Saturday, August 20, 2016

This recent talks reminded me of an old flame. Someone whom I shouldn't forget, but did.

Hi.

I've had a new friend, someone whom I just knew recently. And he (yes, it is a he) had quite the same experience that I had back in 2010. He lost the love of her life in an automobile accident in 2013, and he had a hard time letting her go. But the way he talks about her made you think everything is cute and happy, as if she was still alive. That, for me, is his own subconscious way of telling me that his heart isn't ready for another person. But for me, talking about it helps. Mind you, in 2010, I did experience a similar thing, but the thing is, I did not lost my old flame in an accident. I lost him by cancer. That evil thing, cancer is.

So, when he talked about his beloved, my brain suddenly pull me back to December 2009, when he told me that he was diagnosed with cancer. I cried. Of course. I swore I will never leave him. But I was studying in University at that time. So I did not visit him, but kept on giving him hope that I will come to him when I can (spoiler alert, I didn't get a chance to see him for the last time, so the last memory I had of him was he had this full hair and had beautiful broad smiles). When he (my friend) talked about her present to him, I remembered his jersey, the jersey he hated because the numbering was ugly, that he gave to me. I always wore it whenever I missed him, during the early days of his death, but now, It was at the bottom of my dresser, always available to me whenever I felt like I wanted to see his name, convincing me that he actually existed and had once loved me before his death.

My friend told me how happy his beloved was before her death.

I cannot say so myself.
Because few hours before he succumbed into coma, we had a fight. I had an exam on that very day and he called me at around three in the morning demanded to talk. Telling me he may not have a lot of time.
I told him (this is all fresh in my head) that he will still have a lot of time, stop being a drama king and let me sleep. I need sleep because I had exam in the morning.
He apologized, but still demanded for me to hear whatever he wanted to tell me.
I was mad. I don't like anyone disturbing my sleep, so I told him to stop saying things like that, that he would have a lot of time in the world, and that he should let me sleep. I promised I will call before my exam start, if I have time. But I said it all too rudely, because - in my defense - we're having the fights of our life.
Little did I know that it was my last fight with him, and those were the last words I uttered to him. I uttered my final words to him rudely.
And he hung up after telling me he will miss me.

Right after I had my exam, I called him. No answers. It was always the case with him. He will put his phone in a cupboard and will miss my calls. That's typical, so I was not alarmed by it. I did not know he was already in a comatose state, and that it was the last forty eight hours of his life.

I did not receive his calls anymore after that. Weirdly enough, I did not worry for him. I felt as though he was busy with stuffs that he had forgotten to call me. I did not search for him, because I was ego. We just had fights. I dont want to be the one to call him and apologize. So I waited.

On early hours of 12 March 2010, his phone called me. I was elated. At last, he called. I'm going to hear his voice. So I answered. It was a woman's voice. It was a voice I knew. It was his mother's voice. I was confused. Why did his mother called me using his phone?
That's when his mother told me that he had died only minutes prior.

My heart broke.
I was so shock I do not know if I should cry. I do not know what I should do. I sat on my bed, waiting for the feelings to kick in. It did not, yet. His mother was crying at the end of the line, telling me about his last hours, of how, before his coma, he begged his mother to deliver to me his dying wish.
I heard his wish and vowed to do it. But still, I was not overcome by feelings like his mother. It has not yet kicked in.

Then, as it was Friday, came the last day of class. I went to class with my friend. And she was the first to know about him. I told my friend - he died this morning.
Her reaction when she heard of my late boyfriend was everything. She asked me to repeat myself. That is when the feeling kicked in. I repeated, but my voice broke. I started to cry. That was when it was apparent to me that I will never see him again. I will not get a chance to go and see him, alive, standing in front of me with his black sporty attire, ever again. I will never get a chance to see his smile, live, anymore. His smile exists only in pictures, and in my mind now. He was then became a memory, of someone who had lived in this world, and someone who had left me alone.

That was when I realized the world has one less person to love, and had less laughter as he was the funniest man alive that I knew. He will not return, he will never be there for me when I need him anymore.

And even though my friend said I should go back to my dorm rather than going to class and endure five hours of boring lectures, I told her no. I knew he would want me to continue my life like it is, while bearing his memory with me wherever I go.
I was in denial. I thought I was okay. But I was not.
I cried in class. Ever and Ever again.
Then, the anger strikes in. I blamed everyone about his passing. I blamed his parents for not foresee his illness. I blamed him for going for medical checkup. I blamed his doctors for diagnosing him with cancer, and not try everything in their power to fix him. And I blamed the God, for taking him too soon. He was just twenty years old, few months shy of his twenty first birthday.

So the talks with my friend sort of reminded me. Then I realized that my recent relationship with my latest ex boyfriend was nothing like when I was with him. I, sort of, with my latest ex, went with the flow, and when my mother told me no, that the relationship cannot happen, I accepted it with open arms. Probably because I did not have strong feelings for him. Probably because my heart wasnt fully open. But I was open to the idea of marrying him. Just, maybe not placing my entire heart and feelings onto him, because in my heart, I still place my late boyfriend at the front most of my heart, unable to let go fully. Not yet. Because some of the memories are impossible to let go. And I came to accept the fact that I maybe need more time.

Then, I came to realize, after the talks, that my heart was actually swaying onto this other man. Of course, my heart had yet to release my late boyfriend, but somehow I felt at ease and bliss with this other man. It was as if telling me that it is time to indulge myself in another relationship, a true one, unlike what I had with my latest ex. It was as if telling me my heart is ready to be filled again, unlike when I was with my latest ex, when he asked me to be his girlfriend I just nod without significant feelings. But this time is different. I had feelings, but I was not sure.

Whatever it is, I hope my late boyfriend found peace, and that he is happy there next to his maker.
I always pray for his wellbeing, and I hope he looked down upon me, and felt proud of who I became.

Thanks RU for every memories we shared.
I will always treasure our memories and It will always be with me.
I promise you I will tell my children (if I had any) about you.
And lend me your strength to finish my book that I had planned,
the one about you and the girl you met in the hospital.
Hopefully both of you had found peace.

Thanks for spending,  even though brief, time in my life.
Thanks for being there.
Thanks for existing.
Thanks for making me happy, even though it was just for a short while.

RU and NEM
Always in our memories
1989-2010
1990-2010

Sunday, June 5, 2016

My very first Review of my very first book!

First of all, for those who had a copy of my book in their possession, I would like to say Thank you very much (spasiba - sorry I couldnt write it in cyrillic, I do not have cyrillic keyboard near me right now) for your support and I really hope you will enjoy reading my book, as it is my first. For those who had finish reading my book, I would appreciate it if you write your sincerest review in Goodreads so that I will be aware of the negative and positive aspects in my first book. So that I will not repeat the negatives in my second book, and enhance the positives.

You know how it is about reviews, right?

So I've received the very first review of my book from a fellow novelist. Oh thank you very much for your kind review! It made me pumped up. It's like i'm one of the hyperactive kids given sugar when I've read the review. I was like, so very excited.

Here is the review from hte fellow novelist. As I havent asked her permission (yep, the reviewer is a her) to share her review, so please understand why I scribbled off her name. (I should've gotten her permission first, huh? But I'm writing this at 12.49, so I doubt that she's still awake, so let me just post this first...okay....)


For those who would like to submit their review to me and not via goodreads you can do so by contacting me via facebook or my email address as written at the back of my books. Please note that I am not active on facebook and that I cannot view messenger's messaging invitation through PC and please be patient that I may not read your text as soon as you posted them. Unless you texted me through FB messages and not through messenger. I dont know how it is because I am a little confused of FB messenger. I dont know why the invitation to message via messenger cannot be viewed through facebook's messages.

Anyway, for those who had a copy of my book, read and give reviews yeah? They're very important...Heeeee

If you do not have a copy of my book yet and you're interested to buy one please go to Jemari Seni website and buy it from there. I am not sure if the bookstores already had copies of my books yet, but, I hope they do!

Till next time,

Happy Ramadhan!

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Today is supposed to be Her 27th Birthday

Diyana Azmina Mustafa Kamal was my roommate during our National Service days. She's kind, helpful and when I'm in raw with other roomates (Yep, I was that kind of person) she will be standing in the middle being the middle voice and voice of reason. She's nice that way, she's a good person. And like they said, the good die young.

She died nearly 5 years ago in 2011. Her death was caused by something about her colon - I am not really sure. And I knew about her death on her birthday two years later. And talk about guilt - I am feeling guilty to this day that I did not wish for her health and did not pray for her when she was sick. I did not know that she was sick. And when I did knew of her death, I spent hours praying for her. Not that I want to say I'm a good friend, but she is...was. And I was just compensating the loss of a good friend who's taken too early from this world.

And today is supposed to be her 27th birthday.

And I still feel guilty to this day.

Diyana Azmina, I know you wouldn't read this. Why would you when I've been a horrible friend?
But I hope that you forgive me for not knowing of your death and not praying for you for two years before I knew.

Al-Fatihah.
Diyana Azmina Mustafa Kamal
1989-2011

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Anthology "Helo"

There's an offer for those who can write in Malay, for an Anthology book entitled "Helo".
For those who's interested to write a short story based on the word Helo (Whatever you wanted to write about, about phone calls, about greetings, about two people meeting for the first time after being pen pals for so long, or about the last name "hello"), you can learn about it more in JS Adiwarna facebook page!

I, on the other hand, couldnt write in Malay, but of course, one day I will try.
Nobody could understand the hardness for me to write in Malay, being a Malaysian and all, but Malay isnt my first language. It wasnt even my second language! It's my third language. So, no. My grammar in Malay is worst than my English, if you think that my English grammar is bad (in which I think so too).

I am pretty much interested to write something about Hello, but as I cannot write in Malay, I thought that it might be best that I used some of the ideas I have right now to add a few missing things in my new novels.

I'm planning to integrate some of the other languages that I've known in my new book. Probably Thai, or even Russian. But as I've had a chechen character in my first novel, It is very unlikely that I'll write of a Russian character in my second novel. Probably in my third or fourth novel, god's willing.

Anyway, about the anthology Hello, I wish everyone who participated in it good luck.

There is one thing that's certain.
I cant wait to read the book!

Saturday, May 14, 2016

I think my muse left me right after I published my first novel.

Being an author, a published author that is, is what I really dreamed of since I was very young. Writing is just a hobby for me back then, but I have high hopes of being an author, that someday I will publish my book and have my name written at the bottom of the books.

Yep, high hope it is.

Now, my first book had been published....Released during 2016 PBAKL. My very first baby. The book that I've start written in 2012, finally completed in 2014. The book that my friends decided to send the manuscript on my behalf. The book that was finally accepted after my other manuscript was rejected. And I was overwhelmed.

Maybe that feeling had yet to leave me that every books I have written after that, every pages of it, seemed not to my expectation. I didnt feel the words I've written. I didn't get the vibes I was hoping for on every pages. I've reread all my books after I decided to publish my first book, the Terrorist's wife.

What's the meaning of this? Somehow I felt as if a part of me is empty. I cannot write anymore. I cannot express my views like I did before publishing my book. Why is it happening? All those scenarios I had, that I had imagined, that was desperately needed to be written - I've written it, pages after pages...and when I reread it, the feeling isnt there. I cannot do it anymore. The words I've used did not seem to bend into my will in order to convey what I wanted the story to feel like. When it was supposed to be sad, somehow, the words I've used seemed happy and cute. When I wanted to describe love, suddenly I've described sadness and longing.

Seriously, what is happening to me?

Is this what they said as a first-time author jinx?

Or has my muse left me?

Oh muse, return to me please, I need you so very much!

____________________________________________


Anyway for those of you who wanted to read my first book, the early chapters of The Terrorist's wife, you can do so by clicking here and follow the links.

If you want to read more of it after reading the early chapters, please do buy my books - online, starting June 2016! If you want an autograph-ed version, do tell me and I will try to arrange it with the publisher before sending to to you. ^^

And if you already bought my books, Thank you very much!!! I really appreciate it. Thanks for your support. If you enjoyed or did not enjoy my book, please write a review on my goodreads page. Click the picture of my book for direct link to the goodreads page:



Thank you very much for reading my ramblings today.
Come again and visit me!

Yours,
Fifi Y Phillipps