Letters by Kenny Mah

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Never ask why

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April 30, 2013

Hey you,

You text me: You are done with work and walking over to where I’m waiting for you. What’s next is what happens without fail daily: We ask each other what’s for dinner.

It’s your turn. No, it’s YOUR turn. And so on.

As we battle for the right not to decide the venue for our evening meal, I can’t help but smile. This is ridiculous yet so precious at the same time.

Some days (when we have nothing better to do), we can’t help but wonder why we are the way we are. Will this happiness last? Will things change. Why do we work? We are so different. And so on.

It’s rubbish, of course.

What we really treasure are the arguments over where to eat, the farting and the nose digging, the watching over each other when one gets sick, the holding of hands while sleeping.

Everything else, no matter how great the excitement is or how deeply stressful the bad times are, they pass.

Five years together, I’ve learned never to ask why anymore. I’m just thankful we are the way we are.

Yours always and always,

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