman is another place I couldn’t help but be amazed every visit. Not only the customers are plenty, but they seem to come from everywhere; TUDM, tourists on the road, and the nearby residents. It makes me feel like I was the one who is a native Kuantan dweller.

Speaking of native Kuantan dwellers, I would say they are a vivacious lots. Not quite as wary as Kelantanese or as proud as KL urbanites, it seems like they are always ready to say something to us everywhere we go. In addition, the way we get to reach to every different nooks and crannies of Kuantan city allows us to befriend different people. We encountered a kind lady during one of Ramadhan nights, at the mosque where we had our tarawih, who is now a landlady to one of my friends. My car was once sent to a workshop located deep in one of the kampungs hidden behind a factory. We even cut a business deal with one of the restaurant owners we used to frequent during our supper excursions. Living in Kuantan to me feels like being in a magical kingdom where we get to go places and meet different people to complete our tasks. Unlike in KL, where we are only students whose life are bound by the surrounding boundaries of our campus, in Kuantan we became its inhabitants, one with the city itself.

Kuantan in a nutshell

In a way, this was how Kuantan shaped us. It slows us down from the usual hurried KL lifestyle. We have no traffic to avoid, no LRT schedules to keep up to. Everything is almost within a 10-minute drive. We could sit with our friends, enjoying each other companies, and simply watch people going about. We could visit a cafe so often the waiters know us and let us be by ourselves how many hours we intended to. Kuantan relieves us of the many aggrandizements we used to crave (shopping spree, Burger King, Hush Puppies) we turn to the comfort of our personal friends to get by the ample time we have in our hands.

We learn to communicate through lengthy conversation, exchanging ideas on our likes and dislikes. We get to know each other better, and we become avid observers of each other’s habits we could spell each one’s with eyes closed. Friendship become important, and materialistic substitutes become, only substitutes.

I would like to relate about the variety of food we have experienced, but that is another story…

Learning to hack life

Recently I realized how ICT (information and communication technology, FYI) had become something quite of a dread to me.

Although having only two email accounts, both of which I use way below its space limits, I have difficulties replying even to the halves of each. In addition, what with the non-repliable emails, notifications, and subscriptions I barely read. I still question the need to have any Friendster or Facebook accounts because I do not see any of my relationships improving because of it. Updating the profile is fun when I have nothing better to do, but I’ve always felt foolish afterwards - confused at what was I trying to show or prove. But I keep my accounts active anyway on account of keeping in touch with people I am afraid to lose contact with, despite our almost non-existent communication in real-life. I will not even write about passing virtual drinks or declaring someone to be my top friends - I mean, seriously?

The phone is my another source of damnation. Sometimes the way people could get into my life easily through instant messages get to me - a short cut to face-to-face, personal communication, which so many of us are happy to avoid. Forwarded messages coming in like advertorial, I was never certain how to respond to it I ended up not replying it. In fact, it has become my policy to reply only messages which are addressed personally to me, other types of message go straight to trash - after a week. There is also the missed-calling practice, which I never understood its imparted meaning. If the ringing doesn’t last to three, I usually ignore it. No, I do not use IMs to catch up on my distant cousins or long lost friends too. I would rather talk and call a visit. Although I was, at some point, hooked up to IM like it was my life line, blatantly pushing my keypad buttons in front of my clueless colleague or loved ones - leaving them talking to the empty void. After learning how rude and insensitive such practice was, I happily throw away my phone every time I am due to spend time with friends or family I had promised to.

So now, I am trying to manage my ICT tools with better efficiency. I scrolled through my contacts list, and realized 75% of it I no longer use (unsuccessful crushes included, shamefully), so I deleted all. I loathe the idea of creating a new email account, so I simply direct my subscription and notifications to one email account, and leave the other for friends and formal businesses. The former account might end up being opened once in a blue moon. As for my Friendster or Facebook account, I shall leave it as it is. My cowardice does not allow me to declare my fight against such social networks, I’m fighting a losing battle.

I am learning to use IM not as cover-ups for my intended insensitivities or reckless mistakes. The time I couldn’t spend with certain friends cannot be paid with a single SMS, the promises I’ve broken couldn’t be patched with a single SMS, and the amount of love and care I would like to shower to my family or friend will not be measured by how many love and kisses I send through IM - so does by my lack of sending it too. For now, I see IMs more as an aid for tangible things, not to satisfy my cloaked neuroticism or behaviour disorder, which I’ve learnt I could so easily get caught up in.

As for blogs, it is still addictive to check out other people’s blogs (aside of my own) every 2 hours. But given my current need to practice writing (I reduced the writing schedule to every 2 days, instead of having to finish the piece every night) - I keep my blog-hopping habit on radar, until the time dictates I put it completely on hold until midnight.

For those who feel afflicted with the same disease as me, for a start, I find a 10 + 2 x 5 tip provided by Merlin Mann of 43 Folders quite useful for day (mid-house chores) practice; set a timer of 10 minutes for a required task, allow 2 minutes for any side-cravings and repeat the process five times, we will get 50 productive minutes out of an hour work - which usually, obviously, is reversed.

Not taking things seriously

After my recent publicized winning trip to Germany caused havoc at the faculty several months ago – I was approached by several juniors asking me to give study tips for their programs. Luckily enough, I always had better things to do; sampling trip, balik kampung, etc. Freaking out of having to face strange faces while on stage is one thing, but what keeps me refusing the invitations was actually not having any tips to begin with.

Aware of my personal experiences on the importance of conformity to social conventions, I realized these invitations were called forth for me to reiterate the criteria appropriate and fitting for successful students; strategic time management, sincere intentions, good relationships with parents, teachers, and friends, and the likes.

Having said that, I realized, apparently not every Dean’s List students are qualified to give motivational talks – me for example. However, not having any ideas to write now – I think it’s time I reveal the strategies my friends and I adopted so far to manage being in the Dean’s Lists every semester until our final year. These strategies evolve as we grow older, and most importantly, wiser.

1. No Social Life, Please

My friends and I are familiar faces during Excellence Award or Dean’s List’s dinner every year. There’s no denying that. We were dubbed skema during our second year for always trotting around with our thick textbooks and serious faces running after one lecturer to another asking question. Not only that, we were also skema because we always wear the standard university attire every day, baju kurung. No trousers, no jeans, no skirts. We had no sense of fashion, or fun.

So that was why when my roommate asked what kept me glued to my desk every night studying, I answered: Because I had nothing else better to do (given my lack of social life). How pathetic is that.

1. Last Minute Study is the Best Policy

What, unbelievable? Cross your finger, I think many students would agree with me on this. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures, and revise again two hours after that when the night before was spent meeting for a program? Wait, that doesn’t apply to me. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures when the night before was spent teary-eyed reading a novel? Or what if I just couldn’t help myself from feeling bored out of my wit with the notes that does not make sense at all from 0 hour of the class? There’s no use concentrating when I know I wouldn’t get anything different if I just read the textbook later on (save for the truly great lecturers who knows how to do their works, of course).

Trust me sometimes life at the university is simply, a life. Forget all those idealism and aspiration of living in intelligentsia world or whatsoever. As much as I was frustrated, sometimes being a student CAN be reduced to mere survival for the next breath in the next day.

1. Know Thy Lecturers

Perhaps this one tip can be considered normal. But again, is normal equal to morally sound? Because here’s how my tip goes – have the same lecturer teaching you from Year 1 to Year 4, and all you need to do to score is to know his exam question patterns. Forget looking for extra information, forget thinking outside the box. All you need is the next time it’s test, you know this lecturer so much you can simply point out which part will come up in the exam and which part will not –because you already know his pattern. Information was cut into fragments, go into your brains selectively regardless of whether the information might be useful or not. All that matter is you can answer the exam questions.

Again, it’s the question of survival. Forget knowledge here.

1. People-Ogling and Caffeine is Good for Your Health

The key to my staying up until 4 a.m. at night finishing my home works? Combine the ultimate booster for students: caffeine, and for girls: cute lads. These days, every time I need to stay up late doing three works alternatively all at once, I would earlier drive to the nearest gas station where I often get my double dose of Nescafe, and where a tall guy with curly hair and cute smile would always greet me.

Enough said.

1. Finally, Stop Being a Perfectionist.

I dreamt of studying history and philosophy with an old, great, knowledgeable professor who would always provoke me to write my best essays and challenge my views – only to find myself in a class where the lecturer would settle with the slide presentation he himself could not understand. I envision myself working with fellow students for causes that matter –to be frowned upon by so many people to whom only power and authority matters. I picture students who can tolerate each other’s differences – but all I received and see is judgments without discussions. All of us are so caught up with telling the world who’s at fault and who’s to blame, we think we’re good enough.

Having all my dreams and ideals crushed, I settle to my study. I forget saving the world, I forget changing the world one thing at a time. All I can do, and I do best is study – get a 3.5 and above GPA’s every semester, so that later when I go out to the world – I would have one thing right to show off to people.

Yes, stop being a perfectionist and taking everything too seriously – what I write here this time is meant for people who can laugh at themselves. Let’s celebrate life and all its splendor… as well as everything that makes you pull your hair out.

OMG! He's getting married

A friend of mine recently got engaged, at 23 years of age – and he’s a guy. A bold move, I would definitely say. Because as I remembered the day he announced his decision to us, his closest circle of friends; I was at a loss for words. I dashed straight to the restroom to collect my breath as soon as I got the chance to go out. I didn’t know which surprised me more, his firm decision or my unexpected reaction to the revelation.

Shamefully, I think it’s the latter.

You see, he is one of a couple of guys I had the opportunity to befriend closely for the past 4 years at college. A long time definitely, but too long I forget the time I began to take him for granted as a friend. Too long, I always have a preconceived idea about him to which I base my decisions and judgments about him – an act simplified for me, but at times are unjust to him.

I remember the early days of my junior years, I was so obsessed with analyzing every guys in the faculty because I was so determined to find at least one gentleman to fit my depiction of a real guy. I grumbled as I see no guys offering to carry the laptop or LCD projector handled willingly by girls in the class. I complained as I watched guys in reality are too boys inside, never stopping to talk about games and anime. Not so much because I was desperate to find a beau, but at the back of my mind I was so driven to prove myself right to counter my disappointing experiences with the men of my family. I was trying to put my heart at rest, to promise myself there will be a lavish green field at the end of the rainbow. There are men whom I can trust to run the world.

So these two guys; about the only males in my batch, became the scale of my measurements. At first, getting to know them was exciting. I was thrilled to apply all those theories I read in the book and to compare their actions to the scenes I had come across in films. One is the ultimate Martian – the alpha male, and another is the guy everyone is always delighted to see. Ultimately, I was trying to put their pictures to my sketch of men. Perhaps these two can be friends, real friends.

However, as the time wears on, I learned all sides of their personality, both pleasing and frustrating. Expectations I can trust be fulfilled, and expectations I know are hopeless to even think about. I no longer tried to bring out the best in my two friends, because at times I admitted to myself it was simply stupid and tiring.

One time my decision was deemed digressing, we had a total clash of worldview. Until today, it was a decision silently understood – we are going on a completely different path. We never spoke about it again. Another time I was scolded coldly for a totally inadvertent mistake, never I gain I dared to get near his prickly receptors. I navigate my ways around it, accommodating wherever I can. It was not about proving who’s right or who should change anymore – we have become a family. We accept each other as we are, but sadly, we expect no more either. We looked through each other as we do a glass, so transparent there are no questions asked anymore. We neither surprises nor disappoint one another, we only get by our lives – day in and day out without trying to understand any longer, because we thought we had enough to understand everything.

For instance, as my alpha friend grows popular after he was elected president, every one at the faculty seems to have discovered a gem. His combination of chivalry and aloofness appeared so irresistible to girls he is being talked about in every room. I had fun observing these, of course. But I also made a cruel remark about him pertaining to the issue, I remember saying coolly his kindness is magnified only because he rarely displays it. As for other people who do these things naturally, similar act of kindness are often go by unnoticed and taken for granted. Perhaps I was right, and I could be wrong too – but I didn’t care to know. Because all that is etched in my mind is his nasty mood and insensitive self.

At the same time, I was growing up too. I had become stronger and more independent; there are things I couldn’t do before I am capable to manage now. I am reaching out farther away. Before I realized it, I was trying to repeat the same cycle I had started before, looking for greener pastures. My friends become a shadow in the background, I forgot the simple fact – their mere presence actually confirms my existence of who I am now.

So as my friend announced his engagement, I was choked with surprise; happiness or sadness I was uncertain. I questioned his action by doubting him, as I would always do based on my database of his demeanors. Afterwards, I tried to understand his decision by sieving through our pictures at being friends together for a nearly 5 years, and I was surprised at how big an influence these two friends are to me. Looking back now, he caused me a suddenly painful realization. He is – as much as I am – a human being, capable of making choices which will make him a better person or not. However, as he has proven it, my friend chose to live for a greater cause, to take up a responsibility which will determine the course of his life at so early age – even too early for me as a girl. Therefore I think I owe him one: my friend, you’re the man.