!(imgcenter)http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1040/611173329_5a86b8bea4.jpg(Six shoe sizes apart, seven years apart, almost eight years together)!:http://www.flickr.com/photos/yannie/611173329/
Well, exactly one year from now, we will be husband and wife.
Knowing him, he probably doesn’t even realise it and he’s going to give me this sheepish look with a big grin when he sees me rolling my eyes at him. Yes, he remembers things like when the Singapore Formula One race will kick off but other dates just slide off his memory like water on a baby’s backside.
He is not the romantic sort. I honestly cannot remember when was the last time he bought me flowers (maybe seven years ago?) and the last surprise I got was the proposal (which was sorta cute). Most of the time, I whine and kick out hard at his shins about the lack of a romantic bone in his boy (he is a VS boy afterall).
But in the end, I realise that it’s not the big gestures that keeps a relationship going. It’s in the small things – how he brings heavy magazines home for me from his office, how he sends me home without complaints even when he is dead tired, how he always pays for my meals because my wallet has swallowed up my cash, how he carries my gym bags for me even though his load is not light, how he good-naturedly accepts the good-hearted jibes of my extended family who adores him…
So after almost eight years, we are finally nearing the end of a chapter and the start of a new life together. Cheers to the remaining one year of engagement.
(Edit: Well, it seems that he knows why a cake was sent to his office after all!)
Yannisms 