My baby and I had a long story together. Or have had, to be precise. No, actually, having. Or just have. Simple have. We have a story together. A “have” for all our lives. Or life. A life we share. Our united life. Our one life. Me and my baby.
Since zero. Since I was zero and he was eight months old (5 days less), we were destined to be together. Together forever. My tiny little cute baby with decayed teeth (I dread eating sweets because of you!) who I truly love more than any single person in the world (whom I don’t share blood). Actually he’s like someone sharing my blood.
No, to be precise, he’s me. He IS me.
My baby and I share most of the things we have: our childhood, our families, food and fun, schooling and friends, we even share bed and bath; similar favorites as well as opposites, we share those things both of us love or hate, also those one loves and the other hates. We share our entire life.
I love my baby and my baby loves me. I am his number one priority; I’m more important than any other girls around him. So is he to me. He’s the only one I’ve ever thought of taking pictures in a wedding dress with (actually his brother too, hehe). In fact, he was the one I declared I would marry when I grow up – I’m referring to the interview on a magazine some thirteen years ago. If you can’t remember, any of our adults, including chị Mai, would gladly remind you the exact wording. I wish someone still keeps it. I want it back 😦
There are just so many things about us I can always recall. He was wearing a white dress (yes, a dress) to dance the Swan Lake ballet on a table with me and Siren. I forced him to take chewing-gum out of his mouth and put it in mine (go “ewww” yourself, and I’d been embarrassed as hell whenever “they” remind me of it, but now I think it’s actually very cute. Don’t we share everything, and isn’t everything about him, even trash, nice and dear to me?). He and his brother were always 99% naked every summer day when greeting me at the door, and never bothered to take on any clothes even though I was at their place all day. We messed up his mom’s kitchen so many times, including that time when we tried to make cookies (I can’t remember how it tasted. It must be lousy, but I believe we were quite proud. The recipe was from one of our geeky Science For Fun type of books; we always loved them). He loved origami and he had those pretty craft papers which I didn’t have. Awesome legos as well as amazing puzzles all eight of us love so much. We spent hours playing together without getting sick of each other. We were actually pretty cute together.
We did all the crazy things together, even when we grew up. We were the worst students in class, we drove our teachers crazy, we induced other classmates to become as bad kids as we were. When I’m with him I’m ignited to want to do the stupidiest, craziest stuffs. I could feel bold enough. He boosts up my confidence and makes me believe I can do the strangest things.
For him I can do anything, not only that I would want and dare to do them, but I would be able to do everything. There’s nothing to hold back, my life is his and his is mine. I’d give my life for his sake (no exaggerating here, I mean it. As doubtful and lack of trust in people as I am, I don’t feel as strong about anyone, except for family and childhood sisters. It is to say, he is the very important person to me).
For him I can take a 5-hop flight from Boston to Hanoi (it’s Boston-Detroit-Tokyo-Singapore-Saigon-Hanoi -__-) just to see him a little sooner than others, and fly home with him. So we’re gonna meet this very very soon and go shopping and eat mochi ice-cream and just enjoy a lot of wickedly crazy fun together in the sweaty weather. And you’re taking me home and I’ll feel like a princess (as I always do when I’m with you). Hey, there’s this prince who’s bringing me home to see my family and his! Can I not be overly happy?
My ugly, mean, fat prince since childhood is longgggging for me in his boring Singabore, so I’m coming to spice up his life! I’ll carry this beautiful bouquet of roses and be his bride And together we’ll sing my song “Hiền Nga yêu ai?” in the forever sun of the kids in us.
For my one, only, forever baby. I just write to say I love you.
“Hiền Nga yêu ai?
Hiền Nga yêu Kiên.
Hiền Nga yêu Kiên mà sao Kiên cứ quay lưng đi hoài?”
(try to sing these lines with the music, hehe. that’s as far as I can remember. Bác Hùng Râu was really pretty amazing, isn’t it? Or was it chú Thành Nam? Who made up these lines? I can’t remember, but that person as well as everyone else sure loved us very much. And I love you so!)
Do you know Wuthering Heights? About Cathy and Heathcliff, the two young children playing in the moor as if there’s nothing more to care for. Cathy’s whole world is Heathcliff, and Heathcliff’s world is her. The worst thing to do to Cathy is not to let her see Heathcliff, and the worst thing to do to Heathcliff is to not let him see her. I’ve always felt the same about us. I am alive, fully and excitedly, when I feel you’re there. May life never bring us apart, ‘cause I can’t stand to lose you and I’d do anything to selfishly keep you forever with me. Because we’re meant to be.
To be you, to be me. To be the kids are we.
March 2, 2008