memory 18: Last year my cousin wanted to make me her maid of honour in lieu of her sister but I apologetically refused because I had been a best woman twice and witnessed how a monster groom and the princess bride from Shrek can never make for a lasting and healthy union.

One groom said hey, it keeps the marriage interesting love, all this unending Ramayanas. He's also a self-styled Tomasz from Unbearable Lightness of Being a Pervert. [And really, two popcorns at best.. what a bore of a chick flick.] But he loves it. Me? I don't think I can embrace love as a feeling, totally. I understand it, but after too long, it becomes a black hole, a kind of evil gravity that usurps one's capability for reason...for thinking of anything else the first thing in the morning and becoming the final thought when one's mind is taken by slumber. Not cool.

So my cousin is her final week now of pregnancy. I'm envious but still truly happy for her - it could happen like that. She says she's in love only after marriage, but then again, it was an arranged marriage. I've witnessed both very successful and disastrous marriages - but love can be a different animal altogether. I think I know love, but at the same time, past accidents left deep scars. I was never healthy or informed enough to seek vulnerary cures so the wounds will clot and crust and form rigid scars that will never fully heal. I know I'm damaged, and I really can't afford any further injury or to suck it up and pretend that I am okay all the time. Stoicity and sacrifice has its limits. Let's face it, I'm allergic to uncertain commitments, weddings and the like so I think it's best to stay away from such things. You know what, I'm not even afraid anymore. I'll just accept it....

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