By Charry Hannah Catingub
My love story might just be one of the many same old love stories that have ever been told. Unlike other couples who have known each other most of their lives, my love story might have happened a little too fast. But for me, the story of how my husband and I came to be is something that you can call a work of fate.
Every time I look back, it really amazes me knowing that our meeting was conspired by the universe. It might not have been at the right time, but we still ended up where we have always intended to be.
I first met my husband four years ago when I went to Singapore for work. He arrived in the country a couple of weeks earlier to look for a job. He was staying with his best friend, the same place where my own friends were staying. Eventually, I would end up staying there, too.
Weeks before my flight to Singapore, I was looking for a friend who was willing to let me crash at her flat until I get my first salary, which would enable me to pay for a rented room of my own. I only had a few close friends in Singapore. Two of whom have already turned me down because their rooms were already crowded.
Luckily, one friend took pity on me and agreed to let me stay with her and her husband. This also seemed to be a work of fate, since a common friend of ours, who was supposed to be staying with them to find some work, was offloaded.
I can still remember the day of my flight to Singapore. I was so nervous and afraid. It was not my first time to travel to Singapore but this time, I was alone and I heard several stories of people getting offloaded on the plane. But I guess fate was really on my side. The immigration officer was in a good mood. She didn't ask me a lot of questions and I was off the hook.
It was the day after I arrived in Singapore that I met him—the guy with whom I will be spending the rest of my life with and will be the father of my child. But during that time, we never really liked each other, at least romantically. I was also not looking for someone because I was still in love with my then ex-boyfriend. My friend also had warned me that he seemed to be a playboy. My first impression of him was that he was a gentleman—a gentleman with a bit of malice, so to speak.
From time to time, he would tease me by calling me bhe, which is short or a slang term for the word ‘baby.’ There were several times that I caught him and his friend checking out some sexy girls passing by whenever we got out for meals. Later on, I would also hear that they met some girls and went on dates.
A month later, a friend of mine, who was moving to another house, asked if I wanted to share a room with her. I was getting really annoyed with him for always teasing me so I took my friend’s offer. But even after I moved to a different house, he would still contact me through Facebook messenger. Despite the fact that he annoyed me, I still accepted a dinner invitation from him.
I guess, even if he annoyed me that much, there was a little part of me that missed the way he made me laugh. To be fair to him, he was a nice friend. He was also a good listener and he was fun to talk to. I guess I missed having that kind of friend, especially when you’re in a different country.
That invitation didn’t push through, though. He was called to work for an overtime and after that, he suddenly stopped sending me messages. We never saw each other again. I continued chasing my ex-boyfriend and my friend continued chasing other girls.
Got a story to tell? Join #BIDOAv2. Here's how.