And they call it puppy love

And they call it puppy love

I was reading the blog of a younger friend, and I actually scoffed at the naivity of her "I miss my sweetheart 'cos he hasn't called me for ten minutes" entries. I pulled Jason to the computer and said, "Oh my god, read this, can't stand it right!" He scanned the entry, then went, "Aiyah, puppy love ma."


Goodness. When in the span of our 2-year-plus courtship have we become so jaded?


Though I don't remember us ever being THAT infatuated as my young friend currently is (correct me if I am wrong my faithful blog readers), I am sure we both are guilty of a few mush-filled declarations that have made others puke (and ourselves cringe), earlier on in our courtship.


That said, I am not implying that our feelings for each other have faded over time. The scales of passion (haha spoken like a true-blue Libran) have merely been tipped. Our love has intensified in a way such that it grounds us, bringing us down from the
fluffy clouds of infatuation to the reality of possibly spending the next sixty years of our life together.


To illustrate:
We would rather spend $70 watching 5 week-day movies, than blow it on a romantic dinner at a restaurant. And contrary to couples doing stuff together, we separate upon reaching the mall, me to the shops and himself to the arcade.


But that doesn't mean we love each other any less! Marc told me I made the most touching comment of the century (that weren't his exact words actually, haha) during one of our conversations. He apparently (no recollection whatsoever on my side) asked me what my idea of a perfect man was, and I said, "Hmmm. Jason lor."


I never knew I was a subconscious romantic.