Perhaps We Shouldn’t Have Moved at All

One year fast forward to present day, Here I am thinking that maybe it is easier if we didn’t move out from our first home together, me and Ted.

It was an old single storey house, very simple- with white walls and dis-functioning key holes- spacious kitchen that I constantly whipped up something, connecting toilet that sometimes I played hide and seek with Ted, the creepy back yard that costs us a bomb to clear, the leak on the floor that is just mind boggling ( I mean, where did that come from? underground?), our empty living hall that is just calling us to sleep there since it is very cool downstairs compared to upstairs.The rooms! we ended up switching rooms every month (3 months we lived there, three rooms),the yard that envisioned to have barbecue party but never did, the dining hall that I loveee( it’s ugly but i just love its function-dining) and ooh- the noisy Indonesian maid next door….

It was a very humble beginning for us both me and Ted. We moved in with what little savings we had and the owner was kind enough to give such a low rent for a big house. The house was practically empty when we moved in- there was only a dining table and the chairs were all either squeaky or about to broke in half any minute any one sat on it. That’s it. We didn’t even have a TV (both our previous house were fully furnished so we didn’t buy any furniture) and most nights we spend on watching any series I have on my external. I sew the curtains for every window right after we got the keys to the house because they were so bare! people can actually see us! The cleaning up of the house was not easy. I mean, rat droppings everywhere especially that small storage under the stairs are just heaven for them and I ended up scrubbing the floor- alone! never have I felt so tired and excited at the same time.

What I love the most about the house was how connected we were to the nearest Musolla and mosque. You can spot us easily waking up at wee hour in the morning riding the motorcycle to the musolla and perform our morning prayer there before we go to work.

I don’t know anybody there so I ended up closer than ever to my husband (is there such a thing?) which is fun. In that house I felt truly married- I cook aplenty, I went to the mosque/musolla, I was driven for work due to the previous activity, I do laundry, I clean up. Really- I functioned.

Perhaps we should not have moved at all. Sadly, we did.




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