I’m alone… again. Erica has sadly left me for greener pastures :( And by greener pastures I mean back home to Singapore. They get more rain and stuff so I just naturally assume their pastures are greener. But whatever… we have more fat cows so we win. And we have more bovines too.

3 weeks from now to be spent all on my lonesome. Well, I still have Mrs Palmer and her 5 daughters to keep me company, but well… it’s not the same. Rosy Palmer just doesn’t warm my bed and heart like my wife does. She tries hard though, the little trooper.

I’ve decided to extend my stay in Sydney until December to spend more time with my family. Erica is unfortunately unable to stay has she has one of her closest friends flying in from the UK that she only gets to see once a year, who has already altered her schedule so they can both meet up.

The result? A forlorn hubby sitting at home by the window, peering at the sky. Burning a candle for the now missing piece in his life, and the hole in his heart.

This will be the longest by far that we’ve ever been apart from each other. We’ve only been apart once in all those years we’ve been living together, and that was only for a week. 3 weeks will feel like an eternity.

Our trip back to Sydney has been amazing in so many ways. Mostly, because it was like being home. Visiting all the places that we used to visit, feeling all the fond old memories being awakened and washing over us, took us back to a time where we were both so happy, carefree, and completely independent.

Erica knows I haven’t really been as happy as I used to be since I moved to Singapore, and I think for her to see, feel, and share in the joy that I’ve experienced since coming back to Sydney, contributed to a reaction that lit a white hot flame under our relationship. Where all the love we have for each other, all the warmth and joy that we share with each others presence, just seems magnified.

Our short time spent in Melbourne allowed all the wonderful but separate memories and experiences that we lived during our times there to converge. To overwrite all that contained us each with another, to that of us both with each other. To stroll along the streets that were so familiar, to dine at the places that used to be our favourites, and to be cradled in the ambiance that once enchanted us. We have no doubt that our paths had crossed many times during our years living in Melbourne, and it brought a smile to our faces following the trail along which they probably did.

It’s times like this where I ask God what it was that I did to deserve a woman like her. How could an angel like that ever fall in love with a bum like me? And to this day, I still don’t know. Fair enough I think I have a few decent qualities… such as I guess I’m a nice enough guy who likes puppies, my feet have normal arches, and those years of chronic masturbation didn’t affect my perfect eyesight whatsoever. But are they enough to redeem me of all my flaws?

After 3 years of marriage, I still compulsively feel the need to pull pranks on her, deliberately flatulate in her presence and giggle at her horrified reaction, exhibit repeated demonstrations and appreciation of completely boorish and puerile humour, and basically just act like a damn child 80% of the time. How could anyone sign up for the life time job of being the counsel and voice of reason to a person like that? And above all, to unconditionally love that person in spite of all those things.

I don’t think I’ll ever have the answer to that question, but I don’t care as I’m just so eternally grateful for it.

To be honest, I don’t want to go back to Singapore. I really don’t. Sure things may and probably will improve once we move out, but that is still a big question mark and one a long way from now. Looking back upon this post I made in 2008 announcing my move to Singapore, helps to keep me strong. To keep me from packing up my spade and bucket and coming home.

I made a promise and a commitment to my wife and hard as it is, I intend to see that through. I subscribe to the school of thought that only by going through the tough times does a person discover just what they’re made of. And I need to know that I’m made of a mettle that won’t break or run under those circumstances.

So 3 weeks… 3 more weeks. An eternity to wait to be reunited with my wife, the blink of an eye to be back in a place I don’t want to be. Life is all about perspective. To see the cup as half empty or half full. I just have to remind myself of that.

And so I choose to take the position of the former. To count the slow days until I can once again see Erica rolling her eyes at me, and me enjoying her looks of resignation or disapproval at my antics. When I choose to adopt that perspective, I realise that my cup is not half empty nor half full, but instead, it completely runneth over.

To my beautiful wife…