Prologue

I wanted to give thanks to these people who helped me along the way. This list will constantly be updated, for every person I meet that impacts my "process" - no matter how seemingly small - will be added here.

My Mother - You drive me crazy, but I love you. You don't know it, but your strength in your own marraige gives me strength to be independent. You don't realize how much I look up to you. I love you.

Lia - You hate when I hate. You love when I love. You listen to me, you cry with me, you laugh with me. You never judge and always support. You know me best, and you bring me so much happiness. I love you.

Katie - You support me, and you love me. YOU UNDERSTAND ME. You hurt when I hurt; and you hurt for me when I am numb. You feel for me what I cannot feel for myself. You are so loyal to me, and you mean so much to me. You say the wittiest things to make me laugh. You shop with me and holy shit, you make me spend a LOT of money. If it wasn't for you and your love, I wouldn't be who I am today. I love you.

Talin - You are such a loyal friend, and have been by my side since day 1. You get silly drunk with me whenever you can, and you dance with me. You see me for me, and you still love me. You side with me no matter who hurts me, and you help me to heal that hurt. I love you.

Doutt Family - You love me and made me a part of your family regardless. You accept me for me, and you welcome me time and time again. I love you.

Dan - How you let me abuse you, I have no clue. You let me ruin your reputation, whatever it may be, and you still somehow talk to me. You see red when I see red, and you laugh when I see green (which is all the time). You know just how to cheer me up by making me feel bad. I love you.

Rudi - Cocksucker. You'd take a 12 incher in the ass just for me. I love you.

Daniel - You romanced me in London with your eloquent speech and elegant demeanor. You inspired me, and gave me the most memorable conversations I have ever had with anyone. Never have I fallen in love with one's affluent language as I did with yours. You were the first person to go out of your way to show me things in a manner that noone ever has, and I hope to do the same for you when you visit the United States. I love you.

Danny - You came at a time in my life when I needed someone like you most. You are good to me, and you have stuck by me at times when you didn't need to. In a short time, you have helped me to regain faith in where it was lost. I love you.

South Beach, Miami - If it wasn't for all your hot men, I'd be thinking that I would never find another again. I love you.

London, England - My source of inspiration. I have a sick romantic affair with you. My heart is full when I visit, it breaks when I leave. I love you.

Finally, Charlie - You broke my heart. But you helped me find me. You gave me the opportunities in life that I never thought I would have. If it wasn't for you, I would still be floundering in this existence. We are non-romantic soul mates, and we will be connected to the end. You taught me a type of love that I never knew, and now I know what to look for in my next one. You gave me the best gift someone could ever give me, and that's my freedom. Thank you.

Cheers to all of you who have helped me along the way.

Purpose

"If you can't decide whether you want me or not, please set me free." I tearfully begged on 22, April 2006. My boyfriend of 7 years and I were at the Rio Grande in Bethesda sharing the Platos Gordos platter. A week later, I got my wish.

Writing about this and reliving the moment now is quite painful for me, but I need to do this to free myself, to release the pain of a breakup that devastated me and turned my world as I knew it then completely upside down. It was up to me to put the pieces of my life back together and rebuild a new world of my own.

8 months later and 8 days into the new year, I have found myself and made myself whole. How did I do this? It was a long and difficult process, and somehow I managed to draw the strength from within. Now, I want to share my experience with everyone who has ever suffered a broken heart.

Cheers to living life as it comes, and to taking it one day at a time.

Moving Out...Moving On

It was 10:00am EST. I tearfully untangled myself from Charlie's arms and looked at his sleeping face. I wanted to memorize every feature and every structure of his beauty, for it was going to be the last time I was ever going to see something so familiar ever again. I brushed my lips lightly against his, like a slight breeze that grazes your skin on cool spring day. His eyes fluttered open as he pursed his lips with the intentions of kissing me back. He looked at his watch.

"OH SHIT!" he exclaimed. He shot up out of that bed as if I had yelled from downstairs "ESPN and blow jobs in the living room!" Never had I seen such motivation, but I knew why he was in a hurry. His friends were going to be at my house any minute to help him move out.

Charlie grabbed all the trash bags and boxes he could, and immediately began jamming his belongings into them. I sat on his bed crying so hard, my chest hurt.

"Please don't leave me." I cajoled. "Isn't there a small part of you that doesn't want to leave me?"

"Yes. There is a large part of me that doesn't want to do this. " he lied. "But I have to."

That was the morning of 29, April 2006. He had only told me he was moving out the night before. I knew his behavior over the last week was peculiar, and I ignored all the signs. There were no guys' nights, nor was there poker. Every night was spent with me, and every night there was a sad and forlorn look in his eyes as he gazed upon me and followed my every move. Every night when we went to bed, he clung to me as if he never wanted to let me go. Every time he spoke to me, there was a sadness in his voice that I attributed to our argument only a few days before. Every morning that he kissed me goodbye before he left for work, was like he was kissing me for the last time.

Despair settled upon me as a sheet of moisture would upon the Earth on a foggy night. The first week was the hardest. I didn't talk to him for days. It seems cliché to say that every second felt like a minute, every minute like an hour, every hour like a day. But that was how the first few days were like with him gone. Sleep was my only escape, yet I couldn't sleep enough. I was determined to plod on through what was left of my life. The morning he left, I made the decision that I wasn't going to let someone who could so easily break my heart break me down. So I went out with my friends that night, and I went to work 2 days later.

Why? Why did I feel this way? Why couldn't I just take a few days and mourn the loss of my love of 7 years. Why did I want to put myself back into society alone and embarrassed by the failings of a seemingly solid relationship. We were the power couple, the couple that everyone envied. We looked great together, and on the surface, we were great together. We were both healthy, successful, and lead a life that nobody else we knew could lead. We were the couple that everyone looked up to and wanted to be like. How could I step out my door and admit that our love wasn't as strong as we all had thought?

My motto: Shit Happens. But you have to plod on through it. It's going to be smelly, it's going to be dirty. But if you just grit your teeth and fight your way through, the sooner you'll get through it, and the sooner you can wipe yourself clean. If you stop and despair, it will only take longer. It's up to you to find the strength within yourself to plod on through your shit.

Don't get me wrong, It was difficult. I cried at work. I cried in my car. I cried at home. I cried at the gym. I cried at the mall. There was no place in the Washington D.C. area in which I didn't spend any time without him in the last 7 years. Every nook and cranny of the area had deeply rooted memories of us. I felt trapped and stifled by my memories, and by a life and existence I had known for so long. Yet, I decided I had to face everything head on.

For years, I wanted my own identity. I wanted to be Vanessa. Instead, I was "Charlie and Ness." To be defined by being a part of a couple - even though I was the better half :) - was quite constraining. I have always been an independent entity, and I realized that this was my opportunity to gain back what was lost. Once I achieve that, only then can I fully give myself to someone who wholly deserves me. I recognized that this path was going to be difficult to follow, but once the destination is reached, I will then be truly happy - with no pretenses. Because, at the end, I will find ME.

We can't help what hands we are dealt in life, but we must do what we must to live our lives to the fullest and the best we can. Every event in life only makes you stronger - you just have to let it.

Cheers to plodding through shit and coming out clean.

Meeting in Heaven

I was 22 years old when I first met Charlie. It sounds funny to say, but every time someone asks "How did you guys meet?" our answer was "We met in Heaven." You see, there is a club in Adams Morgan (a neighborhood in D.C.) called 'Heaven and Hell.' The upstairs is named Heaven, and downstairs is, of course, Hell. I always thought it to be quite ironic, being that we were so in love and having the ability to say we met in Heaven - and yet, Heaven was a seedy club.

When I first rolled up at the club, I noticed a really hot guy standing in line, wearing all black. He had dark hair and great features. I took a mental snapshot of him , and then made my way into the club. Once inside, my friends and I congregated on the rooftop, drinks in hand. I scanned the area for this handsome stranger, voila, a guy dressed all in black was across the rooftop. I can still remember the moment I laid eyes on him: it was hot inside, and he was coming out for a respite from dancing. His head was tilted down at a 60 degree angle, and he was running his hand through his hair. His side profile was beautiful, but as my eyes traveled up, I realized he had blond hair.

Fuck. That's not the hot guy from outside.

Disappointment washed over me. Oh well, I was sure my hot guy was still around somewhere. As I began to turn back to my friends, he looked up and his eyes met mine. They twinkled impishly as he caught me looking at him. He smiled at me. Wow. He's cute, I thought. I smiled back. Once he realized he had my attention, his confidence grew and his smile broadened. I waggled my fingers at him to say hello, but did not want to show too much interest. I averted my eyes back to my friends, but found myself looking back at him quite often. We played this little ocular game for a while, and he eventually walked to the door and stood there with his hands in his pockets. He smiled that gorgeous smile at me for about 10 seconds as our eyes connected yet again, and then he disappeared inside. That was my cue to follow him and continue the flirty dance between us. Since then, we fell deeply in love for years to come.

Charlie was the first real mature love of my life, but he will not be the last. I will someday meet my last….when I am ready.

Cheers, to the many loves I will encounter on the way.

The First Encounter

Whoever coined the phrase 'silence is golden' should have been removed from existence. The silence that proliferated my home was unbearable for the first few days. Gone were the sounds of ESPN emanating from the television after Charlie would get home from work. Gone was his snoring while he slept, which helped put me to sleep. Gone was the laughter that reverberated throughout the house for years. Lingering, was the silence of an empty home. Golden? I think not.

Charlie and I did not talk for 4 days after he moved out of my house. He needed his space, and I needed to start the process of being accustomed to not talking to him anymore. The longer I put it off, the harder it would be for me in the future. I might as well get the hard part over with now. I refused to contact him in any way; anytime I wanted to call him, I would call my friends. I would draft up emails to him telling him how much I miss him, only to delete them after they were finished. I would start to text him to let him know how much I loved him, only to close my phone before the message could be sent. Sadness dominated my days and urged me to falter, but my willpower was great. Shit, I had a much easier time quitting smoking.

On the 4th day, he called. My heavy heart lightened from hearing his voice. He was selling his Jeep, which was sitting inside my garage, could he come over that evening to show it to a couple who was interested in it? I said yes. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I debated on whether I should be at the house when he did this or should I leave. The biggest question, of course, was whether I was able to see him yet? Fuck it, I decided, I'd rather go through a few days of pain just to have 1 pleasurable hour with him. He has already hurt me, he can't hurt me anymore than the day he left. I flew home to get ready for his visit.

He showed up at my house at 5:30. He enveloped me in his big, strong arms. How I missed them so during our 4 days apart. His familiar scent stirred my nostrils, his face brightened my eyes, his voice was like music to my ears, and his touch was soothing to my skin. We clung to each other for a while, seemingly not wanting to let each other go. When his lips pressed against mine to greet me hello, I swooned.

We were soon interrupted by the couple who wanted to look at the Jeep. Charlie tended to them outside, and when I appeared on the back balcony to see what was going on, he looked up at me with that soft, proud smile on his face and said "That's my girlfriend."

Let me backtrack a bit to the night he told me he was moving out. When he first broke the news to me, I flipped.

"What are you saying?!?!?!? Are you breaking up with me?!?!" I had demanded.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," he lied. "I just need some time to figure out what I want."

Confusion overwhelmed me. I was not sure what our status was, whether we were completely broken up, or we were just going to take a step back to work on us. He never gave me a straight answer on that, so when he introduced me to the couple who were interested in purchasing the Jeep as his "girlfriend," my heart soared. We were going to work on 'us.'

After the couple left, Charlie and I made a little small talk and hung out in my kitchen. I dared to kiss him, brushing my lips so very lightly against his. The electricity was tremendous. I dared to go a bit further, wanting to taste every inch of him. We hadn't kissed like this in years, nor have I felt anything like this since this one guy I kissed when I was 21. Despite his efforts to resist me, we ended up having the best sex we've ever had. Ever.

After it was over, he got dressed and left. I thought I would feel empty, but I didn't. Perhaps it was because he called me his girlfriend, and this made me optimistic. We had such a passionate relationship between us for 7 years, we had to keep trying. This man loved me more than life itself, you could see and feel the passion that we had for each other when we were together - that was how convinced I was.

I was so naïve then. But I am not anymore.

Cheers, to truth and realization.

Declaring Independence

Independence is a virtue. Dependence is acceptable. Co-dependence…not so great.

Ever since I can remember, I have always been a bit of a loner. I was painfully shy while growing up - I know, hard to see. I did not start coming out of my shell until later in the fourth grade. But I have always had a strong independent streak, and I attribute that to my mother (along with other underlying factors). You see, though my family is quite Americanized, we were still a typical Chinese family - man and woman marry, they hate each other, they make babies, and then refuse to divorce because it's not "custom" to do so. So they make it an agenda to spend the rest of their lives making each other miserable. That is my family. It was quite dysfunctional in an amusing way.

Watching how unhappy my father made my mother, and how she made her life bearable by retreating into her own little world helped me to never depend on anyone else to make me happy. I built my life on making sure that I am responsible for my own happiness. No one will ever bring me down, and if they try to do so, that will be the last time they try.

A week after 'moving day,' I was sitting on my front balcony having another "I miss Charlie" conversation with Katie. To help me bide my time, she suggested that I write up a list of things to do while I am single.

"You have always talked about what you wanted to do if you were single, here is your chance," she said.

There are so many things I want to do in life before I settle down, but have always held back because I was with Charlie. Here was my opportunity to make up for it. It was the least I could do before I entered another relationship - whenever that may be. The last thing I want is to be with someone and always think "I wish I was single so I can do this…" I thought it constantly when I was with Charlie, and even then I thought it was unfair for me to feel this way. When I move on into my next relationship, I hope to not be thinking this way.

So, I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and my list went like this:

1. Watch MTV and VH1 in peace.
2. Travel alone.
3. Sleep with the TV on without someone bitching by my side..
4. Be able to moon people at my own free will.
5. Have sex with 2 guys at once.
6. Buy a box of condoms and use it all - with different people.
7. Learn to really be alone, and be OK with it.
8. Not have ESPN on my TV for a month.
9. Move out of the area.
10. Live in the city.
11. Find Vanessa Loren Dai.
12. BE TRULY HAPPY.

Every item I have completed and crossed off this list gave me a sense of accomplishment. It was liberating. Over time I found that it was much nicer to be marching to the beat of my own drum, though I do look forward to that one day when someone will be marching with me.

Cheers to independence.

First Impressions, First Love

My weekend nights are usually reserved for my girls. If I go out with a guy, usually it will be on the weeknights. On the rare occasions that I go out with a guy on the weekend, they will join my friends and me - and in these cases, I'm usually a bit more interested in him than the norm.

To be truly honest, I do not really know why I work this way. My guess is that I have a rule on intimacy and sleeping over - I don't do either. Why? Some say it's because I'm too independent. Sometimes I agree.

I remember the first time Charlie and I went out on a Saturday. I had picked him up in the morning to go to the pool. After a few fun hours of sunning and swimming, we had dinner where I invited him to hang out later that night for a friend's birthday party. I then proceeded on drinking way too much, throwing up in his bathroom sink (which needed to be drano-ed out later), and then passing out in his bed. Embarrassing? Very. I even yelled at him for asking me a "philosophical" question. Thank goodness for his sense of humor. I don't know any man who would have called me after a night like this.

I woke up the next day with the nastiest hangover, and God bless him - he made me blueberry pancakes. Unfortunately, my stomach was too sour to take it so I didn't really eat it. I was extremely touched by his efforts, however, and invited him and his roommate to play volleyball with my brother and me later that afternoon (post-hangover).

I was floored that I was opening myself up to him like this. Let me digress a bit to let you in to see who I am, and how I normally "work."

Nobody is more important to me than my family. Family, for me, includes my best friends - male and female. I love spending time with my family, and I will do anything and everything for my family. Random men, don't mean anything to me. I guess you can call me a serial dater. I never have less than 5 men in my queue, but I don't normally sleep with any of these men. They are men that I normally meet, am interested in for a short period of time, and then they fall out. Once they fall out, there is someone else to replace their position in the queue. Why do I do this? I'm not always out to hook up. I love meeting new people, and making new friends. If I have to try to get to know a guy and make a friend out of him through "interest," then that's what I will do. The ones that see me for me and stick around, will realize that they are better off being friends with me. Those that don't, don't. What do I have to lose? Nothing. Don't get me wrong, when I am single, there is nothing I love more than the game, and playing that game, I am an expert at.

Why play the game? Who cares? Insecure, I am not. Just think of it this way…before Charlie, I was single for a year. Before that, I was with another guy for 5 and a half years. If you do the math, I've pretty much been in a relationship since I was 16. Where is the time to grow and figure out who I am? When I am in a relationship, I am fiercely loyal and devoted. When I am single, I will take advantage of every minute I can to just have fun, and to enjoy life. I am the best girlfriend one can ever have, and I am the best woman for a hook up.

Life is so short, we must take advantage of every phase we are in. So why waste my time on someone who will not appreciate me in the long run? I approach every situation in this manner because I sincerely believe that no expectations = no disappointments. That equation is not hard to understand. That is yet another one of my life mantras. We expect so much out of life, and want everything to be so perfect that it causes stress and anxiety when we are dealt the "wrong" card - something we can not avoid. It's not that I don't have high goals or expectations, I would just rather not deal with the stress that comes with meeting them. Things will work out on their own and in their own time, and most of the time we cannot control how we get there.

Even after that humiliating night, Charlie ended up seeing me for me, and loving me for me. Even to this day, I believe he would not want me to change myself for anything - except for what makes me happy. I think I saw this in him from day one, and that's why he was the first person I was able to let into my soul in such a short period of time.

Cheers. To the first real love of my life.