What was I doing at a Chinese New Year party, and, what’s more, why was I the only guy wearing a Chinese shirt? Those who know me well know the answers to those questions, and their reaction is usually “Joey…” Anyway, apart from my Asian movie fandom, my Chinese housemate had invited me and it was nearby. And food is always good. Anyway, there I was. I won’t lie by saying I wasn’t on the prowl, but only as a perennial single such as myself normally is. In reality, you don’t really believe you could meet someone right for you at a party, but it’s always nice to impress and feel appreciated. In my own philosophy/theology of relationships, I’d swung from one end of the Calvinist pendulum to the other: on the one hand, believing that predestination is also for details of life such as who I’m going to marry, and on the other, giving up on believing the perfect woman for me exists and that I should just get on with life, and if someone who can put up with me shows up (idea which by then, I’d pretty much given up on), take them on with their own flaws. When one thinks about it, those two are not in contradiction. And while I believed both, like for most things, I didn’t fully believe them until I experienced them that very night, though I only realised it much later. But now, I’d say that’s the only advice I have for those in the same situation. Trust, and walk. Don’t settle for cheap sensations. You may be forfeiting something far greater…
“Wow, at least I’m not the only one wearing a Chinese shirt now! I’m Joey, what’s your name?” I get a weird look back. I must admit, that was lame. Then again, what do you expect? This isn’t a movie with scripted lines. I’d seen her walk through the door, and knew I must speak to her. ‘What was it?’ I thought later … I guess she was just really gorgeous. That’s the first time I saw Nikki.
How we got together is a funny story, already told to death, involving, at some point, a surprise romantic pick-nick on our first date (not that she was aware of the fact it was a date), and you can ask me when you see me.
It’s really strange for me to write about her, so used as I am to being single, as used as I am to being the odd person who doesn’t really fit anywhere. There must be a connection there, somewhere. Indeed, I always knew that the day I met someone crazy enough to stick around and who would ‘get me’, that girl would be the one for me. I remember writing up interminable lists of things that I wanted in my woman when I was younger, then later scrapping them when I realised how embarrassing that was. Those lists stick in one’s head though, as they represent one’s taste. Thinking back, it’s even more shameful for me to realise they were, by and large, lists of external qualities and skills and experiences, much like a (very extensive) CV, and hardly about character and internal qualities. The amazing thing is, she fulfils qualities I never realised I would have needed from a woman. Forgiveness, for example. Sweetness, kindness, gentleness. Openness. She has a humble heart, as I’d always hoped for in a woman, but she humbles me. And she fulfils me in ways I’d never expected: she is so funny. I can honestly say she’s become my best friend, something I hadn’t thought possible for quite a few years now, and I want to fight for her. Now that I’m in a serious relationship, I see my own flaws more clearly and bigger than ever before, and I want to beat them down more than before.
All these things are no different from what one would hear at any talk on relationships in church, but until one experiences them, they mean nothing to him.
When we started dating, I was shocked at the way, every time I saw her, she just looked more beautiful, as though I was seeing her for the first time all over again. And better. And the bizarre connections we have are so wonderfully refreshing, I just couldn’t have asked for anyone better. That is also why I haven’t been blogging for months. Too busy writing to her, talking, hanging out. Oh, and working like a maniac, which is completely unrelated, except for the fact that it’s all part of a new stage in life, and an exciting one at that…
Love is a strange thing. I was already convinced of the fact that it is a choice. It has never been truer than in my relationship with Nikki. Of course I’m drawn to her in a way I am to no other woman, but I realise I could easily choose to be unfaithful. Making the choice to love her builds my love for her, strengthening it and making it more beautiful. The choice is for the singles too, not to let oneself be tossed to and fro by sensations and sensuality, but to let the greater love of God overcome one’s need for those and aim for true relationship. And I know that isn’t something that applies only to Theists. One can also appeal to humanist beliefs to help them respect the opposite sex and draw out the best in them instead of the worst.
I know that it’s been a ride for the both of us. Nikki’s getting to know my flaws, my peeves, the way I act when I’m tense, my strange interests. Thankfully, she has a few of her own!
Anyway, after a whole lot of praying, thinking, discussion, flying over to England to speak to my mentors, I just cannot see a reason not to marry her. So that’s what we’re going to do.
Three weeks ago, I asked her to marry me. Through teary eyes, breathless, she whispered “yes…”
