Friday, 27 June 2014

How do you describe your love for your wife to a stranger?

She's not all sugar and spice and everything nice that's for sure. That's my opening salvo and here comes the dynamite inside. I married Anna 14 years ago. It was a coming together to share two lives from Venus and Mars (or me Pluto?). It was like trying to smelt two iron bars together into a melded marital pot; and it sure took some time. And here comes my glacially evolving point to all this
(so please bear with me).

Anna was 5 years younger when I met her in school uniform. Yes, you heard it right the first time. We were young then not by choice. And romantic love is no respecter of age or for that matter brains; though I can't say I was more mature than her then. I fell for her the moment I set my eyes on her (it was a hard fall and I am still floored when I think about it now).

But the connection was nothing spiritual or magical or spiritually magical. We did not look into a cistern for some 
confirming divine signs or tested God like Gideon did with the wool and dew. Neither did the cosmic stars collide in an explosive spectacle. I think the stars were too busy studiously observing their own orbit to even bother. So coming back, it was definitely love at first sight for me with a tincture of adolescent sexual wonder on the side (that's a euphemism for that unchristian word "hormonal").

Our first date was therefore not exactly made in heaven like most couples would tell you about theirs. But I am sure Adam and
 Eve would have been proud since I had stayed true to their legacy, that is, when I first set my eyes on Anna, there was no one else. I was completely swooned by her like a school boy would find indescribable relief after releasing a bursting bladder held for the longest time. Pardon the bad analogy but it was an enraptured feeling of being one with her that I cannot fully describe. Not with words of course but we guys can viscerally relate to that ecstatic joy of full bladder relief.

Now let's get serious, bladderly 
serious. After the first date, the first go-steady, the first hand-holding, the first hug, the first kiss and the first will-you-marry-me, we consummated our love. And no consummation is a private affair. You can't do it privately for long because as of today, our consummation has resulted in three boisterous spawn of our loins with the youngest being the chattiest and also our most beloved consummation intervener. Pardon again for the unsolicited details.

At this point, I guess the stranger 
would be hoping that I switch seats to somewhere else. But here is how I end our brief encounter. Here is where I make up for lost time. It is the part about why I love Anna. I love her and still do and will always do. She is not perfect because a perfect life partner would only make me overweeningly unbearable to her. It would turn living together into a burden of accommodation like bearing with a perpetual spoilt brat.

So we are imperfect. The smelting iron is still sharpening each other, 
sometimes with more heat and sparks than is desired. But everyday since that day at the altar has been a transforming reality for me. I am dying to say here that Anna completes me but that would sound like a corny rip-off from Taylor Swift's endless guitar-riffed love ballad. However, blush or no blush, Anna completes me. She fits me snugly. When the officiating pastor declared that the two shall be one, he was not just tossing the scripture around like a used tissue. He was not joking. It's
 true. The two are becoming one; it's an everyday conjoining reality, a synergy of sorts.

In fact, I was in the train the other day and this thought suddenly rushed up to me with bladderly emergency: "Anna still looks as beautiful to me as the first time I said I do to her." And I would repeat that under oath even now. I swear. It was not even a thought I was thinking or pondering about at that time. It just came, unbidden. It was in my face. I would think a 14-year marriage would not be too preoccupied with such
 prepubescent romantic notion but it popped out nevertheless and out of the mystic blue.

Maybe my heart is trying to tell me that the two-in-one synergy is working out just swimmingly and there is more than enough of this synergy between us to continue in this life's journey together. Maybe my heart is trying to tell me that I have found my soulmate and her name is Anna. Maybe she's a keeper and my lover for life. Maybe, just maybe, "maybe" is a front for that resonating passion I
 am feeling for Anna as I share this with a stranger.

Well, I guess that's how much I love Anna, my wife, my partner-in-arms, my love riot, my better half, and my journey companion. I trust I got the stranger's attention and have done my bit to describe my love for my wife in the best way I know how. In the brevity of time of this encounter, I hope the stranger will go away inspired to pass on this little love story to another stranger he meets along the road to finding enduring love. Cheerz.

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