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I was browsing through my emails in the past (like 2-3 years ago), and I found something I wrote for Mark back in 2006. This was around the time we got together and well... the rest is history. Unbelievable. I have to ask Mark if he remembers this. AND I have to scrounge my email for more vintage writings.


There are some things in life that scare us...irrationally sometimes...like shivering at the thought of nearing an edge of the cliff; like the involuntaryshudder when one enters a dark, cold room; like the inevitable fear of a woman giving birth for the very first time.There are also some things that shake us to the core...life-changing events that stay with us forever...instances when you realize you'll never be the same again...like a 6-year-old getting her ears pierced for the first time; like amother hearing her baby's first solid cry after birth; like falling asleep for a hundred years and being awoken by no less than the right person.I feel that right now. I feel alive and terrified at it. I feel rejuvenated and overwhelmed at the thought that i couldn't do it myself, i had to wait for you to come along. And you did come along...which means that you could go away anytime as well.I would like to be with you everyday, never mind if forever is just fictional.But I would also like to cradle myself from the pain of losing you.I would like to take the leap, spread out my arms and plaster a big fat grin on my face, as i laugh at the world, feel the wind on my face, and fly.But I'd also like to be able to surface once in a while and feel my bare feet touch sand and water.I would like to hang on, and hold on to the little faith I have left...But I would also like to let go and never look back on the pain...just be myself without the chains of the past holding me down.I would like to wake up in the morning and feel renewed at the very sight of a single ray of light from the sun. And be warmed by life's ultimate gift of love and hate, life and death, happiness and sorrow...and know that they all belong to me and that i belong to them.But i would also like to belong with you and belong to you...and maybe if I'm lucky enough...have you belong to me too.There are some things in life that scare us irrationally...and then there aresome that shake us to the core... To me, you are both.
-emma

Simple Question, Creative Answer

This is the article I submitted to the required 'answer' to the employer's question: What is your favorite movie and why do you like it? React if you must. *lol*

There is always a certain amount of solace and comfort I get from watching Marlin bicker with Dory and then eventually getting along together; from studying how Nemo manages to make friends in a such a small closed space and how he manages to overcome his fears; from realizing the sharp and extremely stark difference between living free in the vast, beautiful ocean and living in it imprisoned in your insecurities and worries; as well as discovering the colossal distinction of being a captive in an aquarium, and spending your days trapped in it but liberated from any doubts or qualms…believing deeply that someone, someday will save you, but believing more firmly that you will find a way to save yourself; and how, after all the shark chases and adventures, after all the whale-watching and turtle-surfing, after all the despair and memory-loss… everyone ultimately finds one another. This film has taught me loads about friendship, about family, and most importantly about standing up for yourself and finding strength and courage even when in the midst of a very uncertain situation. Yes, who would have known this childlike, candid and innocent animation would teach me to grow up.

The One Who Got Away

When I flip through a magazine or pass by a certain mall store with my ex’s face plastered all over it, Mark always teases me about it… He’d murmur at me teasingly “Look…the one who got away.” The thought has never failed to fluster me. Do I think he’s the one who got way? Maybe for some time before I did. He was not an ideal guy. But being with him became quite ideal at some point in my 18-year-old life. Yes, we were 18. And fun-loving and reckless. He was the six-foot, half-Swiss guy in my class whom I initially disliked. And for some bizarre twist, we ended up together. But only for a few months. I was different back then. I was secure. I had friends I loved to death. School was more than manageable. I was contented. I was happy. And then he came along and was the cherry on top of an already-delicious ice cream; the icing on top of an already-sweet cake; the bonus round of an already-won game. And although it was an easy-going relationship that we had, and I was always the one who was not really serious, who did not really grasp on the fact that he was sought-after and yet he was with me, the one who was always accused of valuing my friends more than I valued him, our inevitable break-up broke me. Although I thought differently back when I was in the middle of that storm I went through, I now know it was not so much as losing him that killed me…it was the idea that I failed at something… I failed someone I claimed to love. That was what broke me. It changed me in ways I could never really fully describe. It changed me both in good and bad ways. I lost my sense of security. But I learned to value love and the people I love. I lost my desire in constant nights of boozing and dancing, which was a college student’s translation of fun back then. But I became more serious, more driven, more focused. I lost him. But I found love in a whole new different form and intensity and purity. I found Mark. And the two and a half years we’ve been together has never made me feel surer about anything in my life.

And so now I endure his constant teasing when it comes to my Half Swiss ex. I pass it off as his way of fishing for assurance. And then I whisper to him back with a smile and say: “Let him be. Anyway, you’re the one who’ll never get away.” :)

Love Is...

Somebody asked me what love is, and I found myself re-evaluating my seemingly sad situation. What IS love? I've spent the better years of my life dodging that question by reasoning out that it cannot be defined, it cannot be described, it cannot be simplified nor contained by mere terms... And although part of that is true, I've missed the realization that we can, in fact, try to dissect love, try to explain it, and at the very least, try to experience it. Because the truth is this worn-out cliche...love is all around us.
It's in every little thing that we fail to notice each day because we let ourselves get too cooped up with the bigger picture.
It's knowing with all certainty that you've found someone you wanna get to know for the rest of your life.
It's the four a.m. calls you receive just for him to let you know he's awake and he's thinking about you.
It's the way his hand always reaches out to brush away the stray strands of hair on your face.
It's him always wanting to grasp your hand in his...always wanting to hold you tight beside him.
Love is acceptance. It's him knowing you like burning your corned beef a little when you cook it, and that you put milk on your rice when you eat it. He thinks it's a little gross, but he adores you for it anyway.
Love is sacrifice. It's you leaving home, swallowing the nostalgia, to show him everything else is worth surpassing.
Love is loyalty. It's him thinking you're the best cook in the world, next to his mom of course, when the truth is all you can do is reheat canned goods and boil water for instant noodles.
Love is about gratitude. It's thanking Life and Fate for all the miseries you went through in the past, for you finally found the reason why you had to go through them all.
Love is about changing and adjusting. It's you stretching your limits, expanding your perceptions, making allowances for failures.
Love is about trust. It's you taking his hand each time you step on to the escalator.
Love is about assurance. It's him telling you it's okay to take that first step...He's not letting you go...Ever.
Love is about having butterflies in your stomach. It's not there all the time, but when it comes you know it's for real, you know it'll always be there from then on...you know it's forever.
And most importantly, love is forgiveness. It's you getting your heart beaten and battered, stepped on and trampled, broken and shattered. And yet at the end of it all, when you are no longer clouded by the pain, you always come home to the simple fact that whatever hurt you go through would never conquer the intensity and the certainty of what you've chosen to fight for every single day that has passed and will pass...and although crying may drain you all the hope and faith you have, and you may be scarred and worn out to the deepest corners of your soul...in the very end of it all, you know that what you have is the real thing. And it's worth all the moments you are left dumbfounded. Or speechless. Or numb. Or terrified. Or lost. Or scared. Or hurt.
It's worth all the questions you've never really had the courage to ask.
It's worth all the times you say you can't define Love... because anyway, you have the proof of its existence right by your side...