I am not a perfectionist

I haven't replied the lawyer since he mailed me the HDB documents in September.

I don't know what I should do. Indeed, the key word is 'should'.

Sometimes I ask myself if I am asking for too much. I have always tried to avoid being perfectionistic, ever since my father once commented that perfectionists are most hateful because they give the rest of the world a lot of trouble just to convenient themselves.

I tell myself that marriages are not perfect, like the one I am in. It's not perfect. In fact, to me, it's far from perfect. It is not even on the scale in the first place.

I ask myself if the perfectionist in me is acting up again.

But sometimes, I tell myself that the most important thing is that Baby is happy.

But I don't think I am happy. Not at all.

Not a day passes without me thinking whether I should divorce. Then I question if I am being perfectionistic, and I leave it at that. Only someone who has gone through this could understand what struggle this is.

The ROM cert is still with the lawyer. I tell myself that if I want to call it off, then I should go and get it back from him. But I haven't done that.

I don't really want to get it back.

Because half of me really want a divorce.

A marriage has so many little things that irate me.

Do you know that we are married for five years, and NOT ONCE has he observed the wedding anniversary?

I hate it when I see people mentioning on facebook that they are going into the first, or second, or third, or ninth, or seventeenth anniversary on when and when. And how they are going to celebrate it. Each time I see it, it reminds me so painfully that I have a no-good husband who probably doesn't even remember the date of our wedding, from the very first year.

It is very painful for me, to say the least.

I hate to admit it - I really do - that I am a perfectionist. My supervisor tells me that I am, my friends tell me that I am, and even a reader tells me that I am. I try to ignore being called a perfectionist, but in this aspect, I am a perfectionist. Aren't all women?

I would love to watch the movie Eat, Pray, Love. I would love to watch Rapunzal. I would love to watch The Little Fockers. But no.

Before I get to watch them, they are taken down.

I tell myself that these things don't matter. They are trivial.

But yet, it matters to me. Very much.

It's not the movies. It's the sudden realisation that I don't have a companion even though I am married.

This marriage has given me nothing except tears. Each time I type about my pathetic marriage, tears flow. And it's not tears of thankfulness or gratitude, or being moved.

It is with regrets that I am married. A lot of regrets.

When I see Baby, I wonder if my heart is hard enough to see her puzzled why her family is different from others', like Coco when she was young.

It's like going through an operation. The first time - it's painful, but because you went in without knowing what to expect, you went through it anyway. The second time you are told you need an operation - you are more hesitant.

Of course, I know that I have no lack of movie companion only if I send an sms.

But I ask myself if this is truly the kinda life I have to lead, or want to lead, that my companion in real life is different from the one in name?

But can he be my companion ever again? I ask myself.

I search within myself and feel that everything is never the same again starting from the day he took the kids' red packet money and my dowry.

To date, he has not redeemed my dowry. That tells me how repentant he is.

To him, it's just a pair of bangles in exchange for money. Finished. Period.

I really should adopt the same attitude. For some reason, it doesn't feel as painful when I see it that way. And of course, the same attitude applies to the marriage - it's just a legal procedure.

Where this marriage is concerned, I am stoic.

If I ever get out of this marriage, I will probably never marry again.

I tell myself that he has some redeeming points, like he buys the rather expensive rice milk for me.

...

But he has some irredeemable habits, like he loves to quarrel with me on the streets, in the shopping mall, on the train, in the bus, in the shops.

He promised never to quarrel in front of strangers or in public after we married, because we would have a house to go back to to thrash things out.

No.

The drama king in him wants to let it all out in public, even in the presence of the kids. Let the public see what kinda stupid wife he's got.

I hate this. He has no idea how much I hate fighting on the streets. I saw my father did this to my mother when I was young and I told myself I would never marry a man like that. He has no idea how embarrassing it is to quarrel on the streets. Yes I tell you - he has NO idea, for the simple reason that he has no shame. For a man who cheats an old man in his nineties, how much shame does he have in him?

This alone, should qualify a divorce.

He fights with me in front of the kids. I told myself that my marriage will be one that will maintain peace in front of the children, no matter how bad it is. No. It doesn't matter to him if the fights and quarrels leave a psychological scar on the kids. Because he is plain selfish. He only thinks of himself.

This alone, too, qualifies for a divorce.

Let's see how low I get for a woman's expectation of a marriage:
1) He hasn't hit me.
2) He buys milk powder and diapers for Baby.
3) He pays the utility bills and internet bill, after we receive letters of threat to cut off the supply and I hound after him to go pay.

For someone who is supposedly a perfectionist, isn't this list a mockery at her 'perfectionism'? I can only say that I am not a perfectionist in my heart of hearts. If I were truly a perfectionist, I would have left him, long ago.

Yes, I know I whine alot about my marriage. I hope I stop too.