Three heartbreaks

In my early adult years, there were 3 things that had happened (well, so far only three)...that broke my heart.

The first was in Australia, when I went over to Melbourne to do my final year in uni, and I got my heart broken by someone I trusted and cared for deeply.

St.Kilda's beach, Melb

Ackshually...to say that my heart was broken is a bit of an understatement, it felt more like being hit by a train that I never saw coming. It came and it knocked the living daylights out of me....and I was left there half-alive and broken all over.

Its sad that it had to happen when I was in such a beautiful city, and it was so excruciating to deal with it alone...far away from family, close friends..and yes, cat.

What ensued was a tough couple of weeks after, I carried around with me a sick feeling in my stomach and a huge lump in my throat. But eventually, I came back to my senses...got up and moved on.

Frankly, I don't remember much about it anymore, it seems kinda fuzzy now to me...despite that it was only a couple of years back. I guess it hurt so bad until my sub-conscious intentionally bleeped it out of my life.

But anyway, I've left that behind me now so lets not go back there.

The second major cause of my heartache was when I lost my car back in 2007, just before Christmas...which was a real bummer.

Losing my car is somewhat hard to concoct, I mean..it was after all...a 12-year Wira, with dents and paint chipped off from here and there...and I parked it in a legitimate, non-dodgy parking lot. So you could imagine my disbelief upon returning from work to find that my car wasn't at where I left it.

Coming to terms that my car got stolen was difficult, but the other half of the heartache was contributed by my parents, mostly by my father, who chose to think that it was my fault that the car was stolen and tried to find all sorts of reasons to pin it on me.

Its as if had I told him 'Yes dad, I moronically left the car unlocked with the keys in the ignition!'...only would he be satisfied upon solving the mystery of why the car went missing.

My parents are pretty darn awful at being empathic, to a point where I'd keep from them whatever misfortunes that I may stumble upon due to their apathy and their ability to make things worse than they already are with their harsh, emotionless words.

So much so that a light pat on the back, and a simple 'its gonna be okay' seems impossible for them.

When I was in primary school, I remember my dad screaming at my sister over a small accident she got into while picking me up from tuition. Aside from a broken side indicator lamp on the driver's side and a mild dent, there wasn't much to justify the screaming over, frankly.

I grew up knowing that no matter how small the damage, there would never be much sympathy anyway.
It would always be as if you did it on purpose, and never an accident.

The third most heartbreaking incident happened just recently when I banged up my brand new Lagi Best while coming out of a parking lot because I didn't see the short metal tiang that was on my right.

Moronic of myself? Yes.
Intentional? Hell no. Why would someone willingly damage their car? Not unless I'm Lindsay Lohan and I'm pissed drunk (and probably high) enough to crash my car and not care.

It is both heartbreaking and WTF to hit your car, especially if it was an error of judgement on your part, which could have been avoided all together had I just been more careful.

But as it is with life, shit just happens anyway. And I guess no matter how bad you bang your car up, and no matter how scared it leaves you, you'll eventually come to terms with it..and realize that whatever damage that is incurred to your car is purely material...and it can be replaced.

What matters is worse things that could have happened didn't happen, and at the most you would endure is a deficit in your bank acc.

Now if only more of us could realize that, there would be less screaming at kids, spouses, friends...and overall, happier people :)

-@p-