Mother and Son by Robert Duncan


The thing about being alone is that you get plenty of time to think about yourself.
And having this alone time away from my boyfriend, allowed me to think about me.
I've been thinking about my life so far. There has been a strange continuous cycle with the way things turn out for me.
It's largely my fault, and partly due to my surroundings.
I have been clinging on to people my whole life only to be separated from them later on. And after that happens, I close myself up to people.
It happened when I was a kid. I was super close to my mother and elder sister. With Mummy particularly, because I was close to her , and vice versa she had always spoiled me.

There were aunties from my mom's workplace who said "suka duduk bawah ketiak mak" when they referred to me
But I grew out of that closeness with Mummy during puberty.

I had worshipped my mother as geeky kid growing up. She was a respected matron at the hospital and I wanted to emulate her. But as I grew older I slowly realised thst I couldn't relate to her as a guy. More so as an effeminate geeky boy trying to find his identity. As a teenager, I experienced all those physical and emotional changes that I could not find in common with Mummy.
I started to hate my effeminate self and concluded that hey, my softie behaviour might be caused by my closeness to Mummy and Big sister.
So I curled up inside my own shell and talked less and less with my mother, thinking that I should be avoiding any womanly influences to be more well, macho.
For instance, if at 10 years I'd confide with mum about my fears on being appointed a school prefect, by 18 I would barely speak to her about anything that resembled feelings.

I had consiously decided to stay away from Mum and it was on my own doing.

By the age of 18, loneliness set in as I had no male role models to replace my mum. The men in my family were distant and timid. My dad and elder brother were always overshadowed in terms of outspokenness and overall coolness when compared to Mummy and Sister.


When I was about to turn 20, Mum tried to rekindle that mother-son relationship of my childhood. "You can tell me about things, you know," Mummy told me one day while we were talking about my habit of running back home every weekend just to get away from campus.
Of course, I did not know what to reply to mum's statement and remained silent.
Again, I remained quiet when Mum asked me if I was gay, a year or so later.
But for THAT question, I tactfully answered "No" out of shock that Mum was even asking such a question.

My mum was my first close relationship. Nowadays I try to appease Mummy by being there for her. But we still don't share our feelings as spontaneously as we did when I was a little kid.

When I was 24 and working for this newspaper, I dated this guy named Dan, who ran his own graphic designing company. Typically, our relationship was hot and heavy in the beginning but later it fizzled out. He began ignoring me after a month or so into the relationship.
I guess I tend to be clingy to people that I like. I don't know why. I'm an intense person and I give my full attention when I talk to people- constant eye contact and all.
I never knew what was the real reason for my falling apart with Dan, but all I know is that he's now married and has two kids. When we broke up, I did a crazy thing. I barged into his office during working hours and confronted him. I didn't talk to him about our relationship but instead made small talk. All the while I was trying very hard to suppress my tears. I was out of his office in five minutes, I think. I'm such a drama queen. I just needed to see him and try to pester him for the truth. Commmunication. A sign. Anything.
But Dan remained quiet and could only say that he was shocked to see me at his office.

That incident with Dan is almost similar to what I'm going through with my current lover, Number Three.

Last night, I stalked Number Three outside his apartment. I waited in my car waiting. It was around 9.30pm. He hadn't been replying my text messages. I found out later that he was asleep and that his apartment had undergone renovations. And it hit me: This is all too familiar territory.

And no, I suppose my current boyfriend is not my first love, come to think of it. I'm sure love (or extreme infatuation/obsession) must have been the reason I barged into Dan's office five years ago.

I keep telling friends that Number Three is my first real relationship. It wasn't. It may be the first which has lasted a few months, but it wasn't my first. I'm quite absent minded when it comes to painful memories.

But all of this analysing of history, all the loving people, staying away and then later clamming up to love - well- they have always been typical cycles during my 29 years of existence.