Memoirs of a Broken Heart

Chapter 1 – The Younger Years

BRUNEI – I was born late 1970s to a poor family. My late grandparents were farmers whose hardship taught their children how to appreciate hard work in order to survive. My father started as an office boy with a wage of less than $300, I bet $300 was a lot those days though. Throughout the years, he scaled one jumping stone to another to get to where he was until his retirement, working and studying regardless of day or time. Our lives slowly improved, from a hut in the middle of a paddy field, to a decent government flat and to a self owned house, all from the blood and sweat of my parents.

Still, us, the children, never forget all the hardship during our younger days. Those days we can’t afford too much of pleasure. My mum would scold me if I asked for a toy, unlike my 17 year sister Sab who basically gets what she wanted without much questions. Of course I’m not putting any comparison between me and my only sister, it’s just that things are better nowadays. Yet I am glad Sab knows how to appreciate and at time looks at herself, wondering whether she was a spoilt brat or not. But I guess she is! Huhu

Schooldays was glorious, especially during the senior year where we had the whole school to bully. Our bully were non violent, no typical junior fight picking or beating up. In fact we’d rather pull some pranks amongst ourselves. Hide each other’s bag in the shrubs, sneak laboratory apparatus into pencil cases, abscond least favoured classes or throw each other into the fish pond.

Love and relationship was a less priority those days. But it does not stop us from having crushes with some junior girls, most of them were unsuccessful. My first crush was Azy, a pretty junior girl in the karate class. She prefers good looking guys and since I am not what one can hall handsome, hence I am way down in her Top 50 list. Being one of the most prettiest girl in school, no boy would deny her. Of course, she had her shares of puppy love, sometime seen walking with one of the good looking guys in school.

Yet, I had the courage to come to her and tell her that I like her. Just like I always did when I have a crush on a girl. Azy just smiled, I know she was so used to hear those puppy talks from guys. And I did not expect for any positive outcome from her anyway. We remained friends though, as time passed by, I can’t help getting jealous seeing her with other guys. As we grew, the feeling grew too. I guess it’s my teenage instinct.

Sometimes it’s funny if we look back, at such a young age when we think we are ripe enough to make our decision, and how hasty and foolish were those decisions. When I look back, I don’t even know if I can call it First Love, but what I know it was a college crush, a puppy love. But yea, I did that hasty and foolish thing. I bumped into her before karate class. She was already in her outfit. I approached her, like always she gave me a smile.

I greeted her and then the words just blurted out of my mouth.

“Azy, I’m in love with you.”

Her smile turned sour. Like a flash of lightning, a felt a sharp and quick blow on my stomach. I crouched to the ground and I could hardly breathe. Amidst the pain, I saw Azy walking away from my sight. Apparently and somehow, she was so pissed with my statement for some reasons and gave me kick on my stomach. Curious onlookers just watched while I tried to get up. Even before I knew it, I can only see watery visions through my eyes and my chest felt so heavy bearing the physical pain of the kick, not to mention the emotional damage I felt for the very first time in my life.

There. The first crack in my heart. At a point that day, I vowed not to see Azy again, because I know it will hurt me even more apart from the humiliation. I avoided the routes we always crossed. I never came to gym anymore so I won’t meet the karate class. After the final exams, I never came to school anymore. I have said my goodbye to my ECAs since that incident. Life has to go on without Azy. After all I thought it was just school love story. I had to put Azy behind my head from then on.

So yea, I moved forward. Over the years, I spent most of it in UK and the Middle East and picked a career. I never heard of Azy anymore. When I returned to Brunei, I totally had forgotten about her when I found a Hari Raya card in my room. Well, those days SMS were still unheard of. I opened the letter and much to my shock, it was from Azy.  I was too overwhelmed with shock that I rather not think of how on God’s green earth she managed to get my address.

She wrote a long apology letter, remorseful for the physical assault she made just because I said what I said and that she didn’t mean to hurt me in any way. She also left her address hoping that I would come to her house on Hari Raya in case I’m back in Brunei.

Oh well. I already forgave her the moment she kicked me.

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