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I don’t know what I’m going to do. Everyone keeps asking me to get this settled, get that settled… how can I pay for anything right now? Even my severance package was only 3 months worth. It’s enough to survive on, but not for long. And definitely not for the enormous bills that this wedding is racking up.
I remember watching Black Hawk Down years ago, and wondering what would happen to all these Somalis?
It looks like its more of the same, years down the road.
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I thought I would never survive that ring incident. Those aunties added 30% more to my ring budget. But Leng looked very happy wearing it. I suppose it was worth it after all.
The Director called me in today. Told me I was doing a good job, that I was very hardworking, that I had a lot of talent, and other compliments I’ve never heard, not in such quantities in all my years at the bank. Then silence. “But,” he said.
I knew where this was going.
I knew even before he said “But”.
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Things are getting bad in the office. Just heard about the Derivatives department. We may be next.
The Director just told us about the bonus this year.
I don’t know how to tell Hui Leng.
We may not be able to afford the wedding with so many tables.
Next week is the ring trip. That’s another headache.
Why do diamond rings have to cost so much?
Leng’s mom is coming along. I cannot lose face in front of her. I cannot make Leng lose face too.
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I hate weddings. I hate big weddings even more. So expensive.
Does she think I am printing money just because I work in a bank? I don’t even know if I will get a bonus this year!
Last weekend’s drive at Sepang with Huat was great.
I like driving fast. Leng hates me driving fast. I wonder if I can convince Leng to have a cross-country driving honeymoon from Paris to Dakar?
But she just cares, that’s all. That is her love speaking. She takes my breath away, like an airbag in a car crash.
I remember reading a poem from a New Zealand poet in Hui Min’s book collection. It is like the poet was speaking my mind.
For ten seconds I fell
in love with you.
The first second we met.
You were buying recipes.
The second second we turned,
Taking pieces of each other out of our eyes.
The third second we held each other gently.
Your skin was a small kitten playing with a curtain.
The fourth second we kissed.
Front gates clicked against our fence.
I cannot remember the other six seconds. There was only Leng in my head by then.
Update: The poet is Glenn Colquhoun and that poem is from his anthology How We Fell.