The Man Destined to be Yours

I am a romantic fool. I have always believed that there is someone out there destined for each of us. “THE” man God or the universe will send him one day and he will land right on your lap.

It’s a foolish fantasy, I know. I know enough divorcees, widows and single folks out there to know that it doesn’t work that way. But yet, I hold out some hope that perhaps the universe does work in foolish ways. And I hold out hope that Jane’s bazhi reading and Vincent’s tarot card reading will come through for me (both readings say I will meet my companion for life around age 32). Readings are no guarantee, I know, I know.

Well, if it is true that I don’t have someone destined for me, then I should be in panic mode. I have not done much. I am still bumming around a couple of guys who are not ready for any long-term relationship. Part of the problem is I am not ready for one either.

Friends in their late 30s are showing signs of desperation. A friend of mine has already resorted to “speed dating”. Some girlfriends are hanging on dearly to whatever they have. Should I join the bandwagon before it’s too late?

But how do you rush something like this. If it’s meant to happen, it will.. right? Even if you rush it , force it, push it, there are too many factors beyond your control – timing in your life, timing in his life; your needs, his needs; your hopes, his hopes; your path, his path, your character , his character; plus the whole fuzzy area called “the future”.

There is no way to answer this question. There is no way to take control of fate in this regard. To attempt so would be frugal, too exhaustive, too consuming and too desperate.

So I guess I can only pray hard that destiny will deal you a man and not deal you’re a blow.

Tolerance

It’s amazing how we can be so tolerant of total strangers; yet so intolerant of the people we care most. The root cause of this phenomenon – EXPECTATIONS.

I was Julia Roberts

I woke up at Ascott this morning. Dressed in a white robe, I had my morning coffee at the balcony of Ascott, looking up the impressive KLCC towers. It was like living the Julia Roberts – Pretty Woman fantasy.

And for the first time in my life, a man cooked me breakfast. Not just toast, but the whole she-bang. It was a wonderful night and nice, warm morning.

Midnight Comforts

I had a nightmare a couple days back. I was at Mark’s. I was dead tired after my Singapore trip and I was talking in my sleep.

Mark woke me from it, kissed me, and hugged me. It was nice. I have never been woken up from a nightmare before. Most times, you watch it play in your head till the end, only to wake yourself up in fear, in cold sweat, in a scream or never wake at all.

I felt protected. It was comforting. It’s nice to know that someone is there for you. So that’s what it’s like to have someone next to you in bed every night.