When I moved back to singapore, I started a diary with the intention of it serving as a written anthropological record of my transition back home. I had completed a class ( I hesitate to say course since course implies I actually learned more than I actually did and that I know how to apply what I learned) in social medicine which involved anthropological research.
Of course things are always easier said than done. First of all, daily record keeping is <i>brutal</i>. Having to be objective about your observations and feelings is a whole other level of impossible. Needless to say I gave up pretty quickly.
And now, I’m planning for a future that is mostly built on air. I’m fairly practical. Most of the time. I know he isn’t perfect. Heck, sometimes he doesn’t even try that hard to change for the better. But with a bit of prodding, he tries. And he does it for me. What more can I ask for? Sure, I can marry the perfect guy who has the ‘right’ qualifications. I can marry the guy who has his life more figured out, but then I’ll spend the rest of my life either in an unspoken competition with my mate (because let’s face it, most intellectuals are secretly competitive) or I’ll feel like a stupid sidekick who’s going to go with whatever her husband says. With him, well, I know where I stand. I know when I back down on certain things, I do it because I love him, not because I fear him or that I fear losing him.
Now the question is: how do we get back together? We are still together, but we are separated by an ocean and two continents.