It's the time of year for hearts, flowers and blog entries denouncing the prominence of hearts and flowers on V-Day. A few days ago, I read an article in that vein by regular New Paper columnist Ivy Ong-Wood which prompted a moment's reflection. It was about a couple she knew who were getting divorced before their 3rd anniversary.
Apparently "marriage killed all romance", where Romance = sending her flowers + taking her to nice restaurants + champagne on private yachts.
Ivy's idea of romance was more mundane, found in everyday actions like her husband going out at 2am to buy kway teow soup for her. That's not far off from my parents' own philosophy; every day is Valentine's Day for them. (Aww... so gross) Once, we were in Paris standing on the steps of the Sacre Coeur on Montmarte Hill, overlooking arguably one of the most romantic views in Europe. I asked them, "Isn't this romantic?" And my father replied, "Yes but your mother and I can be romantic anywhere." (Aww... ew gross)
Turning back to my own relationship, I think if I asked Jamie to go out and buy a specific, hard-to-find dish like kway teow soup, he'd probably tell me to go stuff myself or snack on something healthy like fruit instead since I'm always complaining about being fat. Come to think of it, getting your boyfriend to fetch food for you in the middle of the night seems to be a remarkably Singaporean characteristic. One memorable example of this is a piece of gossip I heard concerning a SGean boy who went to Oxford and was so pussywhipped by this SGean girl he fancied that he would ride his bicycle for miles into town during winter, at night, in the dark, to the MacDonald's just to satisfy her craving for a burger. His name was Philbert, by the way, which might explain things a bit.
Don't get me wrong though, I like romantic gestures, flowers and diamonds as much as the next girl. Especially diamonds. But at the risk of sounding smug, I don't need any of the above from my boyfriend as proof of his love because I already know he loves me.
Here, I'll count the ways:
1. Moving Out For Me
He basically moved all 8 boxes of my stuff into storage at his house for me. Of course I helped but he did most of the heavy lifting.
2. Letting Me Crash In His Room For 3 Weeks During Exams
We didn't fail though.
3. Finding A Flat For Us
Walking around viewing flats in the London chill until his feet blistered and he got the flu. Just so I could spend chinese new year with my family.
4. Moving In For Me
Moving all my boxes into the new flat from his home which is 3 hours drive away on treacherous snowy roads.
5. Braving My Parents + Making Them Like Him
Convinced them that he wasn't a despicable ang moh out to deflower and exploit their innocent daughter.
6. Learning Some Chinese
He has learnt the words
Shark
Enemy
Cockroach
Danger
and
Vampire
He also speaks a bit of Singlish.
7. Resigning Himself To The Fact Of Bolbol
'Nuff said.
