Imaginary Relationships

I think I finally figured out why I’m always happy being single in reality.
Everytime I see a cute stranger on the train, it takes me about 10 mins to work through the course of our relationship should we make eye contact.

From the flirting to courtship to our first kiss to going out for dinner and wine – only to realise how much we have in common and how we are able to agree to disagree. He will be the perfect well-learned gentleman with the perfect hair, accent and immaculate grooming and hygiene standards (which I will be happy to discover when I drop by his place for the metaphorical coffee).

Then I see us meeting up more and falling hopelessly in love as we discover more interesting mysteries about each other – sometimes I wouldn’t be able to help it but imagine the old and wrinkled version of the 2 of us (no kids) sitting in front of our beach villa sipping homemade margaritas (or decanters of calming, warm sake) together on a cool breezy evening.

Alas, all good relationships filled with the passion intensity that I deem enough for a love affair will come to a dramatic, teary end. He will realise that setting his expectations of me on his terms will only force me to feel like a caged animal – exhibit A – and my blunt way of talking soon loses its charm as he yearns for a girlfriend who doesn’t speak his language because he runs out of ideas to keep me interested. And I will grow to be bipolar in my behavior towards him – sometimes very loving and sometimes so utterly bored with everything about him that I’m supposed to love.

It ends with a stony, “I think I need to be single again” from me and he doesn’t try to salvage the relationship because he knows I won’t change my mind, but I will be at once both relieved and hugely disappointed to learn that once again, no man is willing to fight me for me.

…the MRT will at this point come to my stop and as I get off the train, I’ll steal one last glance at my imaginary lover as he cluelessly looks up and smiles at me – confirming that the hero in my yet another imagined relationship acknowledges my existence.

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