the wave is coming

 
       You are the kind of person who always gets carried away, Zm once said. He said it not in a negative way, nor in a positive way. In a matter of fact way. In the way of the man who is always holding the string to a kite that is roaming.

      I think I am the kind of person who becomes consumed by whatever she does. If I cannot give something my all, then there is nothing. He gives me that knowing look. He has strong arms, for he has much to carry.

       On one Sunday, there was so much to do but I didn't want to get out of bed. I laid on the bed, curved in a c as if I was a sea shell. Zm turned from his computer, took off his earphones and settled next to me. I opened one hand, and he put his hand in. Two people curved on a bed, holding hands, waiting for the inevitable.

five years

  (I posted the entry below on Facebook on 10th October 2013 to mark the fifth anniversary of my relationship with ZM. It was meant to be a little surprise for ZM, with a little public flavour, since we have never been very public with our relationship when it first started. In a way, we have been through so much, and I just wanted to express how much he meant to me, in my own way.)

In my whole life, I always feared, most of all no longer being able to say "no".

Even as I wanted to marry you, I feared not being able to leave you. 

I feared the strength of my desire to be with you would weaken with our vows - where can desire roam in the place duty stays? 

I asked you, needled you, wanting to show that you had nothing to stand on - these promises of forever - what do they really bind? Our feet?

"What happens if I leave you?"

"I would be alone."

"Impossible."

"Any other relationship would be a diluted, sanitised version of this. I've put everything I've had into this - there's nothing left. If this does not work, nothing will work."

"This is it," He said, "This is it for me."

And, that, was why I married Him.

itinerant

itinerant 

adjective 

travelling from place to place, especially covering a circuit 

    After we parted, I walked off for a while before I realised that I had left my handphone in ZM's pocket. So, I turned around, crossed the road, to chase after ZM. 

  

      And, after I crossed the road, I saw ZM running out of the shopping mall entrance. 

      We laughed. 

   When I'm with you, it feels like a Sunday, he said. 

      It feels like all roads stop here. 

the first date

Photography credits: Kelvin Koh (Lightedpixels) 

     It was after midnight and we were walking home from the shopping mall to my house. Many of the exits were closed already. We walked towards an automated sliding door and ZM muttered, "Won't it be cool if I waved my hand and the doors opened?" We had just finished a movie where the characters had superpowers - hence his delusions of grandeur. 

   ZM waved and the doors opened. I laughed, "That is so lame." 

  ZM shook his head, "You see, you won't say that if this was our first date." 

  I cooed, "Oh that was so cool." 

   "Now, that's just patronising." 

  I laughed, "Then let's pretend we are on our first date." 

  I turned to him shyly, "My house is only a ten minutes walk away, it's fine if we part now - it's just a short walk away." 

  ZM "gentlemanly" offered to walk me back since he was "going to take a cab back after sending me back anyway". 

  He asked how far away my house was. I said it was about ten minutes away. 

  ZM responded, "Then I will enjoy these ten minutes." 

  I cringed in half embarrassment and an almost effort to resist blushing. "I can't believe you said that," I said. "Don't you think that's coming on a bit strong for a first date?" 

  ZM laughed. 

   We had instances like these on the walk home - breaking the illusion of the first date. I said whoever broke the illusion three times will face a penalty. 

   After that,  none of us broke the illusion again. It was... fascinating in parts - because we talked a lot on the way back, making an effort to fill in the silences, to tell the other that we were interested - even laying the foundation for the next date. Balancing between expressing interest and avoiding the impression of being too eager. It was a dance of being open but not ready to commit. 

   We walked side by side - with that intangible space between us - it was the unexplored frontier, the distance that needed to be crossed. 

    We told each other tidbits and stories we had already shared before in our five years together. There was nothing we did not know. 

    In the park that laid between the night and my house, I told him I loved to watch out for the cats - little angels guarding my route home. Oh there they were, I said, and we watched the cats for a while, before we decided not to disturb them any longer. 

   At one point, ZM offered for us to sit on the benches in the middle of the park, and to watch the cats. The kind of irresistibly spontaneous and romantic thing you do on first dates. 

   But, I said no.

   So we walked home to my gate, thanked each other for the lovely night and said goodbye. 

   When I walked into my gate, ZM followed me in. 

   Because when the magic of the first date falls away, it is your husband that follows you home. Maybe we always need some reminding that even in the longest relationships, there was a first date. There is always a first date. 

  At the first date, we say yes to everything because this might be our only date. 

  But it's not too bad, being married, as ZM always smiles and says, it means we can fall in love again and again and again.  

the perfect date

     The only question I get more often than "does ZM 'get' you or understand your writing?" is "Do you and ZM ever fight?" I suppose the answer is both yes and no, because of course ZM and I squabble, because we have such different attitudes towards life and money - but the answer is also no, because we don't really fight like most couples, it's never negative or personal or vindictive. And, I think it's never negative, personal or vindictive because ZM is not a person to take things negatively, personally or vindictively. I'm the kind of person who could/would - who can take something said or done in ordinary life and see it as a response to me personally. 

   But, ZM and I have been together for almost five years now, and within that time, both of us have in our own way, grown comfortable with how we say our 'I love you's. We don't say 'No' to each other, we say 'Maybe'. 

   Because, at a certain point in the relationship, both of us did not want to ever break up - knowing exactly the kind of person the other was. And at that point, you can't talk about deal-breakers anymore. Still, there would always be gaps - some easily filled than others. I've always wanted a dog - ZM always said no because he thought it was impossible and impractical to have a pet with our busy lifestyles. So, I told him that a dog is really important to me, so please think about it. 

  That was years ago now. ZM laughs now at how my "think about it" went to "maybe" to "we are going to get a dog when our house is ready". 

  My moral of the story isn't "please listen to your wife" (although that would be ideal). But, you don't know how happy you can make someone you love feel by never closing the door on any of her or his dreams (however impractical or insane or subjectively bad). 

   I thought about it today when ZM took leave and we explored the streets. Walking for a whole good afternoon. I asked ZM if he thinks we have changed and he said "we've just become more comfortable". Not more comfortable with each other, but more comfortable in our material wealth (because we had nothing previously). 

   Sometimes, it's easier to have nothing, because we then only had each other, and nothing to fight about. It's always the wanting that causes conflicts. But, I like this too - this world-building where we figure out how each other's wants and needs can co-exist. 

   I would like to walk the world with you. 

I would like to be your final yes. 

Photography credits: Kelvin Koh (Lightedpixels) 

Kiraku Japanese Restaurant

Kiraku Japanese Restaurant
55 Market Street, Sinsov Building, #B1-01
Reservations: 64386428
Closed on Sundays and PH
Mon to Thurs & Sat: 11.30 am - 3 pm, 6-10.30 pm
Friday & Eve of PH: 11.30 am - 3 pm, 6-11 pm
Dinner - $60 per pax
Japanese
Pretty good sushi & extensive sashimi menu
Attentive Service

     ZM has been busier with work so I asked him to pick a dinner place near his workplace (Raffles Place area) for a simple dinner. He always picks Japanese (haha) because of me. ZM doesn't really like sushi or sashimi - so I always think it's rather a raw deal for him (pun intended).

   Kiraku is a relatively nice place to eat sushi - the ambience is quiet and elegant and you don't have the sushi tei crowd. The sushi is of a slightly higher level than Sushi Tei. I noticed that the wasabi is already put in the sushi, which led to a mouth of OMG after I dipped the sushi into my soy sauce with substantial wasabi. The tamago was light, fluffy and sweet - really good.

        I really recommend the Amaebi with Foie Gras - it's so good! Except it's $14 per piece.

         ZM had some udon thing which came in a huge ass bowl and saba fish. The saba fish had a nice texture but in my opinion, there were too many bones to make it enjoyable.

We also ordered the Kani Cream Croquette (snow crab) to share, but it was so incredibly creamy I couldn't taste the crab. 

   In all, this is really a sushi and sashimi place. There were 1 for 1 alcohol specials too and you could see a group of Japanese (always a sign of authenticity?) sitting outside on the tatami mat booths and kanpai-ing, which was kind of boisterous and cute. 

    I asked ZM if he would write some entries on my blog about our marriage. He refused. 

    "Ok. You miser. I'll help you write," I said. "So, from what you have experienced so far, what would be your first advice on marriage?" 

     "Choose the right wife." 

      "How do you choose the right wife?" I laughed. 

      "Gut feeling." 

       "That's very helpful. So what happens when you choose the wrong wife?" I asked.

       "Life sucks." 

your happiness

       Today is the ninth month anniversary of our marriage. Honestly, it feels so much longer - it feels like we have lived three lifetimes in the span of one. Nine is a special number - in chinese it sounds like 久， which is used to indicate a long span of time. We always wish a couple - may your love be 长长久久 - 长 indicates a long distance, so together it is wishing that the love crosses the distance of time and space.   

      And, of course, nine months is the complete cycle of pregnancy for a beautiful baby to be born. 

     It has been difficult for you. This road that we walked. You told your closest friends before marriage that I kept you sane - and you have had to watch your sanity careen from light to darkness, never returning completely intact. 

     If I could write down all that you have done for me, the world will decry it as a piece of fiction. It is too large a task - it would be like one trying to tabulate the stars. There are too many. And even if I managed to give them all a name, you have to see a star for yourself to see how it burns. Oh, the intensity of how it burns. 

     You pivot your world on me like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. 

      I tell you I'm sorry for receiving so much and being able to give so little. 

     You messaged me: 

Your happiness have been my wish, my mission and my purpose.

     

      You declare with the confidence of someone who has never been denied anything, "I know a good thing when I see one." 

      If love is unfair, let me spend the rest of my life evening out the equation. 

A Civil Contract

     Georgette Heyer is one of my favourite historical romance writers (if not the favourite), because she writes with such warmth, humour and understanding of what it is to be human. She is often known and recommended as Jane Austen with romance/ a poorer Jane Austen - and that was actually how I got to discover Georgette Heyer and how I introduced her to friends. But, the more I have read her novels, the more I find this a misnomer... because Georgette Heyer is I daresay, an original in her own right, she never repeats herself in any of her novels, and her gift for re-invention and the playing of tropes gives me real pleasure. I always feel, just before I open her novel, that I am going to have the most fun reading it, that I will never be dissatisfied (even when I have my favourites). That, as a reader, is often all I can ask from a writer.

   I was particularly moved by A Civil Contract and when it ended, I felt slightly out of breath, and smiled to myself, that was really beautiful. Roughly, the main character, Adam, returns from the war to inherit the title of Viscount Lynton from his just deceased father and finds his family "on the brink of ruin and the broad acres of his ancestral home mortgaged to the hilt". Thus, he cannot marry his first love, a beautiful blond romantic creation called Julia. Adam becomes engaged and subsequently married to "plain ol Jenny", the daughter of one of the richest man in the City, who wants to make a great social match for his daughter.

   A Civil Contract is simultaneously absorbing and frustrating - because you know this story in your heart, titled handsome man marries the plainer but more practical and wiser girl (who has always loved him and can take care of all his needs) while having already given his heart to a beautiful princess of a blonde (who loves herself more than him, never really loved him but only the person she imagined him to be, and could scarcely survive with her golden spoon in her mouth). You want it to turn out the way you envisioned satisfyingly - and it does pan out satisfyingly but never in the way you want it. And somehow, that feels the most true to life, gaining that happiness in the end, but not exactly how you envisioned it.

    Now, don't read the quote below if you don't want to know the ending:

    A little pang smote her; she wanted to ask him: 'Do you love me as much as you loved her?' She was too inarticulate to be able to utter the words; and in a minute, knew that it would be foolish to do so. Searching his eyes, she saw warmth in them, and tenderness, but not the ardent flame that had once kindled them when he had looked at Julia. She hid her face in his shoulder, thinking that she too had an impractical dream. But she had always known that she was too commonplace and matter-of-fact to inspire him with the passionate adoration that he had felt for Julia. Probably Adam would always carry Julia in some corner of his heart. She had been tiresome today, putting him out of love with her; but Jenny did not think that this revulsion would last. Julia stood for his youth, and the high hopes he had cherished; and although he might no longer yearn to possess her she would remain nostalgically dear to him while life endured.  

   Yet, after all, Jenny thought that she had been granted more than she had hoped for when she had married him. He did love her: differently, but perhaps more enduringly; and he had grown to depend on her. She thought that they would have many years of quiet content: never reaching the heights, but living together in comfort and deepening friendship. Well, you can't have it both ways, she thought, and I couldn't live in alt all the time, so I daresay I'm better off as things are.  

     ... She thought, and was comforted, that though she was not the wife of his dreams, it was her, not with Julia, that he shared life's little, foolish jokes. 

     Dear Husband, I am grateful to be both your Julia and Jenny. Which do you see in me at any one time? We are always changing, aren't we? But let's learn to always share in life's little jokes. After all, it would be nice as well, to be yours forever. 

things that still makes me laugh

#youperfectdorkofahusband

 
     "Why do you look so worried?" ZM asked.

     "Because I'm afraid I'm going to be the stupidest girl in my Feng Shui class tomorrow," I confessed.

     ZM laughed, "That's the silliest thing I ever heard."

    "If I was as smart as you, I would be fearless."

Happiness

     He is the happiest person I know. And, sometimes, just sometimes, his happiness is big enough for the two of us. 

Maastricht - Day 4 (Pilgrimage!)

    

      When I left Holland five years ago, I had one main regret. I did not visit the most beautiful bookstore I have ever heard of. It was only one hour away by train in Maastricht - but perhaps one always believe the places nearest to us will always be there. And then time flies, and you can't even take that one hour train to see it. 

     Maastricht is one of the larger towns in Holland, at the southern most part. It's the capital city of the province of Limburg in Holland. It's at the border near Germany, and I think that makes it feel a little different from the other more traditional dutch towns. It does feel more cosmopolitan and richer, like a dutch twist on Switzerland. 

    Apparently, Maastricht is derived from the latin Trajectum ad Mosam or Mosae Trajectum meaning "crossing at the Meuse". What I really liked about Maastricht is that it has a lot of its old historical city walls still intact. My recommendation is to buy a historical road itinerary/road map (about 1.60 euros) from the tourist office and enjoy the tour. It comes with a lot of information and tidbits about the history of the place, and increases the pleasure of a city walk immensely. I can only imagine how wondrous it would be in the Spring (I went in Spring but it was the coldest winter in 50 years, so I won't treat it as the norm) and Summer with all the markets out in full force. 

        

     

     At the end of the day trip, when we were back in our apartment in Utrecht, I had this immense warmth in my heart. I had finally resolved a regret from five years ago, I was here in Utrecht to fulfill my dream of taking wedding pictures in the place I fell in love. There, outside, lying like Homer Simpson on the sofa, was my husband, who have always sought to make my dreams come true. 

    I went over to hug him and said, "I don't think I will be able to live without you." 

    Homer ZM was still watching the tv and smiled. 

   "Will you let me go first?" I asked.

    ZM paused. 

    "Ok, but don't go too early." 

Maguroya

Stall 79, Lau Pa Sat
18 Raffles Quay
Opening Hours: 10.45 am to 2.30 pm, 5 to 8.30 pm (Mon-Sat)
Ranges from $8 to $22
Japanese
Well-priced sashimi sets & extremely yummy fish broth


  The most common question I get these days is "how is married life" and I usually give one of the three answers: (i) good, (ii) it's the same and (iii) we haven't moved into our home yet, so there isn't much of a change. As is much of life, it is far too complicated to be answered simply in five minutes during the lift or even during a span of a meal. When I was younger, I was often befuddled by these questions and struggled to answer - only because I wanted so sincerely to really express how I felt, but was let down by my own ability to express it.

  ZM and I make a much stronger effort to eat with each other every day than we did before. Before we were married, it would not be inaccurate to label us as a "weekend couple". Still, after marriage, you feel a sense of responsibility for the welfare of your other half and an almost sweet relief whenever you meet him, as if your brain is happy and goes ah, there you are, with all your limbs intact. Truly taking your bond as one flesh very seriously.

   On a whole, ZM doesn't enjoy seafood (gasp! travesty!) and was generally averse to raw fish. So, I'm always touched when he finds seafood and japanese places for us to eat at. I actually think he is starting to enjoy it in itself.

   The menu is a joy to read:

   Apparently, this stall was set up by quite a famous sashimi provider to restaurants - hence you get the same quality without the middle-men upping the cost. At this price, it's hard to find any other place that could beat this quality.

   My favourite, by far, was the fish broth. Sadly, one cannot get free re-fills (which sounds stingy to me). Also, the squiggly writings on the board "served with... LOVE" makes me laugh, because the stall is manned by two very stoic men who correct your japanese pronunciation robotically.

  After I finished my small serving of fish broth, ZM passed me his. I gave it back to him. We sickeningly pushed the soup to each other a few times, and then both drank it together. Perhaps for some couples, the answer is to buy more soup. But, I love sharing the little of what we have together.

  Be it, soup, raw fish or time. 

V

Surprise!

   I scheduled the post to be published when I'm in Bangkok. Although we have already celebrated and exchanged gifts, I thought I would leave you a note here since you self-proclaimed you read this once a day.

  Dad told me that one of the heart-felt things he had learnt from marriage was that one should never win an argument at the cost of the relationship. It seems like a natural truth but perhaps it is a truth difficult in execution. Still, you have always done it. You have always let me win. Especially when I'm unreasonable, especially when I'm ridiculous. You never take it to heart, never take it personally, you see me, in all my fullness, and embrace it.

   You see all my mistakes as beautiful.

   I want you to know that every day I try to be a better wife. I want to make you so very happy.

  Even now, I don't believe in the One. But, if I can only have one valentine, it will surely be you.

The Naked Finn

The Naked Finn
41 Malan Road
Gilman Barracks
For reservations: 66940807 (call only after 4 pm)
Dinner: $90-100 per pax (including wine)
Seafood
Simply perfect
1* Razor Clams

     I asked for a real date, where he will take me to somewhere nice, and we will both dress up like we need to impress each other. But life is a funny creature - every time you go out of your way and plan something, it seeks to surprise you. We both ran overtime on a Friday Night, which is rare for both of us, and only met at 8 pm, due to certain technical difficulties. We were emotionally ragged out by the time we met. He was especially tired, and angsty, which is extremely rare for him. So, I swallowed my own tiredness, which is rare for me, and sought to lighten his mood as we set off for our very long journey to a place unknown to me.

  The weather was lovely. The air was light. We sat outside. Feeling like we were amidst in nowhere. We ordered the Estella set for two ($128) and they served up this delicious white bee hoon dashed with lime and I knew it was going to be magic. We talked, and laughed, and prodded and joked, and had conversations as if we weren't married, and yet the softness, the understanding, that we were.

   After the meal ended, there was a moment, while walking under the orange lit street, where I thought how nice to be walking like this. And, I knew I had felt this way before, and, even better, I knew I would feel this way again. You took out your phone and opened an application. You held it above our heads, towards the sky, look, you can see the constellations above us. So, there we were, in our nice clothes, in the middle of the street, chin up, facing your tiny screen mapping out the connections for us. How far we have come, and how far more we must go.

   You told me this morning you were thinking of the razor clams. I asked if you wanted to go back again. You said we should go somewhere else. Indeed. We can't ever go back again. It will never be as good.

Inchmeal

Yesterday's word of the day was "inchmeal". What a beautiful word meaning "little by little", "gradually". Merriam-Webster says its origins are simple - the "inch" half is the familiar measurement and the "meal" is an old suffix that means "by a (specified) portion or measure at a time".

An inch is so small, but precious. Like the proverbial boy who placed his finger into the hole to prevent the dam from breaking - the inch, is your last breath of dignity. The inch is the space between me and you before we kiss.

People don't change suddenly. We change inchmeal, but see the change all at once. How we realise one day that some things no longer matter. Some people no longer disappoint. Inchmeal. We change.

How we realise someone has grown their way into our hearts. Little by little, becoming irrevocable. Inchmeal.

How, one day, I hope to turn to you, and tell you, a lifetime between us. Inchmeal.

"The One"

   Many people have asked me to write about my wedding. My proposal. My love story. But, in many ways, it feels like a story with no start nor end - for it begun even before we knew it, and the more you try and capture it, the further you get from the truth.

   I shall share my wedding dress story because perhaps it will help future blushing brides. For it shall propel the myth of "THE ONE". I've always loved lace. I think I've spent most of my youth dressed like a renegade grandmother. I didn't know a single thing about what I wanted for a wedding dress, but I knew I wanted it to be lace!

   Because ZM actually asked me to be his wife two months after we got together, and we actually planned when we were going to get married, I had very excitedly started to look for wedding gowns one or two years into the relationship. Clearly, a Bride-zilla in the making. So, I started to save lots of lovely things for future inspiration and ideas... and then proceeded to forget all about it when I actually started to prepare for the solemnisation ceremony.

  So, actually, it is a good idea to start looking at what you want very early on, such that by the time you actually start planning the actual thing, you have filtered down to what you really want - you and him and a simple promise.

  We went to the street along Tanjong Pagar road with all the bridal shophouses. We were just going to browse for fun to get an idea of the prices and designs. But, voila, as decisive as usual, we settled the gown the first time (this applies to everything else for our wedding - which perhaps explains why we are together, we think about it, we decide and don't ever look back). I actually found a gown I loved at the first shop - it was a mermaid cut with a really gorgeous lace pattern. But, ZM said we should at least see a few other shops to ascertain that we are not being fleeced.

  Hence, we walked down the street and tried three other shops. Nope. Abysmal. It was clearly the first shop with the over the top decadent victorian gown! So, we decided the fifth shop would be our last shop. It was really crowded and the sales assistant was far too busy to give us proper attention. I tried a few gowns and told ZM, let's pick the victorian gown.

   As we were leaving, I saw a plain gown at the corner of the shop. Hanging awry. Probably had just been tried on by someone. It was completely plain and nothing like any of the gowns I tried before. So, I decided to try it. The last gown I would try.

   Indeed, it was the last gown I would ever try. When I wore it, I knew. It was like I had came through an upside down tunnel and came out right.

   The interesting thing is that for this entry, I went to look at my old wedding gown inspirations, and it turned out that the pictures I've saved looked very much like the gown I picked in the end. So, perhaps, my story in the end is that when the mind forgets, the heart remembers. 

To my husband

I would like to be the air

that inhabits you for a moment

only. I would like to be that unnoticed

& that necessary. 

- Variations on the word sleep, Margaret Atwood

  

  Thank you for being the boy who found me at the crossroads when I was lost. You were lost too, but you said you felt as if you were found when you found me.

  Thank you for being you even when I tried to change you. For understanding that even while I loved you the way you were and are, I thought these changes would make you happier.

  Thank you for loving me. For loving me even though I was, am, a difficult person. For loving me because I am difficult.

   During my birthday week, I scarcely had time to think about my birthday. But, you slept on my couch every night, next to me, as I worked late into the night, sorting out the legal problems. At the end of each night/dawn, I would nudge you softly and say, "I'm done." And you would smile at me, and say, "Let's go to sleep."

   If love is an idea, you are my execution.

To have you is more than I could ever hold.

   I've been wanting to write this entry since November 30. It's probably never too wise to start writing an entry at midnight, especially after you have had quite a few glasses of white and red wine. But perhaps, wisdom never made for memorable entries, and it is when the heart takes over that the mind speaks.

   On November 30, the word of the day was "cathexis". It is a noun, defined as "the investment of mental or emotional energy in a person, object or idea". The Merriam-Webster gives an example from an essay by Margaret Brose in The Body in Early Modern Italy: "The veil that hides Laura and her eyes, her hair, her smile (and its counterpart, the glove that veils her hand) becomes the object of Petrarch's cathexis..." The example is particularly apt considering Petrarch's love poems are considered one of the finest examples of a sonnet - and what could be a better expression of the essence of a sonnet but the "investment of mental or emotional energy in a person, object or idea"?

   But what I really love is that "cathexis" comes from the Greek word, "kathexis", meaning "holding"; ultimately traced back to the Greek verb "echein", meaning "to have" or "to hold". To have and to hold. My breath disappeared. I felt a very real twinkling down my spine - from the brain, to my heart, through my lungs, rolling all the way to the bottom of my toes. I finally understood.

  In my wedding vow, I told him, he would be someone to have and to hold until the very end of my life. I titled the blog, to have and to hold. But, it wasn't until then, that very moment when I read the root of "cathexis" that I felt I knew what I had meant all along even before I understood.

  Even now, what is felt in my heart, I cannot fully express. It is not just to hold someone's hand till the end of your lives, never letting go, to hold all that is dear and true in your marriage in the bosom of your heart. It is to realise what you have, the unbelievable overwhelming magnitude of it all, to look at your hands and gaze in amazement of what you have. To shiver, literally, at what has been given. And to hold, oh to hold, palm to palm, like holy palmer's kiss. 

   I especially like that this word has such a beautiful Greek origin. I still remember him as the boy who couldn't leave me alone, as I determinedly set out to head to Greece to fulfill all my long-held desires - to see Epidaurus (the physical embodiment of the theatre of my dreams) and to gaze at all my childhood wonders. To head to Greece, we had to spend a lot of money, but more than that catch many connecting flights. We had to walk out into the darkness (no lit lamp-posts to guide us) at 3 am and trudge to the train station with all our luggages; always slightly worried some drugged-out person will attack us in the dark. But we did. We walked in the darkness, sat for hours in the cold, changed tons of connecting flights, buses, monorails, until we reached the middle of Athens. I was so happy, I thought I would burst into flames. You were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open. We have so many other moments, so many before, so many after, but I remember this so vividly. That in this world, I have you, and you would follow me anywhere, no matter how long the journey.

   That when we climbed up the stairs all the way up the theatre, I wondered how good the acoustics were. So, you ran down all the way till the bottom again, and you said can you hear me?

   
      Loud and clear.

In the spirit of joy

                                                From the tea ceremony at my house

When faced with two equal desires, I often in the end choose the path of duty. But, what happens when duties multiply? I think the biggest difference after being married is suddenly realising you are part of two households. You don't only create a life with someone else, you inherit a whole other world - full of history, blessings, possibilities and responsibilities.

It's not easy, especially when you have so many ideas of what it should be. But, ZM and I talked about it, and he said he will remember one thing I said which was, "We shouldn't think about how others are like. This is our relationship, and we can only make it the best we can be. Be the best that we are." And, I think that gives us space and courage to figure out what we would like our marriage to be, because it is something that is alive, and always changing.

I like this line about marriage I came across, "It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy." It's why I always loved the chinese word, 囍 － not only does it represent double happiness, the structure of it is firm and solid, like two people holding hands.

Always holding hands, because if this is how we started, this is how we always should be.