It's been 7 years since the night I was alone and lost in Singapore, and met you as I walked alongside the riverside of Clarke Quay.
So there you were. Older, successful and fresh off an exit - while I was young, naive and my business idea was nothing but a fantasy. Both my startup aspirations - and you - were completely unattainable.
7 years ago, entrepreneurship, men, love and ambition were all foreign to me.
7 years ago, with an amazing rendition of Kings of Leon playing in the background, I looked into your eyes and really believed I could use somebody like you.
And yet, I let you break my heart.
You chose her.
I still remember that night in KL as if it were yesterday. Alone, tears rolling down my cheeks, I learned two things:
1. Women should think with their brains, not their heart.
2. I will never cry over the loss of a man again.
7 years later, I am a completely different person. I've loved and lost businesses, boyfriends, traveled a little and grown a lot.
7 years later, there were men who wanted to marry me and men who wanted to play with me. I cried no tears for either.
7 years later, I still want to ask you ... So what do you think of what I've achieved? Is my career going well? Have I made the right choices? Should I really leave?
Do you still love her?
... And I feel like I'm falling into a wormhole back through time, where I am once again a naive 21-year-old who had nothing to offer and really desired your validation.
They say that women will always be the weaker species and I've spent the past 7 years trying to prove I wasn't made with the same mold. But today, I'm feeling a little tired of fucking up and moving on. Just for today - I want to be weak.
And weakness, to me, is thinking about that time in my life, 7 years ago, when I fell in love with you.