I love love love love love my husband.

Absolutely no regrets whatsoever.

It was the stress talking.

I NEED to trust him. 

Bubu often shares that he can tell waht will happen before it will happen, and it is frustrating, amusing and tiring for him to try to caution others against consequences they have yet to foresee. I often felt the same, and although i did not feel that i was able to think ahead as quickly as he could, I thought that I understood what he was saying, and he was at least able to find some solace with me.

After nine months of marriage and more bust-ups than we ever had in the year when we were dating, I now realise that many things he has said about me, even though hard to bear or even unfair, are quite true and have a bearing on my life, his, and most importantly of all, our life together.

it is not easy swallowing humble pie, especially if it comes from someone who knows all your weaknesses, is trying to help you become a better person, and is himself trying to fight his own inner demons. the funny thing is, whenever anyone asks me about my husband or what i think of married life, i can only think of good things. the fact that this occurs to me so naturally and spontaneously makes me believe that i’m not making things up or trying to present only a happy facade to others. indeed, i usually cannot remember why we fight or how we fight once things are cleared up, although each successive battle makes me more and more aware of how i’m not living the way i want to, and i can’t keep promises because i have no idea where and what i stand for (i do, on weighty issues such as abortion or crime, but i don;t seem to have quite decided how i wish to live my life). and this explains why i seem to be able to bring joy to others but seldom myself. i totally understand Bubu’s frustrations, and it must be hell living with someone who seems to rock on operate on the whims of fancy. i feel that he’s a lot like that too, but he is mercurial and broody. what am i? i think i’m just a confused wannabe, fitting in everywhere and nowhere. for a brief spell in teenagehood and early adulthood that was cool, as there was this dynamism that being on the fringe brought, but as i step into my late twenties more so than ever i come to realise why we need to have an identity and a defined sense of self, in order to feel secure and have dreamless sleep and not look back in anger, misery or worst, regret, in our twilight years.

i took a long hard look at myself, deep within where it’s dark murky and fairly disgusting, and realised a few reasons why my marriage, although wonderful and enriching, is still suffering some teething problems:

1. in many ways, i’m still behaving like i’m single. and before i came to this realisation, no wonder Bubu would feel let down whenever i spent money or didnt do something as promised and i was genuinely amazed at his reaction. i felt he was overreacting and simply failed to understand why he was disappointed or upset. the thing is, although we are free to pursue our interests as individuals, being in a marriage also means we are a unit, and before i do something i need to consider the feelings of my spouse, not assume i know how he would feel. this is tricky at times, and i must say he;’s a lot better at taking care of my interests and feelings, since i feel very loved and secure. i made the mistake of being more concerned about my own wants rather than his. and when i couldn’t get i wanted, i blamed it on his insensitivity, his stupid principles, his fixed way of viewing the world on his terms, his inability to understand what i needed—that fact that i was anxious and depressed and lonely to him, just meant that i had to get my act together. and that was a bitter pill to swallow, although it was indeed the only way forward. i think i am spoilt after all. deep down, beneath all my niceness, i am a brat, the only saving grace is that i have learnt to empathise with others and to care that they are happy too, and that keeps my nastiness in check.

To be continued…

Physical pain doesn’t last for very long. I thought that I’d blog about it while the events are fresh in my memory. After all, sensations focus on the present and the immediate, and what we remember of things past are just what our brain has chosen to process or focus on.

On 27 April at 2pm, I was at the clinic, ready to remove my wisdom tooth. The poor tooth had a big hole in it, caused by a cavity, and its root was impacting upon my second molar. I had waited nearly two months for this surgery as I didn’t feel able to afford taking a week’s medical leave. I will never be so foolish again.

The dentist has a poor bedside manner, but he is efficient and he explained the procedure to me clearly. Throughout the operation, he also made attempts to sooth my frazzled nerves by patting my head awkwardly and telling me that I was doing well. I appreciate his efforts although his tone and lack of eye contact made it slightly difficult for me to relax completely. I also thought he was too gruff with the dental assistant so I smiled at her.

To begin with, I was not really frightened. I had, after all, arranged to visit the dentist and then to return home to rest alone. And I knew that the local anesthesia would prevent me from feeling any pain. Unfortunately, there is a lot of pressure because of the muscles in the gum surrounding the teeth, so there was still an incredible, forced tightness when he cut up my tooth and extracted it. I must have started to panic as I remember forcing myself to breathe in an out deeply and looking everywhere around the room except into the faces of the dentist and his assistant. There was whirring and buzzing sounds, and the cracks and pops from my mouth were certainly unsettling.

Fortunately, he managed to complete the operation successfully, and I received two large portions of my tooth as a souvenir. I understand why people are frightened by visits to the dentist. You cannot see what’s going on, and the instruments that the dentist wields all make strange discomfiting machine noises, and the unknown is often what scares us. The jaw ache from having to hold one’s mouth open for a long time is never pleasant either.

What affected me most about my experience though was not being able to gargle and swallow. Something as simple, natural and important as smiling, or speaking; laughing, chewing or swallowing, became strenuous as I had little control over my facial muscles, still numb and cramp and rubbery from the injections. I drooled and dribbled like a stroke patient, water leaked out from my nostrils when I tried to swallow and I felt incredibly ugly, thinking my left cheek had swollen to thrice its size although a check in the toilet later on revealed that the swelling was in fact slight. I immediately wished that Bubu was around to hold my hand, and I blinked back tears while the dentist patted my shoulder awkwardly and shooed me out after informing me that taking a taxi shouldn’t be a problem since I hadn’t lost my ability to speak.

On the long journey back, I bit on the piece of gauze and hoped that the numbness would go away. Unfortunately, the bleeding did not stop till much later, and the numbness was replaced by an awful pain that even Ponstat could not alleviate. Even lying down or swallowing the tasty fish porridge Bubu had bought took a heck of an effort. I wished that I would just die, what with the throbbing in my mouth, my lack of strength and the phantom pain in my now hollow gum.

Luckily for me, adequate rest and the meds meant that on Saturday I was able to eat bread, laugh at Bubu’s antics, play with Babo and swallow un-self-consciously. I am thankful that I managed to make it to Ikea, and sit here typing without being too mindful of my wound. The stitches above my newly formed soft, raw and tender gum are quite interesting to lick, and I think my husband’s been the mostly lovely nurse I could have.

I give blood regularly, fell down a flight of bus steps forehead-first when I was six, twisted both ankles twice in my teenage hood, skinned my knees and elbows and calves on several occasions, was hospitalized for a week for a viral infection, had an op to remove scar tissue from my chin, and I remember that it all felt terrible but I made it through and I cannot really feel anything even if I say that I remember all those experiences being excruciating. Frankly, I cannot imagine how people recover from broken thigh bones or having four wisdom teeth taken out all at once. But I suppose, as I mentioned at the start of my long essay, physical pain goes away, so I am quite certain that in two week’s time I will hardly feel anything much about the gap in my mouth (pun fully intended). Since mothers all claim that childbirth the second or third time around is always significantly easier, I live in the hope that extracting my other lower wisdom tooth will be a less significant event. And that someday I’ll not chicken out at the prospect of childbirth.

http://www.astrology-numerology.com/num-lifepath.html#lp7

My life path number is 7 and Bubu’s 5. We’re supposed to be extremely compatible. And although these numerology things are just for fun, it’s nice to see the descriptions fitting quite well.

Remember being very taken with the whole idea in Secondary school before promptly forgetting all about it (as with so many other trivia, trivial things). But still, as I said, it’s nice to get some sort of reaffirmation from an unlikely source

Which, I suppose, is why a friend reads astrology.com religiously everyday. We all need something to believe in, to take our cues from, to guide us, to hold steadfast to, to give us hope. Especially when it comes to something as nebulous as love, and something as intangible as luck. Who doesn’t want to be LUCKY in LOVE?

So dearest Bubu. We CAN be a dynamic duo. We have the synergy, the charm and the wit (keke). What we need now is the desire, passion, patience and strength to go onward, forward, toward the life waiting for us. Even if it’s just becomign damn good gardeners, I’d be happy

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Aquarius and Libra

When Libra and Aquarius join in a love match, their relationship can serve to heighten and strengthen both Signs’ consciousness. These two connect on a high mental level; they share a love of art, people and culture; they both abhor restrictive influences in their lives. They are likely to get along well because they have such similar needs and will not require more of one another than they’re both willing to give. Both Signs are also very energetic, enthusiastic types; this relationship is not likely to become stagnant.

Both Aquarius and Libra are concerned with the betterment of the world and their fellow people. Aquarius is the most progressive thinker of the Zodiac, and they always have a new idea in the works. Libra is the diplomat of the Zodiac; abhorring conflict of any sort, they are born balancers (hence their Symbol, the Scales). Libra’s urge to avoid conflict put together with a love of intellectual freedom can lead them to be somewhat indecisive at times; when this happens, more decisive Aquarius can step in and help Libra figure out which direction to turn. Libra can return the favor by smoothing Aquarius’s occasionally ruffled feathers that result from the Water Bearer’s idealistic thinking sometimes crashing down in the face of reality.

Libra is ruled by the Planet Venus (Love) and Aquarius is ruled by the Planets Uranus (Rebellion) and Saturn (Karma). This combination of influences can be an interesting and productive one; Libra and Aquarius should certainly take on other projects together than simply their love relationship, because they can make great things happen using their hearts, their urge for progress and their consciousness of the greater good. These two are an extraordinary duo for standing up for social justice or radical change in the community.