What would Socrates say about our unquestioned drive to love? An unexamined life is not worth living. Would an unexamined relationship be not worth keeping?

I have made things difficult — not because I enjoy the sufferings of dangling gratification in front of me. I simply think that it is necessary to be aware of my own actions, rather than falling into the relationship mould carved out for me.

It is cheered upon when others hear that someone is willing to move cities and careers for love. How do we know this is worth our time and investment? Put a value to it like an economist would. Calculate the discounting rate for a longer time horizon. Is this an examined relationship?

It is also understandable when someone is willing to compromise on the everyday mundane. Who gets a say on the water temperature of the washing machine? Should we get a dishwasher? Who is making the bed? Do we show sufficient interest in the foods of each other’s culture? Are you walking too fast? What is the cost of our good time at an alfresco seating? Is this also an examined relationship?

Finally, wedding vows tend to repeat that partners are supposed to share dreams and aspirations. They work towards the same goals. But are these goals worth having to start with? What if buying a house together, spending holidays together, throwing parties for friends together etc. are just things we pretend to like doing together, or things we think a couple should do together, or things we get pleasure out of because we don’t know better? Will an examined relationship burst the illusion of comforting togetherness?

I have spent more time questioning my thoughts than acting on them. I am ready to examine but not ready to stomach the meaninglessness of all of these. I am ready to pretend that I know enough but not ready to make amend. This is indeed just the start of an examined relationship. Will I collapse from exhaustion and beg for mercy in front of the Truth?

The Truth may be nothing more than an empty box. Just like an empty house to which I return everyday. As soon as we are sure about something, we have stopped engaging. As soon as we think we know who our partner is, we have stopped relating. Emptiness may drive one to keep examining — this relationship that may or may not be worth having. Before we know it, we find ourselves checking into Heaven. That’s probably the trick of a long lasting and perhaps fulfilling relationship.

You asked me the other day what love was.

I avoided eye contact with you before I dived into those fragments of intimacies.

The next time I looked up. I had an answer. It’s what you remember it to be.

Love is never experienced in the moment. That is passion. I said passionately.

It is a thing of the past. It takes reflection to unearth.

Finally, doing the right thing pays off.

We are talking candidly without the guilt of infidelity.

I am taken more seriously as a scholar who is humble enough to absorb differing perspectives, and assertive enough to carve a niche for intellectual works.

My weight is maintained at the same level as the day that I left Australia, despite my binge over kartoffeln in Dreisden, croissant in Paris, strawberry mousse in London, and homemade sushi in Denver. Light exercise works.

Keep searching for the right people to talk to about my passion. I have found some pretty good listeners and doers.

Love when there is no hope. Hope when there is no love.

我的回應是 你的抽泣 我能束手冷觀嗎

我把手伸過去 輕撫你微微顫抖的手 一起握住方向盤

臉朝著另一個方向 忍住淚水 還得好好溝通

“對不起，我剛才下手狠了一點，我不能再忍受我們錯下去.”

然後 將手心轉移到你的肩上 安慰地捏了一捏

你回神後 冷靜地說

“你有一種狠勁兒，屹立不變，頑固極了”

我仰望著天空 Denver的雲好平靜 我的心亦是如此

“我可以對你有同理心，但是你的情緒，不會影響我的決定”

其實你知道嗎 真正對你好的人 是將我們的情感 提昇到另一個高度

不能再與污泥糾纏不清了

我們的起點

要像Denver那天的天氣一樣 晴空萬里

In love, I have found the intrusiveness of passion. It demands absolute attention. It wouldn’t forgive a less than optimal; nor does it prescribe realistic specifications. It has this vague vision — this warm fuzzy feeling when someone wraps their arms around you; an act of complete acceptance, at least in that moment which is as illusionary as anything assumed to be eternal. And the illusion gobbles up any sense of reality until one is wrecked, stranded and exposed. The destruction reveals who you truly are. Lonely and scared, but uncompromising in the pursuit of intimacies.

So I have to face death at the same time to neutralise the passion. The aftermath of intermittent destruction, love leaves you hanging on the Cross. And salvation is always around the corner if you are willing to look death in the eyes. When is the end? How do I ought to live? Death sucks up all the pain. It whispers to you: listen to the ebbs and flows of time, you are but the wavelet that swirls freely in the chaos and crashes on the shoreline. It humbles me. I have to surrender. In the same way that a Christian would in front of the God; that a Buddhist would in front of insurmountable sufferings of all sentient beings; that a philosopher would in front of the question of ‘what matters’; that an astrophysicist would in front of the theory of everything; that a lover would in front of the imperfections of falling in love.

The destruction and reconstruction give rise to new questions: how significant is our solitude, and how insignificant is our presence. We continue to love and die, simply to reconcile the two.