Relationship

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92 articles in category Relationship / Subscribe

My Mom always says that what I want from life today will be different to what I’ll want in one, two years’ time. As one grows older, so does her view in life. While I don’t appreciate being told that I’m-still-a-kid-and-I-don’t-know-what-decision-I’m-making kind of thing, deep down I know it’s true.

While having a catch-up session with my Melbourne friends the other day, we talked a bit about relationship. Mind you, I haven’t had a relationship talk for quite a while. Like, two or three years ago I was talking a lot about relationship, and even to this day I still receive some emails from strangers asking me for advice. While I’m not sure if I’m adequate enough to give an advice to someone, I find myself realising this simple truth: My advices, and my take on relationship, over time, change.

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Pam couldn’t stop biting her nails.

She had left this habit long ago in high school when the boys made fun of her. But today, especially today, she needed those nails back. It provided her with the familiarity that life was still what once it was. She needed to know that.

She sat there on the chair, legs crossed, eyes straight ahead. She couldn’t make what the young woman on the podium was saying. She couldn’t concentrate. Pam was biting her right nails, and her left hand squeezed a sheet of paper. She counted to ten. And again. And again. But she couldn’t help not thinking, couldn’t help not feeling.

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Ever since I discovered the haunting Hunger Games song by Taylor Swift last week, I have been infatuated with the trilogy all over again. It’s funny, because I didn’t fall in love with the series at the first sight.

In fact, reading my old reviews, I only give the books 3.5 rating. I remember being annoyed at Katniss for breaking down so many times throughout the second and third book, and how she couldn’t really decide between Peeta and Gale.

I guess, just like Finnick’s love for Annie, it creeps on me.

One particular part of the book that never leaves me is this: “You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him.”

This.

Which gets me thinking: do we deserve love?

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My first viral post aired last week with an expectation of having ten likes on Facebook. In five days, it has garnered over 40k views, over 9k Facebook likes, and over 3k picture tweets. It has caused my blog’s database server to undergo a rollercoaster ride – going up and down frequently over the first two days due to an overload of traffic.

Looking back, I never knew what I wrote would strike a chord to so many people. I wrote this post as a thank you letter to my boyfriend who always walks me home every time we go out. It doesn’t matter if it’s late, or if he’s tired, he always refuses not to send me home. He always wants to make sure that I’m safe and sound, and he does this even though he lives quite far – traveling one hour plus back to his place using public transport.

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Date someone who walks you home. Someone who doesn’t mind taking the long route, the detour, the extra hour from the comfort of home. Someone who feels better if he knows that you’re safe and sound, before he kisses you goodnight and starts his other journey alone.

Date someone who walks you home. Who doesn’t do it when it’s convenient for him to do so, but who does it even though he needs to travel one hour and fifteen minutes back to his own place without the comfort of a car. Someone who does it, because he cares.

Date someone who walks you home. Someone who knows you are old enough to take care of yourself and to go back by your own, only to say no everytime you suggest he doesn’t need to send you home tonight. Date someone who sends you home not because he tries to be a gentleman, or has to become one, but because he wants to.

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I remember how you made me feel when I went to sleep last night.

It was happiness, but not like being-excited-happiness, which can go away as easily as it can come. No, it was more of being-peaceful-happiness, which made you smile as it caressed you until you drifted from reality.

It was like being comfortable in each other’s silence. It was like feeling the gentle wind kissing your cheek. It was like riding a car with the radio on while holding each other’s hands. It was like a small kiss planted on the back of your hand.

It was happiness.

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I love you even though you are almost always late to our dates, prolonging my agony to not have more time with you as every drop of the minutes we have is precious.

I love you even though you are sensitive, because that’s where your charm lies. Your sensitivity towards me and others makes you such an understanding man.

I love you even though our paths are not always smooth, even when we go through bumpy rides. Somehow, we always make it through.

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It hurts like hell, I know.

I am here listening to you, and yet I can’t give you any shoulder to lean on. I can’t hug you and tell you that everything’s gonna be alright.

I don’t know the right words to say. Nor the right things to do. I can’t tell you what to do next, or even suggest things for you to do, because really, they are not going to help. They are just words. What you need right now is much, much more than that.

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You make me so, so happy.

So happy.

Even when you woke me up from my power nap as I was sitting in the MRT because you saw an elderly who required a seat. Yes, you didn’t exactly make me happy back then – my feet were crying in agony as it had been a long day. But all in all, I am happy. I have a boyfriend who genuinely cares about others.

For three weeks, there wasn’t a single time when you didn’t send me home, despite the fact that I live one and a half hour away from your place. You make total sure that I am back home safe and sound before you head to your long journey home.

And I am so, so happy.

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You’ve fought for me when I was down, when I was still searching my way out. You’ve fought for me even at the times when I didn’t deserve to be fought for. You still fight for me through thin and thick, and you’ve helped me found myself once again.

Thank you.

Thank you for being you. Thank you for believing in me when I’ve lost confidence in myself. Thank you for loving me when I didn’t deserve it at all.

Thank you, for choosing me.

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