On The Rocks With Cindy

My long term memory is a blessing and a curse. To help me with this blog post, I do have many past blog entries dating all the way back to early 2006 to help with those memories. This post is about Cindy. It’s a tribute post to honour a former connection that turned sour, and subsequently how I have grown from that experience. Once I publish this blog post, I will delete most of those past entries about her. Basically, I believe it’s time I let certain aspects of that past go, as I find them more of tedious anchors than actual lessons to be learned. Don’t get me wrong. I certainly have learned a lot over the years. It’s just that, I could move on better if I am not hindered with the knowledge I use to write so horribly when my feelings of being hurt came out the way it did.

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The late summer of 2004 was memorable in the sense that it had been about a year since I started biking regularly again, long after an accident at an intersection that blinded me in my right eye. A van had hit me head on as I rode my bike on the first day of school back in 1995. Untreated, undiagnosed PTSD. While I did briefly see a psychiatrist, it was for a different matter, though the doctor did exclaim hints of it in his report to the lawyers. Regardless, it was a memorable year in many venues and regards. One of which of course, was meeting Cindy. I don’t remember the exact reason why I was at Red Robins at Metrotown, but I was there with Carlo and through Carlo, Cindy was there too. I sat with my friends, but I didn’t speak much and drank to myself. Cindy came from a different table and sat across from me. We exchanged a few words and our drinks clinked, as a cheers to an otherwise mundanely uneventful evening. We exchanged numbers after asking if she would be interested in joining us for a bike ride in Richmond.

Excerpt from “Missing Her Plenty” published 2006-03-23

It has been only 1.5 days. I miss her a lot, but I’m not nearly as devastated as I was back in mid April 2005. This time, the difference being I am/was sick and tired of the way she treated me. The thing is I came to work today, and aside from missing her, I feel exactly the same. I am still lonely, alone, and blah.

Last night after my meeting, I went over to Albert’s place, then he drove us to Richmond. We walked around a residential area near Alderbridge Way and #4 Road. I spilled my thoughts to him, but I wasn’t radical, nor was I expressing anger and sadness. The most negative thing I felt last night was that I really missed Cindy – past tense. Today, I still miss her, but the day went on as with all the other days when we were still together.

The bike riding day came. She brought her navy blue bike over and it needed some heavy tuning. I spent some time tuning up her break wires, break pads, and adjusted her clicking gears, then oiled everything after dusting off all of the excess crap on there. Of course, while I genuinely did help her with her bike, I foolishly also tried to take my eyes and mind off of her fantastically delicious body. Fit legs, hot-fucking-damn fine ass, fit petite body, perky tits, cute face, lovely long black hair, and of course, the pigtails. To cut a long story short, I rode behind her half the time. Yes, obviously, I was checking her ass out and yes, she obviously knew I was.

Over the next four months, we spoke regularly over the phone, but rarely saw each other as we kept missing each other. One time at a gathering of friends and acquaintences to wish farewell a foreign Japanese student, I had hope to catch Cindy there, but she was working that evening. The message got to her from one of her friends, and she messaged me the next day saying it was a shame she had missed me. Our conversations over the months were nice. A quarter of it was flirtatious, another quarter was innuendo, then the other half was a mixture of substance and silliness. It was a dynamically mature connection.

Excerpt from “Missing Her Plenty” published 2006-03-23

Today and yesterday, I thought about her, and I truly do miss her, and there has been so many times I wanted to text her, email her, call her, and even show up at her door with her white fleece jacket. Alas, I did not. My willpower is holding me back, keeping me in place.

Yesterday morning as I was readying for work, I opened the closet, took the sleeve of her fleece jacket and breathed in the aroma left of her from the jacket. It smells like her, and I closed my eyes briefly for a ‘taste’ of her beside me. That’s how much I miss her.

I just can’t help but feel like I am abandoning her.

December 2004 came around and we hung out at my place. She leaned against me on my bed. I gave her a shoulder massage earlier. As I held her, she turned her head to her right, her eyes gestured towards me, while looking elsewhere and in a lowered voice, “Is there something you want to do?”

I leaned in closer to her face as the fingers of my right hand touched the left side of her face. I gently moved her face towards me and we kissed. She turned her whole body towards me and we ended up making out. I fondled her breasts and she caressed my hard-on. As the night progressed, she taught me that a woman can cum multiple times, given the right mood and circumstance.

The first three months of our relationship was super hot. Cindy was super attentive to me and constantly wanted to see me. We had sex almost every time we saw each other, and usually, we had sex multiple times a day. Sometimes, in one session, she would orgasm 6-10 times within 10-20 minutes. As for me, while it certainly felt good, it took me longer to cum. Usually, she would cum a few times before I could cum once.

Excerpt from “Last Kiss Goodbye” published 2006-03-25

She was breathing hard, and squirming back and forth. She asked 4 times if she can ride me. That was awesome. I continued banging her in various speeds and hardness – slaps, pumps, quick forehead rubs, abrupt stops, and sudden thrusts. It was great.

When she went on top of me, she rode me like crazy. Her breasts were bouncing up and down, hair flying back and forth, her expression was a mixture of intense pleasure and an aching need to relieve her gyrating cunt. Her mouth repeatedly closed and opened in unison to the movement of her hips. She wanted to scream out so badly, but couldn’t as we were doing it in her room, and her mom was just in the living room about 20 feet away.

I placed my hands on either side of her hip, and helped her move even harder and faster. Her face became even more distorted, her body shook everywhere. She was cumming. She came hard. She came long. She kept riding me, and I kept pushing hips back and forth. The muscles in my biceps started pumping and getting larger and stiffer. She was cumming continuously, and then she stopped for a moment and rode me even harder. Now she was cumming for a second time, non stop. Her pussy drool just gushed out on the sides of my cock, streaming down generously onto my balls, and on both sides of my thighs. She kept on panting, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh god!” And I kept on smiling and smirking, cuz I knew she was having really fucking great sex. It probably was going to be our last fuck. So I thought, let’s do this right, let’s do it good.

Basically, Cindy was a total sweetheart. Not only was sex delicious, but she was a really damn fucking good girlfriend. She was exactly what I needed at the time. She was intelligent, loves dancing, went to raves every weekend or two, loved hip hop and trance, she was not overly girly, wasn’t high maintenance, spoke perfect Cantonese and English, was independent, took care of herself, submissive and dominant dynamically, etc, etc, etc. It was all triple A excellent until it wasn’t.

I fucking screwed up.

Her mom got a botched surgery and stayed in the hospital for a long time. I made every excuse not to go see her mom at the hospital, even when Cindy suggested we visit her together. By the time I gave in, it was already too late. The damage was done. I had shown Cindy just how unreliable I was as a boyfriend, but more than that, it opened her eyes wide opened to other things. To cut a long convoluted story short, she went from super loving horny girlfriend to reluctantly guilty-feeling fuck buddy within a period of four months. After that, it was a roller coaster ride of cold, lukewarm, and icy cold, then back to slightly warm, wash, repeat.

After we broke up for a final time in March 2006, I had gone through a world of emotional pain. I posted my blog entries out of anger primarily perpetuated by the feeling of extreme vexation. In hindsight, it basically came down to the following:

1. I wasn’t there for when she needed me.
2. It proved to her that I was unreliable.
3. Which opened her eyes wider to see other faults I have, and blew those faults out of proportion because it no longer mattered the good parts of me. The bad parts was what she needed to help her not get back together with me.
4. As our relationship continued, she did bare minimal as a girlfriend, and she rarely kissed me after sex. Even then, only a light peck. Clearly, she was reluctant and she was no longer in love.
5. When her friends spoke unkindly of me behind my back, she didn’t defend me. Instead, she stayed silent and relayed that information back to me, perhaps to rile me up.
6. During a party, she sat on some guy who wanted to sleep with her, who held her, right in front of me as I stood there watching. We got into an argument on an unrelated thing afterwards.
7. After spending an entire day helping her friend with decorations for her wedding banquet, everyone else who helped out got gifts and thanks. I was completely ignored at their small gathering afterwards. Cindy’s friend deliberately did that because she felt I was the bad guy in the relationship with Cindy. Moronically, Cindy has been saying bad things about her friend behind her back.
8. Her mom tried to set Cindy up with a doctor, right in front of me. Her mom made a point that being a freelancer will never work out with her daughter who was a Pharmacist Technician.
9. Basically, almost everyone on her side of the universe was against me in some regard, less two decent people – one of her childhood friends and a kindhearted engineer. There are a few people whom were neutral like Carlo’s fiance and Cindy’s brother.
10. I kept trying for the relationship because on one hand, I felt guilty for abandoning Cindy at her time of need, so I felt I needed to fix things, and on the other hand, the sex was still decent. Of course, both reasons are stupid as fuck.

What I should have done, was let that relationship go early on in the relationship after it clearly broke. Better yet, I shouldn’t have abandoned Cindy at her time of need. I was too emotionally reserved and empathetically disconnected. Honestly, even to this day, I don’t know why I behaved the way I did. While it’s true I had social anxiety, it wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t do what I could have done.

Cindy was my first serious girlfriend as an adult and I fucked that up. While of course, it didn’t justify all the shit I went through over the next 12 months after that initial error, ultimately and in hindsight, it’s not all her fault. She was too weak willed to say no and I was too weak willed to stop trying to fix things that were shattered beyond repair. That’s why I would break up with her multiple times, but end up being back together again.

Excerpt from “Last Kiss Goodbye” published 2006-03-25

I told Jenny that Cindy said to me in the past and recent past, “When we’re together, it’s perfect, but when we’re apart, I can’t help but treat you like crap.” Along those lines… Jenny suddenly realized what me and Albert had been trying to say.

Albert also mentioned that it doesn’t matter if I tried to encourage Cindy to be herself, because she’s too old to change. She’s 29.

I was sad to realize that she is too old to change. Then again, she did say her positive emotions for me were nil, and she wasn’t willing to change for me, and instead willing to change only for Nelly.

Well, she treated me really badly. She even admitted she was and is immoral, dishonest, insincere, dishonorable, deceiving, playing with my emotions, and took advantage of my generosity. Albert told me, he hates her, he really hates her for hurting me so badly.

Of course, as the years came and went, after going through other relationships, as well as self reflection, I realized there was no way Cindy and I could have made it work. I am too introverted. I also needed someone who would understand, or at the very least, accept fully my mental disorders such as anxiety and depression. I also needed someone who would know how to dynamically work with me in that relationship to make us work. Mind you, this wasn’t fully realized until somewhat recently with Amber. However, it’s hard to pinpoint these sort of things because the dynamics of the connection with specific individuals matter a lot. So while it of course worked out with Amber and I, the exact variables would be present in relationships with other people but in different ways. It worked out with Amber and I, because we have similar mental disorders, and we both sought after similar things. While Cindy and I did not have the same mental disorders, and our goals were different.

In hindsight, based on my emotional and mental evolution, I believe we could have been really great friends, and I dare say, even really great friends with benefits, if we both were clearheaded and I was more mature than I was back then. We could perhaps even love each other to some level and keep a casual pseudo romantic relationship, but never take it too seriously. No commitment and no expectation. Just hardcore yummy sex, hanging out, talk each others’ ears off, and do our own separate things. Then again, this is on the notion that I have today’s mindset back then. Back then, I was still uncertain what I really wanted out of life and too insecure for a serious relationship to work out anyway.

Excerpt from “Milk From Dairyland” published 2006-05-29

Pat came over about a week ago, and upon entering my room, he looked at my desktop and asked, “That Cindy?” I raised my eyebrow and looked at where he was looking, then turned back to him and said, “Umm, that’s Lucy Liu.” Then today, my mom comes in and says, “Why do you still have that bitch on your computer?!?!” Again, I raised my eyebrow and said, “Umm, that’s Lucy Liu. She’s a 38 year old actress.” My mom then leans in a bit and says, “Hmm, is that (some Chinese name that I don’t remember)?” And I replied, “Uh, I don’t know who you’re talking about but sure…”

I had this photo of Lucy Liu as my desktop wallpaper…

Over the years, I had stalked her from time to time. About once or twice a year, I would search her up to see what she is up to. I found out she continued cycling. That’s good. She also finally escaped North America and experienced life beyond the Pacific and Atlantic. She made some new friends, started some new hobbies, created a short video on Youtube for something many years ago, and did some surfing. She still has a great body. Sometimes, I wonder what she’s up to. Sometimes, I fantasize about reconnecting with her. Of course, then my experience with Elyssa floats into my mind and I wonder if reconnecting with Cindy is even a good idea. She did treat me like a doormat.

Some months ago, I remarked to Amber that strangely, of every single girl I was ever intimate with, I had never once bumped into any of them after we broke up. When I went to Hong Kong in 2006, I found out Cindy was there a week prior to me arriving. While of course, I had a few lovers and former fuck buddies that resided in Hong Kong, I never once bumped into any of them in 2006, 2007, and 2011 when I went back there. Even the times they took a vacation here, I never ran into them. It’s not avoidance. It’s like a lottery I surmise. It just never happened, or perhaps we walked passed each other without even realizing it.

Excerpt from “Finding My Rest” published 2006-03-30

I opened the door, and she walked out. At that one instance – right at 9:02pm, she did something to me, that she hasn’t done since mid February 2005. She walked out of my house door, turned around and gave me a kiss on my lips, then said bye, waved at me, and walked away. As she disappeared into the darkness, she turned and waved again, and I waved back too. Then I closed the door, and went back upstairs.

Anyway, not much more can be said about this that I haven’t said before. My only regret is that I had hurt Cindy the way I did and it took so long to realize it. Regardless what she did to me accidentally and otherwise, ultimately, she didn’t do it because she genuinely wanted to hurt me per se. What she did was a result of many mishaps between us strongly influenced by how her friends felt about me through their limited perception of what happened. This part of our soured relationship caused a lot of stress for me, because I felt I was misjudged for one thing I said online about Cindy’s relationship with me and the obvious insecurity I expressed throughout the rest of our broken relationship. Basically, Cindy didn’t have the ability to say no to me, nor break up with me. So she used indirect methods in trying to make me leave her, without outright sleeping with another guy.

Cindy once mentioned I represent 4 of the best candies out of a possible 10, but it’s not enough to have a fulfilling life with. It’s similar in reverse. Cindy and I were sexually compatible, and when our relationship was at its best, we were great together. Perhaps in some regard, what I failed to do for Cindy was a blessing of sorts rather than simply a mishap. It allowed me to do some heavy reflection and grow from it. It opened my mind to things I must be aware of, and must do given the circumstance. It slowly and gradually made me more aware of what I needed to do and how to do them, when similar situations arose in the future with other lovers and people I generally care about.

Regardless, it has been 16 years and 16 days since our break up. A long time. While we had broken up on bad terms, I still think about her every now and then. I try not to think about the negatives we had. Instead, I try to think about the positive moments we’ve shared. It’s better for my well being to think of the good in people that had once wronged me, than to continue to be swallowed up by the grief our broken dynamics had caused us. Perhaps, the last 16 years had taught Cindy how to communicate better in her relationships with people, and to break away from the toxic behaviours that made our relationship hard for both of us. The last 16 years had certainly taught me a great deal.

In short, whatever Cindy has going for her today, I truly hope her heart is met with satisfaction, continued growth, and of course, explosive orgasms. ^_^

PS: I moved all of the comments from all of the deleted Cindy-related posts here, to give everyone an idea the interactions at the time.