I met the husband, then a boy, fourteen years ago. We were from different ends of the island, we were from different schools, we had (vastly) different groups of friends & our paths were very different. But they crossed one day; which changed both our lives forever.
(May sound dramatic, but it’s my story and I’ll tell it how I like it. You then decide if it’s dramatic, or fate.)We met at Outward Bound School. We were both 16 & we were sent by our schools to partake in this adventure camp. We were in the same group, it was called Gandhi. Our group was made up of 10+ people, a co-ed group made up of students from three different schools. For four (or was it three?) days, the group stuck together playing games, eating, swimming, sleeping, getting to know one another & trying out different activities such as flying fox (my all time fave!), camping, canoeing (I remember I had a very bad allergy reaction and had sausage lips after eating some canned food one night). But I digress.
I think the husband and I were both attracted to each other already early on. He was a cute Chinese boy, very athletic & tanned. I was, well, this geeky tall girl with long hair and braces (ha! Every girl seemed to have braces then). I was gawky and not the most co-ordinated girl, especially in comparison to him. We struck it off rather well from the onset, and after the 4-day camp, we kept in touch. After the camp, I think Gandhi group attempted to stay in touch, but that didn’t succeed very well. The husband and I kept in touch though, and I think we both already knew that we were interested in each other.
It was months after this camp (6 months?) that we dated. For 6 months, we did the usual things that teens do when they dated. We did movies (a lot), we ate fast food (cheap food), we met each other’s friends, we hung out after school, we studied together (my bloody O levels) & well, we did movies (I said a lot, ok). It was fun, and I never took public transport so far before (he still lives in the same house today as then, and how amazing that today I’m living in that same room!). “Our” songs from the era were “PJ & Duncan”, “Celine Dion”, “Seal’s kissed by a rose”… I think my favourite was a song from All 4 One.
What impressed me about the husband then was how kind, generous & sporty he was. He played basketball a lot, he was on the school team, he cycled a lot, he was probably the healthiest, most active person I knew (I had limited male friends, coming from a girl’s school). He was always kind to me, he made me laugh, we never ever fought (one time, we ‘fought’ intentionally just to ‘spice things up’ hah!), he always sent me home & walked me right to the last step possible… he was always sweet. These traits still stand true today. He’s a very mature & stable version of what he was then.
That puppy love was not meant to be, and 6 months after it began, I got bored. Yes, I confess to the world that I was a fickle and myopic girl. I was about to embark on a different stage of my school life in a new environment with endless possibilities and a relationship held shallow meaning for me (then, no longer now please). I ended the relationship with the husband and till this day, I cross my heart & hope to die when I say that I never wanted to hurt him. I just was as ditzy and silly as a young girl could be. The husband wasn’t nasty, nor was he mean. He accepted the break-up and we parted our ways.
We stayed friends though, something that I wanted very much to remain. Because it wasn’t that the husband and I had fought or parted uglily, it was just, well, not meant to be. We were 16! And I say it again, I was truly as shallow & ditzy as a girl could be at that age. I wanted to party, I wanted to play, I didn’t truly understand the concept of a ‘relationship’ – my flimsy perception of it was that you spent tons of time together and enjoyed each other’s company. I headed overseas to study and despite that, we stayed in touch. Through all effort on my part, I daresay (
I dare you to refute this), I’ll ring him, I’ll write postcards, I’ll email. I’ll arrange to meet up for coffee to chat and catch-up when we could, the meeting up probably happened no more than 5 times? We sometimes met up at night spots if we happened to be in the same area (though I think this really happened only once) Generally, I made the effort mostly because I’m friendly and sociable by nature, and when you’re my friend, well, that’s what friends do right? They keep in touch. But partly because I had a soft spot for the husband. This was a man that I liked and hung out tons with, and never ever made me upset. That made him special.
Fast-forward this sporadic, platonic friendship to December 2004. The husband and I were both working. I cannot remember exactly, but I think I probably rang him randomly (as always) & we decided to meet up. It was in Orchard, and I first sighted him in the midst of my errand and I spied him from the corner of my eye as I was standing at the counter. He was in a cap of sorts (I forget the actual name of it), a long-sleeved black Nike top & berms. I was, I forgot what I was wearing but that's not important. As always, I was happy to see him and we had coffee across the road from Ngee Ann City, where we met. We talked, and shared our life stories. Both of us were single at that point in time, and both of us were pretty much down in the dumps. I think I was probably in a worse-off state than he was, but we were both single and very much scalded.
I remember feeling all fuzzy and excited meeting up with him. But I had just broken up right? Men are off-limits! And so it began. This internal emotional turmoil that I went through, with this man so nice & available who’s there with/for me, yet me not wanting to get into anything serious. We hung out. A lot. We laughed and played and had fun. It was also tough on me emotionally and after a whole year (or more?) of unsettledness, of me pushing the husband away despite him being there with me, I gave into what had felt right all along. Needless to say, because of all my emotional baggage, the first two years of our relationship was pretty (damn) rocky. But it was also through those years that the husband proved himself to me. He gave me confidence, he built my strength and belief in love, in men, in relationships. This probably set the foundation of our relationship right and sturdy.
After three years of “real” dating (hey, I’m older and slightly wiser by now please), he proposed. I’m a lucky girl and I daresay I probably had the WORLD’S best proposal. We’ve been married two years & 11 months (3rd anniversary next month!) & we have a baby girl too. I thank my lucky stars that I have this man that I can rely on, whom I love and who loves me for who I am.
To the husband, I was inspired to write our story for the world to know how awesome you are. We have a great story to tell and I want to always remember it. I want to tell people about it. Most importantly, it’s simply awesome that we have anything to tell. We’ve had good times and bad times, and every bit of time is worth spent with you, because it’s what makes us. For no reason at all, I just want to say I Love You.