Such Irony
Apparently conversations have been made about my love life, or lack thereof. From friends to colleagues to acquaintances even to my immediate family. Some took the polite route by talking about it in front of my face, downplaying their incorrigibly relentless nosiness by masking the inquiry with watered down concern and barely-there sympathy. After debating with my best personal therapist (i.e. myself) I have realised that there is no easy method of discussing about my love life. This isn't to say point blank curiosity is unwelcome because at least the inquirer has honour and guts, however I would have preferred if other people would actually move on from their obsession with what went wrong with my past relationship and why it didn't work. Because, really, it has been three years since the breakup. A lifetime of weeks ago. A lifetime of endless yapping with my loved ones, movie nights with my baby brother, cafe hopping with my friends, sleepovers with my favourite people, rea...
