Eyes wide shut

I adore baths, especially those especially long ones where you exit the bathroom feeling totally rejuvenated and perky. And when it rains, such baths are oh-my-godly divine. I deserved such a washdown after an entire night/morning of Korean and Japanese drama and dabbling with conjuring up an edible kiwi lemon cheesecake. Got to love my Gurlies for such insanely impossible expeditions.

The state of minds I harboured when watching such soapy drama serials before and after entering a relationship were vastly differentiated, I realised. The teenage me would cling loyally to every sappy dialogue between the protagonist and his/her accompanying cast of doe-eyed good-lookers, feeding off the perfection of each star-crossed couple. The little girl in me would dream up little dreams of those pretty faces, and hope endlessly to be on the receiving end of such affection. That was plain childish thinking on the part of my bubbling adolescent hormones. Of course, we should all be clear by now about the fact that such fairytales are either fictitious or dodo-bird dead; a drop dead good-looking Prince who's filthy rich, has a beautiful body and matching personality isn't going to pop open his Caldilac's door, step out and offer his Bulberry handkerchief to you just because you're sobbing your lungs out on the walkway. No. Snap out of your self-deluding stupor and kick yourself in the arse, largely because you're not living in your Aishitteru or Sarang Haeyo world.

And being mindlessly in love with TV pixels didn't help with my wallet, plus the fact that pen-woven princes belong solely to print and screen.

So I'm almost past that phase of pinning posters on my walls like I did in the past (and ripping my wall paint off when I took them off), and being in a relationship kind of hastened the entire metamorphic process. Of course, I know that Jack wouldn't always be around me when I needed him, and that's because we're all only human. Neither do I expect gifts, flowers, teddies, chocolates, chauffeuring, sending me home, helping me do my assignments, attend my lectures for me, etcetera. Because he's my companion, and not my tutor/maid/chauffeur/personal security guard/insurance agent/Santa Claus. Most importantly, he's not my Superman. He's just Jack, my Super Sunshine.