Love and fats - an analogy

I was in my reflective-mode a couple of weeks prior to the trip, or as the author of Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus book puts it, I was in "my cave". I'd expected to clear my head during a contemplative moment on the plane, but enlightenment came in bits and pieces as I toured Dubai.

Seeing a poster of an elderly couple advertising for a condominium as the perfect retirement home made me wonder. There was the constant coincidental playing of stickwitu. Then there was that conversation on the bus with Jane where we predicted the future of us six in the gang.

Cheesy old-school love songs played on in the background as I stared at the river from the dhow cruise, watching the twinkling lights of the city skyline reflect off the dark waters like floating jewels. It was post dinner, and after days of heavy eating buffet-style, I was feeling more than a little conscious of that extra bit of blubber around my waist.

At that moment, an image filled my mind. Even if I were to return to Singapore with blubber ten times thicker and with a double chin to boot, I know whose hug will still be as warm and whose arms will still hold me as snugly.

This time away is slowly bringing me around, and guiding and head and my heart to where they belonged all this time.

Jane couldn't imagine me with anyone else. Neither can I.