Relationship

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92 articles in category Relationship / Subscribe

Some show their love through a hundred red roses. Some buy her ice cream even when he tells her to lose weight. Some walk her home. Him?

He went to his boss and said, ‘I need to change my leave – from Friday to Tuesday.’

He understood when she didn’t able to come home to him that Tuesday, and he waited for her, again.

He woke up on Saturday morning, excited, and braved the traffic.

And when he finally saw her for the first time in months, he smiled, rushed towards her, took her bulging luggages, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered.

And so she beamed, and wondered if she could ever be even more loved than this.

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All my childhood years I grew up knowing for sure that love is enough. Disney movies make me believe that when the Prince comes – the Prince who loves you and fights for you, life will be happily ever after after all. Hollywood romantic comedies all emphasise that whatever happens, whatever problem we are facing, if it’s love, it’ll find a way.

Like, you know, love will triumph against all odds.

The Bible tells me so too. The greatest among faith, love, and hope is love. Love is enough. It is.

Unless it isn’t.

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“If she’s worth it, she’s worth it.”

A reader posted these words on one of my posts which I really agree to. I have said this to a lot of people too many times. If someone tells me their love stories, the first thing I’ll ask is, “Is he worth it? Is he worth all the risks, pain, and troubles?” And if I get an ambiguous answer, well, we all know what that means.

Before all the troubles of analysing, thinking, and processing a relationship, I want people to be sure that the other party is definitely worth it. Even if the relationship doesn’t work out in the end, they will still say I’m glad I go through all these troubles, for he is worth it. I want to make sure.

Too many times people are not.

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Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘I know I’ve done something right’?

It’s a sense of achievement, of accomplishment. We may have done hundreds of mistakes but looking at the fruits of our labours, we also know we have done something right. And something good will be unveiled from that. We’ve done something right, and somehow, our lives have worth.

This post is for my parents.

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I don’t know, it’s just gone.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know? Wha- What happened?’

He sighed. He had said the same thing twice and he didn’t know how to soften the blow any better. He avoided her eyes. ‘My feelings are gone.’

Lizzy forced herself to look him in the eyes, hopelessly trying to find something – hesitation, guilt, a spark of feeling, anything. She could only find hatred. ‘Why?’ she finally asked.

‘I just don’t love you anymore,’ he said it as a matter of fact. There was no remorse, not even a single hint of longing. Nothing. He gave her that flat sentence, finally ecstatic that he had said the thing he had wanted to say for the past month. Then he walked away.

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It all started on that rainy day.

I was running home from work and as I always had bad luck, that day was the only day I forgot my umbrella. Only really, I didn’t forget to bring one. I lent it yesterday to a colleague because she was too scared that the unseen rain would ruin her hair, so I gave her my umbrella and walked away.

It didn’t rain yesterday.

So I was running home, using my soaked-to-life brown leather bag to cover my head. Taking the usual route, I would go pass this bridge of love where lovers, tourists, soon to be exes, and new couples bought fancy locks and keys to declare their love for each other.

Obviously, I didn’t buy that. If there was a research, I bet 87 per cent of these people have broken up.

And that, was when I met him.

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I sent my Mom to the airport yesterday (she was going to Singapore to cuddle my baby nephew for me) and one sentence popped into my mind: “She is beautiful.”

She has that glow – a glow that all mothers have, and she is just graceful. No, not because of her clothes, nor physical appearance. She just is.

Yet, my Mom was going with a heavy heart because this time, I couldn’t accompany her to Singapore, nor would I accompany her for the months and years to come. Inside, I felt sad myself. My parents would lose their youngest daughter, yet again.

I’m moving.

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