Mr. Fix-It and I (part. 1)


I have some requests from some readers (two!) to reveal the untold story why I ended up with Mr. Fix-It again after I broke up with him in a very painful way. It’s not easy to explain, and of course some people actually become a little bit suspicious about my motives. Bear with me I will tell you the whole story today. As I promised.

So basically I felt terrible after we broke up. Not only that I know I broke his heart, but apparently I broke my heart a little as well. I didn’t really realise how needy I was to him. I was almost always drunk and he was there to make sure no bastards took advantage of a fragile me. He took me in to his house when I felt down, which was almost every day, and he helped me move on. Little by little, with his sincere friendship.

Yes. It was a friendship. Of course he told me he was still waiting, but he wouldn’t push himself to me. He said he’s okay with a friendship. I told him to move on, even tried to set him up with someone else. Things got more comfortable.

One day I went to York with a friend I knew from Tribal Wars. He was a young boy I knew for quite a while and he was nice. Maybe I wanted to mess about, but what I didn’t realise was at that moment when I was at York, I kept thinking of Mr. Fix-It. In every places I went, all I could think of was whether I should buy some souvenir for him, which I did eventually. And nothing was better than seeing him picking me up at the rail station that day. I am so glad to see him there. I just didn’t know why.

I didn’t know how it started but I gradually let go smoking and drinking. I didn’t think I needed them anymore. I felt comfortable, contented and happy all the time. I knew the reason though, so one night when we snuggled before bed I muffled the three words sentence, and asked him to forget about it the next morning. I knew right there and then, I would never be the same again. I fell in love in a way that I’ve never thought I would. But it was too late.

I had to go back to Indonesia.

We had two choices.

Give it up. Or not.

We chose not to. Or should I say, HE chose not to.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s