Friday, September 26, 2008
Are you dying or what??
Ever since I've known my wife, she seems to be dying. Okay...maybe not DYING per se, but there is ALWAYS some health issue that she HAS to tell me about. It might be her eyes (Are they red? I think I have cataracts!) to her head (I think I have a migraine coming on!) to her ankles (My ankles are fat. Is there corrective surgery for that?) to her stomach (Ugh...my stomach aches today. Maybe I should see a gastroenterologist.) If there is an ache or a pain, she's got it and she has to complain about it. Seriously, it would be nice just one morning to see her get out of bed without any issues. But after 14 years...I doubt that is EVER gonna happen.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
First
It was a Valentine ’s Day, warm and sunny, excitement rippling through the patio as everyone went round bellowing about the flowers each had exchanged. We sat there, my friends behind you, wanting to know what was happening, your friends behind me, coaxing you into doing it.
I had been waiting for so long and finally the moment came. Finally, after all those months of yearning, you asked.
“Yes” I replied, shyness betrayed in my voice. I was delighted, elated that you had done it on this precise day. In my 13 year old mind, it was entirely romantic. “Are you sure?” you ventured in a small voice. It shocked me. What did you mean by that, how could you not be immediately excited by my answer? My expression must have shown my outrage because you quickly added “I want you to think about it, I mean, I don’t want you to change your mind later”. I wanted to tell you that I had already thought about it. That it had been 3 months since I knew I liked you and you liked me and I had been waiting for this moment for ages. But I obviously didn’t. I just sighed. “I’m sure”. I said, smiling. “Really”.
You were my first boyfriend. You were always quite blunt and shocking. You used to tell me things just to watch my bafflement and reaction. I had no idea what to do about you, but it did not matter. You were exciting.
There is one day I remember with the most fondness. We were walking across the Shopping Centre. That place where all of us went on Friday afternoons to casually meet; boys and girls enjoying our precious freedom, afternoons away from the prodding eyes of our parents. You and I lagged behind, agreeing to meet the others by the ice cream store in 10 minutes. All of a sudden, as if in slow motion, your fingers touched mine and in an instant I felt a delicious zap of energy rippling furiously through my arm. It was all wrong -you were a lot taller than me, and my hand twisted under yours uncomfortably- but I did not dare to let go for fear it would not happen again. It was such an intense feeling; it spread all over the place, every cell in my body responding to this new experience. This was the first time a boy held my hand and it was so much better than I ever imagined it could be. I don’t know why I reacted this way, maybe I had been reading too many young adult romances.
Our relationship only lasted about 3 months. We were too different, too young. I broke your heart, and for a long time you seemed to hate me. But I would like you to know that I have never felt that instant zap again. I have felt other things, also lovely and intense when I have had other ‘firsts’, but that electricity was unique. Thank you for giving me that. I will always remember it.
I had been waiting for so long and finally the moment came. Finally, after all those months of yearning, you asked.
“Yes” I replied, shyness betrayed in my voice. I was delighted, elated that you had done it on this precise day. In my 13 year old mind, it was entirely romantic. “Are you sure?” you ventured in a small voice. It shocked me. What did you mean by that, how could you not be immediately excited by my answer? My expression must have shown my outrage because you quickly added “I want you to think about it, I mean, I don’t want you to change your mind later”. I wanted to tell you that I had already thought about it. That it had been 3 months since I knew I liked you and you liked me and I had been waiting for this moment for ages. But I obviously didn’t. I just sighed. “I’m sure”. I said, smiling. “Really”.
You were my first boyfriend. You were always quite blunt and shocking. You used to tell me things just to watch my bafflement and reaction. I had no idea what to do about you, but it did not matter. You were exciting.
There is one day I remember with the most fondness. We were walking across the Shopping Centre. That place where all of us went on Friday afternoons to casually meet; boys and girls enjoying our precious freedom, afternoons away from the prodding eyes of our parents. You and I lagged behind, agreeing to meet the others by the ice cream store in 10 minutes. All of a sudden, as if in slow motion, your fingers touched mine and in an instant I felt a delicious zap of energy rippling furiously through my arm. It was all wrong -you were a lot taller than me, and my hand twisted under yours uncomfortably- but I did not dare to let go for fear it would not happen again. It was such an intense feeling; it spread all over the place, every cell in my body responding to this new experience. This was the first time a boy held my hand and it was so much better than I ever imagined it could be. I don’t know why I reacted this way, maybe I had been reading too many young adult romances.
Our relationship only lasted about 3 months. We were too different, too young. I broke your heart, and for a long time you seemed to hate me. But I would like you to know that I have never felt that instant zap again. I have felt other things, also lovely and intense when I have had other ‘firsts’, but that electricity was unique. Thank you for giving me that. I will always remember it.
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