Spent the weekend packing, throwing things out, and moving things over to my new abode.
Packing- filling a bag or suitcase with stuff is not that hard. The necessary tidy-up that precedes packing is the hardest bit. Have to be decisive and ruthless when it comes to getting rid of things that I haven't used for at least a year.
I am a borderline hoarder. I like to keep stuff, because just in case / who knows one day I might miss this, or need that.
My pathology test results, x-ray films, undergrad course notes, vocabulary notebooks since high school that I had brought with from Malaysia, a Nokia cell phone (just in case I might need it for camping one day), my first smartphone, graphic calculator from Year 12, a few Casio calculators, key rings/souvenirs given to me by my family which I have never used, boarding passes from the first trip with Jay, the letters he wrote me, books that I brought with 6 years ago, piano scores for some church hymns that I used to play when I felt stressed or homesick, bank cards that have already expired, etc.
Jay was the one who helped me moved in mid 2014. He was ruthless when it came to throwing things out. My pair of remote controlled helicopters that my first bf bought. The clothes that my first bf bought me/left behind. I still don't know if it was intentionally done. But probably Jay didn't know whose clothes were those that he threw out.
I actually still have a few clothes that would remind me of the first bf. One, was my favourite t-shirt from ZARA, I would wear it all the time. Another one was a short-sleeve shirt he bought me in Orchard before we broke up. I made sure that I put them in a plastic bag labeled 'for donation' this time. Perhaps it's time they get chucked away. It's not like I still wear them or look at them regularly.
Tidying up, something that I rarely do, is actually quite therapeutic. I have no choice but to confront "myself" with the things I actually own, that I try to avoid looking at day to day. Things that I might have forgotten about.
The birthday card that Jay made for me and sent to me before we were officially together. I was still working on my thesis, a few weeks prior to submission. There was a mail for me one morning, and it was a birthday card for me! I am not a birthday-type person, and I didn't tell him my birthday. He only knew it's June. Then there was the 'card' he made me for Valentine's last year, our first Valentine's. Enclosed were the 'coupons' he made- "no argument regardless of how unreasonable you are", "free body massage for xx minutes", etc. I haven't used any of them, and they have actually expired.
I glanced around my room thinking about the best strategy to move my stuff over. There, to my right, are two shelving units from IKEA that Jay had assembled over the last 18 months. Outside, at the balcony, is a drying rack from IKEA that I assembled myself, but it was one of the first things that we bought together at IKEA. There was a "vision" for my current place. It was meant to be our new love nest. A place where I imagined would host serious humping marathons. We were also talking about getting a Japanese style "table" so that we could sit on the floor like the Japanese and have meals, or simply enjoy each other's company happily, harmoniously.
The visions we had for this place were never quite realised. He complained about the lack of sex. We never sat on the floor because of my OCD with hygiene. The room is simply too small, and to make way I often have to push the bed back up against the wall.
Jay even helped trimmed the shower curtain we got from IKEA. I wanted to keep the shower curtain clean, and treasure it but there was simply no way of getting rid of the disgusting algae or fungi on it. It has this yellowish or brownish "stain". Over time, we simply got rid of the old ones and purchased new ones.
It was hard to shower together. The yucky shower curtain gets 'blown in' towards the shower compartment when one showers. If both of us are showering together, it is almost inevitable to accidentally touch the shower curtain. It's disgusting. You don't want to accidentally bump into the walls too because there are smudges of dried up soap suds on them too. One has to be very careful when showering. It caused stress. It eliminated the opportunities to get romantic.
As the room is cramped, and due to the position of the bed, it's hard to engage in certain positions. An example would be the doggy style, when one kneels on the edge of the bed, and the other standing on the floor. Or the missionary, carried out in a similar way.
There is no sofa in my current place. When Jay was here, it would be best to just put the bed down and lie on it. The main non-sexual activity on the bed/in the room would be TV. The only other thing I can think of, was the time we completed a puzzle that we got from Studio Ghibli in Tokyo.
Packing- filling a bag or suitcase with stuff is not that hard. The necessary tidy-up that precedes packing is the hardest bit. Have to be decisive and ruthless when it comes to getting rid of things that I haven't used for at least a year.
I am a borderline hoarder. I like to keep stuff, because just in case / who knows one day I might miss this, or need that.
My pathology test results, x-ray films, undergrad course notes, vocabulary notebooks since high school that I had brought with from Malaysia, a Nokia cell phone (just in case I might need it for camping one day), my first smartphone, graphic calculator from Year 12, a few Casio calculators, key rings/souvenirs given to me by my family which I have never used, boarding passes from the first trip with Jay, the letters he wrote me, books that I brought with 6 years ago, piano scores for some church hymns that I used to play when I felt stressed or homesick, bank cards that have already expired, etc.
Jay was the one who helped me moved in mid 2014. He was ruthless when it came to throwing things out. My pair of remote controlled helicopters that my first bf bought. The clothes that my first bf bought me/left behind. I still don't know if it was intentionally done. But probably Jay didn't know whose clothes were those that he threw out.
I actually still have a few clothes that would remind me of the first bf. One, was my favourite t-shirt from ZARA, I would wear it all the time. Another one was a short-sleeve shirt he bought me in Orchard before we broke up. I made sure that I put them in a plastic bag labeled 'for donation' this time. Perhaps it's time they get chucked away. It's not like I still wear them or look at them regularly.
Tidying up, something that I rarely do, is actually quite therapeutic. I have no choice but to confront "myself" with the things I actually own, that I try to avoid looking at day to day. Things that I might have forgotten about.
The birthday card that Jay made for me and sent to me before we were officially together. I was still working on my thesis, a few weeks prior to submission. There was a mail for me one morning, and it was a birthday card for me! I am not a birthday-type person, and I didn't tell him my birthday. He only knew it's June. Then there was the 'card' he made me for Valentine's last year, our first Valentine's. Enclosed were the 'coupons' he made- "no argument regardless of how unreasonable you are", "free body massage for xx minutes", etc. I haven't used any of them, and they have actually expired.
I glanced around my room thinking about the best strategy to move my stuff over. There, to my right, are two shelving units from IKEA that Jay had assembled over the last 18 months. Outside, at the balcony, is a drying rack from IKEA that I assembled myself, but it was one of the first things that we bought together at IKEA. There was a "vision" for my current place. It was meant to be our new love nest. A place where I imagined would host serious humping marathons. We were also talking about getting a Japanese style "table" so that we could sit on the floor like the Japanese and have meals, or simply enjoy each other's company happily, harmoniously.
The visions we had for this place were never quite realised. He complained about the lack of sex. We never sat on the floor because of my OCD with hygiene. The room is simply too small, and to make way I often have to push the bed back up against the wall.
Jay even helped trimmed the shower curtain we got from IKEA. I wanted to keep the shower curtain clean, and treasure it but there was simply no way of getting rid of the disgusting algae or fungi on it. It has this yellowish or brownish "stain". Over time, we simply got rid of the old ones and purchased new ones.
It was hard to shower together. The yucky shower curtain gets 'blown in' towards the shower compartment when one showers. If both of us are showering together, it is almost inevitable to accidentally touch the shower curtain. It's disgusting. You don't want to accidentally bump into the walls too because there are smudges of dried up soap suds on them too. One has to be very careful when showering. It caused stress. It eliminated the opportunities to get romantic.
As the room is cramped, and due to the position of the bed, it's hard to engage in certain positions. An example would be the doggy style, when one kneels on the edge of the bed, and the other standing on the floor. Or the missionary, carried out in a similar way.
There is no sofa in my current place. When Jay was here, it would be best to just put the bed down and lie on it. The main non-sexual activity on the bed/in the room would be TV. The only other thing I can think of, was the time we completed a puzzle that we got from Studio Ghibli in Tokyo.
Yeah, OCD can kill much of the spontaneity in sex.
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