like a version

We watched “I Love You, Man” over the weekend, and this quote from the movie struck a wistful chord with me: "You've dated a lot of women; what makes you think that she's The One you want to marry?” 

I've had my fair share of boyfriends, each different from the next, but they all had one or all three superficial commonalities: tall, in the IT industry, and named David. Coincidences, I promise. When Dave and I first met, I nicknamed him D3 to avoid confusing my friends, who were losing track of the Davids in my life. Dave jokes that his biggest fear is the arrival of D4, as I trade him in for an upgrade. But honestly, D3 isn’t just another version. Apart from sharing a name, occupation, and height with my previous boyfriends, the similarities end there. For starters, Dave is my first  Christian boyfriend, a detail that makes a world of difference in the dating game, where nobody gets to score. 

Generally, couples are best friends by default. Ours is a special case because I was given the best friend role before the girlfriend title. He once said to me, “Sweetie, you’re nobody’s default best friend.” After almost 2.5 years, I'm still as giddy as I was on our first date. I tell him everything, from my Christian struggles, uni stress, and neuroses, to mosquito bites, shopping purchases, and lame sushi jokes. He is my best friend, my confidant, navigation system, foot warmer, a closet comedian with bizarre metaphors, and the greatest boyfriend in the world. 

I appreciate all the grand gestures and especially the little things he does. He naturally, subtly walks on the side of the traffic. He always saves the best part of every dish for me, carefully shells my crab claws, and discreetly places them in my bowl. Chivalry is not only alive and kicking but also incredibly hot. But most of all, he makes me feel safe and protected. Even right now, with a thousand walls between us, I still feel like he is beside me. All the time.

hitch

The movie Hitch introduced the idea of a ‘window of opportunity’ to make an impression on the object of your affection, suggesting you only get one shot at getting it right. I don’t believe you only get one chance, but timing is crucial.

When someone catches your eye and you want to pursue them, you proactively try to express your interest. Often, you might lose hope and stop trying because they don’t reciprocate or didn’t notice your subtle gestures. This on-and-off, proactive/non-proactive state you fall into is likely what the person you like is experiencing too. They might be interested in you as well, but both parties need to be in sync.

When I was little, I believed everyone in the world was paired with another person. Your destined partner would be connected to you by an invisible red string of fate, so no matter how far apart you were, you’d always find each other again. Sometimes I’m scared I’m mistakenly connected to someone else’s partner, and one day, the mistake will be noticed and corrected, leaving me waiting for my true other half to come along.

Dating is essentially the time you spend with someone to see if you’re compatible for marriage. Each day should bring you a step closer to determining if you’re right for each other. Maybe I’m impatient or apprehensive, but I can’t wait for the day when we BOTH know it.

play

While attempting to clean my room, I stumbled upon my Dawson's Creek DVD box sets that I purchased when I was young (okay, fine, two years ago). This was probably the only show I followed religiously, my Thursday night fix of teen angst and verbosity. It was a love/hate relationship; I was hooked but perpetually annoyed by some of the characters.

My high school best friend and I had epic debates over the Dawson/Joey/Pacey love triangle. He was Team Pacey, and I was Team Dawson. Not because I was a Dawson fan, but probably because I was secretly in love with my best friend and living vicariously through the whole Dawson and Joey soul-mate fiasco. He despised Joey Potter, seeing her as indecisive and life-wrecking, while I thought she was just misunderstood.

Feeling nostalgic, I popped a random disc into the DVD player. It was the episode where Pacey and Joey return from their sailing trip. The episode itself wasn't groundbreaking, but the final scene was one of the most romantic of the series. Pacey and Joey took turns reading aloud to each other under the fairy lights on the boat, with Joey falling asleep in Pacey’s arms - a simple yet loving act.

Yesterday, our kayaking plans got canceled due to bad weather, so RD and I stayed indoors. We had lunch with his family, watched TV, and he played on his Xbox while I dozed off next to him on the couch. It wasn't a cinematic romantic moment, but on my drive to Bible study tonight, I replayed yesterday’s events in my head. I remembered waking up to see him smiling at me before turning back to his game. The memory warmed my heart.

what happened to me?

The last bar of my petrol meter has been flashing for a few days. I haven't had the time (or money) to fill up. Petrol prices have skyrocketed, so it costs more to feed my car than to feed myself. Dad lectured me about my apparently empty tank, and my defense was that I've decided to live life on the edge. What's more exciting than testing the limit and seeing how far I could drive? I'm such a daredevil.

I recently bought DVD box sets: Veronica Mars, Dawson's Creek, Felicity, Gilmore Girls, The OC, and Smallville. I also have the complete series of Friends, but that's nothing to brag about. I mean, who else can say that they have a whole collection of teenage dramas like mine? I'm at least five years behind on TV, so it's time to catch up. As a teenager, while everyone else had their eyes glued to the television, I had my head buried in books. My parents were worried about me and barred me from reading after bedtime. So, I read under my blanket with a torch - subtlety had always been my specialty.

Libraries and bookstores were my sanctuary. While my family shopped, I sat in the bookstore and read as much as I could, enjoying the smell of the crisp pages and getting high on their scent. In primary school, I was the school's Library Monitor (much cooler than it sounds) and came to school early every morning to offer my assistance. I sacrificed an hour of my sleeping time to spend quality time with the books. Whenever new books came in, I was assigned to cover them with clear contact since I had proven to be the most qualified candidate. Now that I think of it, they probably only let me do it because no one else was dorky enough to even want that job. I was obsessed with the laminator; I could have made good use of it at home, but every moral fibre in my body stopped me from stealing it (my bag was too small to hide it in). So, what ever happened to that little bookworm?

vanilla sky

We all impose rules on ourselves. They're not official policies engraved on plaques hung on our walls; rather, they're mental guides through life.

When you set these rules, you enforce them. But what happens when you break them? Are you then responsible for assigning your own punishment? Right and wrong seem straightforward, black and white, yet there's often a grey area. We make exceptions for things that don't neatly fit into either category. Mistakes are part of daily life. If no one knows of our mistakes, who judges us? Perhaps the guilt we carry is the price for our secret errors.

Life can feel ephemeral. Some days, I resist waking up - not out of depression, but sheer indifference. Facing another day, knowing it will pass like countless others, can be dulling. Most days, I'm content, but occasionally, a glum mood settles in. Distractions help momentarily, but nothing holds my interest for long.

The twist at the end of "Vanilla Sky" is breathtaking. The concept of living eternally in a dream, orchestrating every detail of that illusory life without ever knowing it's mere fantasy, is brilliant. Ignorance, they say, is bliss. Tom Cruise's character chooses the real world when given the choice in the movie. Films often persuade us that reality is superior simply because it's real. Given the option, though, I'd prefer the dream - a world crafted by my imagination to fulfil my desires. As long as I remain unaware it's a dream, it's my reality.

the notebook

Being understood and loved would be perfect. Not understanding someone, and still be able to love them is a challenge.

I recently watched The Note Book, a love story. Funny how every love tale must revolve around a knotty love triangle. Complication, betrayal and heartbreak are all the ingredients that make these anecdotes tantalising. Somebody is destined to be cut, simply because the heroine can only desire one. They say you don't get to choose whom you love, so obviously the choice of who will love you back is also not negotiable.