Confessions of a Cat-holic (131)

But I didn't expect that the entire financial industry would go through a hiring freeze after my former employer's bankruptcy which had then disrupted the whole world's economies. With an Ivy League degree from a school as prestigious as Columbia University, I was unemployed for the longest time. I was overqualified for any layman's job and the overall sentiments were so bad that no employers could quite make an offer to match my previous salaries. All I could find was some teller's job in a local branch that was around 1/6 of my former package. I would not be working in a bank for such a salary, given the psychotic stress I experienced from working in finance and that I hated numbers more than anyone else.

Not only that, I also suffered from severe back pain and headaches as a result. I could not possibly pursue a second degree or a change of career track with my lack of experience and a professional degree in Financial Engineering. I broke up with my almost engaged five year college sweetheart so I was left unmarried, heartbroken. I had no job, no boyfriend, no husband, no possibility of a change of career path, no mental support, no love, no salary paycheck, no marriage, no property. I felt like nothing. I had nothing. I went through a trough where I felt suffocated with no hopes and no light at the end of the tunnel.

When I was at my most desperate moments, I decided to reconnect with my first love, Rex, who was working at Home Depot in Vancouver. He finally picked up my calls but he would not talk to me because he said he was busy loading off a truck in the warehouse. Another time, his girlfriend picked up the phone and told me that he was busy. The only times I could possibly reach him were when I saw him online on MSN, which was also handled by his co-residing girlfriend at the time. He told me that she was a native from Beijing and she worked as a real estate agent, earning a salary six times of his in Vancouver city.

I left him a few voice messages on WeChat and written texts on MSN that were a series of swear words. A message would contain as much as 2 minutes of uninterrupted foul language, in both English and Cantonese, sometimes Mandarin too, if I felt like it. A typical message would contain words that included, but not limited to, dicks, pussies, wet ass pussies, fucking, shit, cunt, fuck off, crap, damn, asshole, bullshit, dickheads, cocks, son of a bitch, bastard, motherfucker, all together in one sentence. You motherfucker asshole dickhead pussy licker who fucked only fucking cunt and wet ass pussy. You a piece of crap, goddamn son of a bitch, a shit dick, you bastard with a brain full of shit, bullshit, ass-fucking cock. Beware that I could swear as fluent in all three languages. So you could multiply that three times.

But he didn't respond. The only trace I could obtain from stalking him was that he was following TVB's "Sweetheart‘s Storm", which officially was named as "Heart of Greed", because he was reciting one of its famous line, "Eating whatever salty, sour, sweet and bitter" on its headline.

Even at my worst times, Rex didn't let loose himself or go hard on me. He was not there when I needed him most. I was kind of disappointed. So I threw my temper back at him as hard as I could.

That was about the closest we ever got close to having a fight. But that was only me yelling on my side. He just sucked it in, without any reciprocation.

Oh, there was a time when we were on the brink of getting into a fight.

When we were going out, we rarely took any photos together. There was a time he asked me to put his photograph as the backdrop of my cell phone screen. He was kind of specific. He actually sent me a photo with him and him only in front of Niagara Falls and asked me to use it as my screensaver. And I did, as requested. That photo was dim as hell. I could hardly see his facial features because he was back-facing the sun. And the resolution of the photo was so bad that the waterfall was blurry to a point that it looked like a patch of white clusters. Nobody could tell from the photo that it was him, except those who knew him well enough to recognize his silhouette.