I confess my deepest fear

You know what that is? To feel lonely in a party, to feel desserted when I'm with people I care about.

The first time was when I was 13 or 14. Everyone was having dinner, including little Ting whom Mother was taking care of at that time. No longer remember why but I wasn't at the table. I looked on from the side like an outsider; they looked happy without me.

Then I was 20 or 21, at one of those memorable yet forgettable gatherings at Gloucester Green, memorable cos they were (mostly) happy; forgettable cos that's just how it's like when you spend happy times with friends. But in one unforgettable evening, I found everyone talking in small groups and l couldn't fit in anywhere. Loneliness had suddenly hit when it hurt most.

26 now, and I was once again haunted by this terrible feeling. But being 26 (and going to 27), and I hope, with a bit more sense between my ears, I'm looking upon all these incidents, optimistically, as a lesson for me, a lesson that I should have learnt through other less significant incidents but that has never been more clearly etched in my mind than lately.

In the end, I must be the most dependable person to myself. To become that, I need to grow up, I need to be stronger. And - I've never done this before but I've also been too naive and taking things for granted - I need to harden myself a bit more so that I'm no longer easily affected by external factors or haunted by the ghosts of the past. I should also stop clowning myself; no point doing all the above only to have people not take me seriously or taking me for granted.

I look deep inside me for the strength to help me do that.