When we first started dating…
It’s way past midnight, I couldn't quite follow what Nick just said, and it was so much harder to keep my eyes open.
Nick: “You put down first.”
Me: “Haha, I’ll wait for you to hang up first.”
Nick: “Count of three, we hang up together?”
3, 2, 1… After an awkward, prolonged silence, we burst out laughing. I shouldn’t have teased my friends about their 3am calls, because I became one of those people with giant phone bills too. Just so I could linger a bit longer.
When we’d been together for a year…
He always insisted on sending me home on the MRT, even though we lived at opposite ends of the line.
Nick: “Let’s meet at Raffles Place, it’s nearer to your office.”
Me: “It’s so far for you! How about Queenstown?”
Nick: “It’s ok! I like reading on the train anyway. Raffles Place lah.”
We joked about our “LDR”, but he never complained about his 1.5 hour commute. Some nights we’ll share his earphones. I loved listening to his favourite songs. He carried my laptop without prompting but joked that I might consider strength training. We got dirty looks from other commuters, shaking with laughter but finding it so hard to stop.
After we moved into our first home…
Our WhatsApp chat took on a different character, less memes or “I miss you”. Messages and calls were used to coordinate our daily to-dos. Living together ignited new frictions to patiently work through. I wondered, is this how marriage kills romance?
Nick: “Can you buy the laundry detergent?”
Me: “Ok! You want more apples and oranges yah?”
Nick: “I’ll come meet you, how are you going to carry all that on your own!”
With messy hair, in his army t-shirt and running shorts, he walked towards me and grabbed the heaviest bags before I could protest. “You need a free hand to hold mine,” he cheekily retorted. Being consistently kind and thoughtful was simply his understated love in our season of married life.
When I was hospitalised during the pandemic and no visitors were allowed…
The night before I was admitted, solemnly, I made him promise to date again and remarry if I passed away. He just looked at me and patted my head, “touchwood lah!” Our daily phone calls were the highlight of my day again.
Nick: “I cleaned the whole house so you can rest comfortably later.”
Me: “Thank you dear, you did all that on top of your work!”
Nick: “Get well soon! The house is so quiet without you. No one can drag chairs and accidentally close doors with too much force the way you do, haha.”
I could see him sitting in our study, brows furrowed, but his voice was so warm and comforting that it seemed like he was in the ward, seated on my bed.
When it’s Christmas…
Me: “I’m leaving Orchard now! I’ll show you what I bought and pack the gifts for our families and friends later. Can you take the dinner prep out from the fridge?”
Nick: “I totally forgot it’s next week!! Message me when you’re 15 minutes away and I’ll reheat the food.”
When I opened the door to our home, “wah you always remember everything”, he exclaimed. Was that a compliment? Though the big hug he pulled me into felt like his unspoken thanks was properly squished into it.
Valentine’s Day can feel so frantic, with social media posts urging us to secure hot restaurant reservations, pre-order bouquets, and surprise our partners with telepathy-level presents they’d been eyeing. It doesn't have to feel that way.
Cheesy it may be, every moment holds the potential to be Valentine’s. To notice the big and little ways where your partner is saying I love you. Maybe it’s when they offered to vacuum and do the laundry when you’re exhausted. Or the still-steaming cup of coffee they made before they left for work, just the way you like it. Perhaps it’s that encouraging message they sent before you head into something you’re anxious about.
This Valentine’s, Nick and I want to share our playlist with you. Compiling it together brought back so many memories. Enjoy this with the people dearest to you.
Savour every special little moment. May the gift of music, conversation, and presence fill up your hearts.
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