Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
I never thought that thinking in terms of two instead of one would be hard work.
I thought that when you find that someone you would want to spend the rest of your life with, you’d live happily ever after. But the past month made me strengthen my resolve to never let any of my offspring touch fairy tale books until they’re teenagers! All that nonsense about castles, crowns and gowns can be misleading.
Through Pat, I found out that I can get mad unreasonably. I would get angry on the smallest details like his status in Friendster or the way he explains about “us” to his friends. (Friendster is a shallow reason to fight about, period.)
Through him, I experienced firsthand how men can be so dense. When I want something from him I have to spell it out directly and s-l-o-w-l-y to him instead of sulking and waiting for him to pick up. It took me awhile before I realized this but when I did, everything became a whole lot easier. Like if I want him to follow whichever part of Manila I am, I should tell that to him directly. As a motivation to do as he’s told, I warn him that if he doesn’t follow, I’ll take great pleasure in strangling his neck until he stops breathing.
But fighting can be fun too. After every fight, he would be extra sweeter to me. He would bring chocolates (always with nuts) and act all apologetic. I could say anything and ask him to do anything for me. Hugs and kisses are extra sweeter after a fight.
Of course, there’s also the matter of me so used to leading a single life. I was so used to going to places without informing anyone or considering if that person might want to be with me today or not. I was so used to spending all my extra time going out with friends.
Not that I need to ask permission from him or anything like that. But the fact that I have to check to him first or inform him where I’d be spending the next few hours or so took a while getting used to. The fun thing about that is I also get the same privilege.
“That’s what couples do!” says all my friends who are in a relationship. People are already starting to ask me where Patrick is if I go to an event alone. I am one-half of a love team.
Strangely, I like it.
I like giving him the first bite of my dessert. I like waking up to his morning greetings and sleeping after his “goodnights.” I like going to new places and trying out new food with him. I like snuggling close to him in a movie house if we’re watching a horror flick or kissing him when it’s a romantic one. I like walking in the mall holding his hand as if I can’t walk on my own.
I like talking about our future family and planning where we would live for the next 50 years. I like talking about who would cook the food, clean the house and bathe the kids. I like talking about how many kids we would have some day. I talk about all these, and it doesn’t scare him one bit.
I’m starting to sound like I’m domesticated. But I like it.
Happy monthsary, bebe! I hope we last another month without killing each other.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home