And I Love Her

A love like ours could never die because it was never alived to begin with. Sometimes I can’t really tell if my wife loves me or not. I think she does or else she wouldn’t bear all that pain to give birth to my wonderful boys. I would never experience what she had gone through, but I get it. Let’s put it this way. If I was the one that had to give birth, we would have no kid. Yes, I am a pussy and I know it. She knows it as well and I am not afraid to admit that in this marriage, I am the bitch.

My wife is a strong, independent woman. Sometimes I even doubted me role in the relationship and just asked her straight out, “Why do you even need me? You seem to be able to do everything yourself.” Sometimes she responded, “I don’t know why either” and sometimes she just gave me that you’re-such-a-dumb-ass look. Whenever I can’t find the right answer, I always draw back to my mom’s theory: either she owed me something in her previous life or I’ll have to pay her back in our next life. I hope it’s the latter because I do want to be with her again if there’s a next life.

As much as we irritate each other to dead at times, we always think and care about each other. We knew from the beginning that the journey ahead of us is rough and treacherous, but we can make it through if we don’t let go. One of our favorite quotes from Lê Uyên Phương’s was “Rồi mai đây đi trên đường đời / Đừng buông tay âm thầm tìm về cô đơn.” (Later, on the journey through life / Don’t let go of my hand to seek your quiet solitude.) These have to be the toughest years of our lives together, but we’re pulling through. Hold on my love, please don’t give up on me. We’ll walk right up to the sun hand in hand.

Bonjour Vietnam