December 14, 2022

My dearest,

Sometimes my left thumb would reach out for my ring finger, stroking its sibling to check if I am wearing my wedding band.

This is a reflex, of course, not something I consciously control. An impulse, by its very nature, is not something we wield yet there seems to be a greater force at work here.

Perhaps my fingers know that when I am wearing my band, you feel closer to me even when we are apart.

Sometimes that distance is only three BTS stops away, from Ari to Ha Yaek Lat Phrao. Sometimes it is a two hour flight between Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur. We have been on entirely different continents before, of course.

It does not matter.

My thumb caresses my finger, assures itself my wedding band encircles it, and we are in each other’s arms, hugging the way we do whenever we reunite, after continents and countries and cities apart or train ride away or simply because we feel like it.

There is a ritual to the mornings when we do wake up next to each other, slipping our bands on our fingers. I place yours on yours, you place mine on mine, and it is as though we have exchanged wedding vows anew.

And so, every morning is a celebration. Every day is a gift. And the greatest gift of all is you.

Yours, ever and always.