Day Six

"..can you meet me halfway,

right at the borderline,

that's where I'm going to wait, for you.."

Dear lonely isle,

Whenever we needed something, we went out and shopped for it.

What if what you needed was a man?

How does one shop for a man?

Unlike the inanimate, unalive dress, shoes or bag that a woman buys, a man is somewhat different.

For one, before you can bring him home as a purchase you've first got to get him to agree to that particular proposition.

So how does one get a man to say yes to 'I do'?

Like any other merchandise in Malaysia, choosing the wrong man will result in much unpleasantness in the attempt to get your money refunded, which is unlikely to say the least.

That aside, how do you know which man to choose?

Unlike clothes, shoes and bags, again, a man is hardly something you can buy several of to, you know, to change as and when the occasion demands.

The law states that one woman can purchase only one man at any one time.

Assuming I am to be a law-abiding citizen on this, how does one choose the man? (Of course, bear in mind that the man has to be conned into choosing you as well, so self-selling is of vital importance)

Do you buy the first shirt that you see?

So asks my mom all the time.

The shopping rationale behind this is very true, as most shoppers know. Sometimes we purchase something a little too quickly and find out later on that we made a rash choice because good things come to girls who wait.

But then again, sometimes the right choice merely depends on timing.

Something that didn't suit us then, may suit our fancy now.

As our mentality and needs change, so do our choices.

Something which may have been good for us back then, may have become the wrong choice now.

I guess, the same goes about men.

So how did our mothers do it? Finding the right man, the one whom we refer to right now as 'dad', or 'daddy', or 'father', or whatever it is that girls call their fathers these days.

At some point in life we need to stop choosing, and pick one already. And then bring it home and try to live with it.

But as every shopper also knows, despite the first shirt question above, sometimes we do find the first shirt to be the right one. And sometimes, we realize this after we've gone into every other store and seen all the other ones available. Perhaps there really was something about it that caught your eye the first time you saw it. And then, when we've finally decided to go and get it, after a lot of thinking, consideration and heartache (from parting with money), we find that it was already sold to the lady in red (or blue, or black, or green, insert your favourite colour, whatever, it doesn't matter. That lady isn't you.)

And then what do you do?

To say that you should have bought it sooner is rather unfair, as you were just being prudent.

And when it comes to shopping for a man, which you can only marry one at a time, being prudent is the most prudent thing one can do.

But what if you think you know he's the right one?

Sometimes we do get these little...signs, feelings, hunches, intuition, that this is it.

And we can't always be sure if we can trust it.

Then there's also the matter of convincing the dearly beloved other half (the purchase-to-be) to agree to your insane idea of marriage, and then from there, to convince both sets of parents that it isn't complete and utter madness.

It's just one of those things that seem incredibly and totally ridiculous to both yourself and your parents, but is actually rather normal for someone of your age.

It's just one of those things that seem incredibly far off to yourself, when in fact, you know that it should be incredibly, and probably uncomfortably, near, as an outsider looking in.

It's just one of those things.

I saw a bridal fair today.

When the lady at the counter asked if I was going to get married soon, I couldn't help but to answer yes.

Maybe the biological clock is ticking, and I'm finally hearing its cry of alarm.

Or, maybe I am right and this is it.

Am I scaring you yet?

If you plan to run away, let me go with you.

Love, Joyce.