A lesson learned from nearly a decade’s worth of relationship
The last thing my ex had said to me at the end of our nearly-a-decade relationship was, “I booked you a ticket back to the States.”
At the time, he had already been seeing someone else and in an effort to facilitate his new relationship, decided to book me a one-way ticket back to the States without warning.
I used to hate it. When I was a kid, my parents had often encouraged me to read. They would take me to the library, buy me children’s books and occasionally point at a kid who was burying his nose in a book and suggest I do the same. But why? I asked them. Why should I read if I don’t enjoy it? Reading just isn’t as fun as, you know, playing with Barbie dolls or digging up worms in the garden. “Reading will make you smarter,” they proclaimed. If you read a lot of books, it’ll help you at life.
Dim sum. Flights. Clothes. Fresh fruits…kitchen tools. Money was, after all, something my parents didn’t have much of growing up.
Whenever an argument arises between me and someone I care about, I tend to evoke the same reaction: I walk away and ‘think about it’ until I feel ready to resolve the issue.
I know — it’s a childish move and I should confront the problem when it happens, but I figured that maybe, just maybe…
I once thought that happiness came from achieving a big milestone of success, like graduating from a good college, getting a fat paycheck every month, finding the love of your life, buying a new home and raising talented kids. It’s what everyone — including my parents, teachers and friends — has nudged me to pursue as my ‘destiny’.