on-going mostly unedited stream of thoughts

the moment

A few years ago I asked my friend Misty how did she know her husband was going to be The One. She said it is all about The Moment. I was like, huh? She explained: across a crowded room, she knows she is the only entity he sees. In that moment, it is all about her – she is his entire moment and he is hers.

I have always been a diehard romantic (maybe plus minus the last few years when my life was all about work). But when she told me about The Moment, I was pretty sure it is never going to happen in real life, at least not for me. The Moment only happens in movies. I didn’t want The Moment, I wanted work, and if there was a rare chance that I would be in a relationship, I wanted a partner who could equal me in my ambitions (who knew I had that side, it died pretty quickly though).

Here’s the thing though. Each time I met someone with romantic inclinations, I would remember what Misty said. Some far away voice in my head would ask, am I her moment? Is she mine? Despite my skepticism, there was a tiny part of me who still believed in The Moment, and I didn’t want to give up my autonomy as a single person unless I am someone’s moment. It didn’t feel like it was possible, so I was contented being married to my work and friends. It also allowed me to end a couple of situations where I clearly wasn’t in the other party’s list of priorities, much less her moment.

And then I met her. Before we acknowledged our feelings, I remember a night when we hung out with a group of friends. While walking to dinner, we somehow unconsciously matched our pace with each other. In a table full of people, we could only see each other. From then on, without even realising it consciously then, we had become each other’s Moment.

It took a long while after we started dating before it occurred to me. Each time we’d met, I knew I was the only entity she saw. It wasn’t a guess or a shred of doubt. I didn’t really have much esteem to begin with, so it surprised me how clear it felt. Suddenly, I understood what Misty meant.

Tomorrow is our 11th month anniversary. I am writing this one day early grudgingly on April Fool’s, because we are going to relish being each other’s moment the entire day tomorrow. 11 months later, every morning I still wake up to her smiles – like I am the best thing she has seen.

The Moment exists, and I am so very lucky she is mine.

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