Krystal's line from her blog really resonated with me:

"Isn't amazing how an emotion can cripple your soul so much, make your mind work in ways it never thought it could..."

Yea, it is amazing.

It's amazing how uplifting it is, to remember your anniversary, and the fact that you've made it this far despite all the shit you've been through.

It's amazing how much it hurts when, for example, you realise your boyfriend forgets your anniversary.

It's amazing how much it hurts when he can't even remember the correct number of years that you've been together.

It's amazing how it really hurts when he thinks that you *enjoy* having to *punish* him because he forgot.

It's amazing how it really, really hurts that he thinks it's no big deal that he doesn't remember, and that he doesn't see what the big fuss about dates is all about.

It's amazing how it kills you to think that he could be so flippant about something so important to you.

Yes, an emotion is amazing, all right.

It can cripple you, all right.

It can lift you up on high hopes, only to send you crashing to the ground in the end, your heart pierced by the extremely tall and sharp flagpole that you were so unlucky to fall on.

Why does it affect me so much? Because I don't know how else to get the measure of this man.

His way of showing he cares is not like any other guy that I've heard of, or seen.

He doesn't call me. He doesn't SMS me. He doesn't ask me out for dinner after work. Most times when I've tried to call him, I don't get an answer. Most times when I've tried to ask him out, he can't make it.

When we first started out, he didn't even bother to call me out, until I got him into the habit of going out every Sunday. Mondays to Saturdays, I don't communicate with him.

He didn't remember my birthday at first, or even care, until I grumbled about it.

Our first Valentine, he said he had to stay at work. Our second Valentine, he said he wanted to dine with his parents. This while 100s of boyfriends around the island were frantically making dinner reservations. This while I had said that we could even go to a coffeeshop, just as long as we managed to meet.

I keep telling him, I feel like a Batam wife. As if I'm some woman there for his entertainment after work, as a respite from his real wife or something. As if he's not interested in the commitment to make this relationship work. As if I'm just something to entertain himself with.

Some days, I know that what I just said was terribly unfair. Other days I wonder why I seem to be making all the effort and why can't he just do a few simple things to make me happy.

Everyday, I wish I didn't have to feel this way. That the crippling thoughts won't just crash down on me one after the other and leave me unable to think clearly and rationally.

2 months after the disaster that was Valentine's Day, I got this from him on our 2nd anniversary.

It's just so hurtful that it's not funny.

Dates are important to me. Anniversaries are important, because they remind us how it was when we got together.

It reminds us that we made a choice to get together.

It congratulates us that we've made it this far together.

He can't see why it's so important. He asked me why are they so important to me, if they are just dates?

I want to ask him, how can they be so unimportant to you?

And also, again, why can't you just remember it if it was so important to me? Is it that hard to remember a date?

*Haiz* I don't know. I don't know why I think of all these questions. I don't know why I even have to.

But before I go, I want to remind myself of the better things. The things that show he cares for me.

He still bothers to come out on Sundays for me. If he didn't want to come out, he could have just went out with his parents instead.

He NOW remembers my birthday, after mixing it with Juls' birthday, and bothers to DO something. [remember the insecty bag?]

He patiently shops around with me, and even picks out things that I might like or that might look good on me.

He goes places that he normally would not, like Sentosa, East Coast, and even West Side Story, simply because I wanted to.

Even when I made him miss a boat to Bintan with his friends, he waited for me with my luggage and made no complaint about having to go early the next day, or paying for the crazy-huge taxi bill I chalked up.

He pays for taxi rides, lunches, dinners, teas, movies and never asks for payment, but just accepts what money I remember to give him.

He remembers things that I like and do, even when he can't understand why on earth any person would be interested in it.

Even when I goof up like some plebeian in front of his parents, he still sticks up for me. [even when his mother offers me facials and slimming treatments :S ]

[I think that list was a good move. I feel better now after typing all the good stuff down]

In the end, I suppose the good stuff always comes with the bad.

Every relationship is a bed of roses. When you lie in it, you smell the sweet perfume, but you also feel the thorns.

But if we want to ever smell the perfume, then that's the price we have to pay.

*Sigh*

At least if we make it past this one, we'd be able to make it to a 3rd anniversary, which will hopefully be better.

At least whatever happens, we still choose to be with each other.

And hopefully, we'd both be stronger after it.