Azim....

Melancholy. Sentimental. Emotional. Bored.

I am all of the above.And a little bit more. While my photos are uploading, I 'd like to go on and on about my Glasgow/Edinburgh trip ....

...but I just don't feel like it coz those would require happy thoughts and I just have.....sleepy thoughts. Sleepy and all of the above-mentioned.

Azim has just left for his KL trip and yes, I am quite indignant that they've rostered him for a KL a DAY before mine instead of putting us together on the flight. Before he prepared for his flight earlier, we snuggled up and watched another whole round of FRIENDS, the last few episodes and had a hearty good laugh. And now..it's oh so quiet. Shh...shh...I already miss him.

I love him. I've said it enough but I can say it a million times more. I love Azim. He is almost perfect. My mother has always told me, find a man who loves you more than you love him. And I think I have.

He cooks for me. A hell lot more than I cook for him! He's really very good with the culinary stuff. I'm just a typical frier or I eat things raw. Yesterday, he cooked up a really nice steamed fish dish with vegetables. Today, he blended a whole bunch of fruits, bottled the juices for me and stored them in my fridge to supplement my Azim-away diet. He brings me out to fancy-pants restaurants and indulges me. I'm sorry but I am mollycoddled to no end when it comes to food. Maybe he just wants me to get all fat like I used to be. Heh.

When I return from a trip, I'd walk into my apartment, exhausted and almost always, all my candles and tealights would be burning and the air would smell sweetly of one of my essential oils. And he would be waiting for me, with his arms outstretched for a hug to take the flight away from my aching body and crying feet.

When I get a cut on my finger or anywhere else, he checks it everyday and insists on dabbing his legendary Minyak Gamat. He says a little incantation or two, one of the many ayats he has memorised and assures me that besok dah baik. It's quite juvenile of me to believe him but I get a loving kick out of his action hero/magician tendencies.

When we go shopping, he will insist on carrying all our bags, even though I know he's almost staggering under the weight. I'll eventually have to use force or a threat of celibacy to get him to give me some bags. He'll usually give me one. Out of the twenty that we have.

When I cry, he lets me wipe all my hingus on his shirt. And lets it dry there. In the hot Dubai sunshine. If I were him, I'd biarkan the hingus to berkerak on my nose instead of drying it on my lovely Hugo Boss T-shirt.

When the pair of Prada shoes I wanted were not available in my size, he secretly went all the way to the other Prada boutique and got those heels for me. My size.

I don't mean to go all emo on my blog but I can't help it.

Sending him off earlier, I realized how MUCH I yearned to go on ALL my flights with him and how much, sometimes, I nearly take him for granted.

Honey, it's been two years. And a lot more years are on their way. I'm betrothed to you and I'm in love with you. Hopelessly.

What a sweet, sweet deal!

By the way...our Birmingham and some Melbourne pics are up in my fotopages. Take a peek.