This is a piece of autobiographical fiction. Space and time have been rearranged to suit the convenience of the book, and with the exception of public figures, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s.
This story is written as an example to anyone who wants to believe that we are more than the patriarchy deems us to be, more than our limitations, and more than our fears.
4th January, 2020
Thus far, Gideon and I haven’t fought yet. We’ve still managed to be polite and civil to each other.
In our messages, I still call him ‘b’. Why? Out of habit I suppose. But also because I didn’t want to be forced to move on when I’m not ready to.
He still calls me ‘b’ back too. In fact, this morning before he left for work, he came into the room and planted a kiss on my forehead.
I had already woken up but when I heard him open the door, I closed my eyes again and felt him plant a soft kiss right where he usually does before he goes to bed.
I remember the many times I would wake up when he has to go for morning duties. While he got dressed, I would pack his lunch and send him off before feeding the cats and cleaning up the house.
For 2 years in that house, I was his wife. I did his laundry, I cooked his meals, I made sure that every time the coffee beans are out, I would go to Serangoon Gardens and buy some from the Italian coffee roaster. I knew his favourite food to cook – Chicken curry. I sat with him every night as he came home to tell me tales of his day. Stories from work. I knew all of his friends and their callsigns. I also knew all of the gossip they would spread to each other. I didn’t think that Airforce pilots would gossip so much with each other. It was like a network. They have whatsapp groups, telegram groups, brocodes, all to hide little secrets for each other.
I never liked the idea of marrying a military guy, let alone an Airforce pilot who’s been trained to be a weapon. Having been a junior diplomat for Singapore when I was young, I was acutely interested in world politics. I have a deep interest in finding out why countries go to war. It’s a natural interest for me. I always saw the world as one big place full of people who had the power to collaborate and coordinate with each other. But alas, reality is such that we live in a world often manipulated by a few groups of people in power. People who would use weapons, use arms, use soldiers to get what they want – Power.
In turn, the rest of the world has no choice but to arm themselves up in case they ever got attacked. They use weapons, arms, solders to achieve what they want – Defense.
This is the world we live in. It’s already hard to live in such a world of constant tension and power play. Yet here in a town called Mountain home, I was living in my own living hell – full of tension and power play.