I Almost Divorced My Husband, But I Went On Strike Instead

Disclaimer: I want to do a lot of things, but I don’t have much time to accommodate everything. The article below is open for interpretation, and it’s a result of my attempt at writing a multi- purpose article. The article below is written because:

  • I’m participating in a writing challenge in my writing circle that begins with: Write a coherent article that contains:Queen of the  Nile, Duracell Bunny, battery, Genie, pollution, Disney’s movie, Medieval slave.
  • I need to write a book review that I’ve been procrastinating from writing.
  • My desire to write up a Labour’s Day dedication to all overworked ladies who are wife and mother, but don’t quite have the time to do it, so yes, this is a Labour’s Day dedication.

I don’t know about you ladies out there, but for me, married life is not exactly a bed of roses. If a friend ask me what married life is like, I’d scornfully say it’s like working without the benefit of medical leave or any other advantages that’s applicable to other employees all around the world.’Vacations’ or a ‘medical leave’ is extremely hard to obtained for us wives. Well, at least to me, it is difficult.

Being married sometimes would also mean that you can be subjected to verbal and emotional harassment from your in- laws, and yet, you don’t quite have the rights whatsoever to drag your in- laws to court because more often than not, such action shall undermine your marriage because your other half gets all emotional over it and consequently, the marriage will turn sour and things will be ugly indefinitely.

Ask me how it is like to be a mother… I’d say: Quite like a Medieval slave in a feudal Lord’s household, cuz there’s endless chores to be done, tonnes of responsibility being placed on the shoulder, absolutely no escape, no bloody rest even you’re halfway dead and not to mention you shall also be the subject of society’s scrutiny if you failed to educate your children to be up to par with their peers.

Ask me what’s the advantage of being married… perhaps I’d say free, legal sex, though not necessarily safe all the time. That is an advantage, of course, if you have a libido like a hormonal teenager and your other half is actually good in bed and bent on pleasing you first before pleasing and satiating his own carnal needs.

If you don’t quite fancy having sex or the man is the kind who likes to please himself without taking your needs into consideration, then such legal advantage is of course, not an advantage and it’s just another chore and responsibility in your already long list.

Of course, I’m not saying that marriage and motherhood will be the same with everyone. Some women managed to land themselves some precious catch where their husband spoil them like the Queen of The Nile. They are the Queen of the world and need not lift a finger to even eat.

I only feel that way because at times, I feel that I am not appreciated and being taken for granted. I feel that way because people expect me to do everything and refuse to pick after themselves and see me like some sort of automatic machine that will do everything for them whenever, whatever they want to be done.

They also think that I am not entitled for some good rest. Perhaps, they are under the illusion that I am a Genie. Whatever they want, they’ll just wish it and I shall make it appear. Want a drink? No problem, just state the wish to me and I’ll make it appear. Want something to eat, no problem too, I’ll make it appear in a jiffy. Want money? Want massage? Sure, no problem. I can make it appear too and they do not even need to say the magic word ‘please’ or ‘thank you’.

I do wonder if I’m blue in colour… like that Genie in Disney’s movie Aladdin. I must be a higher class Genie, though… cuz apparently, the wishes people can ask of me is not just limited to 3, and they need not thank me for it because they probably thinks Genies like me won’t get mad and leave them because I’m under some unbreakable, binding contract that will not allow me to leave.

But of course… higher class Genie like me need not to live in an old lamp. I guess I’m luckier than any other Genies cuz I actually live in a house. Thank God for small mercies. I hate to think that I’d be confined in a lamp throughout my tenor as a Genie. I’m terribly claustrophobic, if you must know.

Sometimes, I tend to think I look like some noise pollution technician too, cuz every time there’s noise in the house, I’d be expected to fix it and make the noise go away.

You see, I got extremely sick and tired of that; to be seen like some sort of furniture that blends in the house perfectly. I wanted to be treated like human again, so whenever I feel that it is too much, I’d just go on strike and stop doing whatever I am expected to do. No cooking, no cleaning, no babysitting, no whatsoever.

Enough is enough, and one enough as for what it’s worth, even an employee have their rights and access to annual leave or medical leave. All they need to do is just apply it and they will get it. I should be entitled to some sort of relief too. I ought to be given the rights to say ‘NO’ when things does not sit well with me or when I am exhausted or when I’m ill. And I definitely have to be given rights to have a ‘ME’ time without being disturbed.

After so many years, I have come to realize that I’m not a toy bunny that’s running on Duracell battery that can go on and on without stopping. I’m just a bunny that’s running on a re-chargeable battery, and when the battery is depleted, I need to be recharged so that I can work efficiently again. I want to be appreciated. I need to make people see the importance of the role that I’m playing in the house.

I suppose, some ladies out there are feeling the same; things are too much to handle at times but just dare not voice it out or rant it out for the fear of being judged. It’s all right. I am sure you would know when enough is enough and put a stop to it and set things straight again and make people see you as a human once more instead of just a wish granting Genie or the inexhaustible Duracell Bunny.

Perhaps, you’re overworked and under-appreciated too, but do not know how to stop being overworked and be appreciated once again. Perhaps, some of you are tempted for a divorce. But trust me, sometimes, divorce is not the solution and will not make such problems go away. In fact, sometimes, divorce will only make things worst and brings up more issue.

All you need to do is just say ‘NO’ whenever things gets too much for you and make people see your worth. Don’t know how to do that? Perhaps, this book can help.

Title: I Almost Divorced My Husband But I Went On Strike Instead

Publisher: Cedar Fort

Imprint: Bonneville Books

Pub Date:8 June 2011

ISBN:9781599555171

I Almost Divorced My Husband But I Went On Strike Instead by Sherri Mills. In my opinion, this is a must have book for every wife and mother who overworked and under-appreciated. It teaches you how to turn that monster of a kid and that chauvinist swine of a husband back into an angel they used to be in the most effective and subtle way. I received a digital ARC of this book from the publisher Cedar Fort via Netgalley and I must say, this is definitely a self-help treasure. A 5 star book. If you’re an overworked and under-appreciated wife and mum, do yourself a favour and get a copy of this book when it’s released.

Cleffairy: Happy Labour’s Day.

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Ogre prince and his beautiful wife…

Disclaimer: This story is fictional. Any coincidence is purely unintentional.

I’m a little bit rusty with my fairy tales. Been quite some time since I do this, so, please forgive me if this sounds rather… ridiculous. But… I really do want you guys to give me an opinion on this. This may not be up to par to my Farm Stories or even my old Muyyi Skywalker tales that cracked up the hearts of many. I’m afraid, 2009 was a year that did not really inspire me to write my very own fairy tales, and I think, now that I’m feeling particularly inspired, I better write them down before my Muse decided to go on her long MIA again. ( My damn Muse always goes on MIA…stupid bitch!)

Here goes nothing. This fairy’s tale is not suitable for children’s bedtime stories, though, cuz it’s Cleffairy’s very own tale… so tell them at your own risk.

Long, long time ago, in a kingdom not so far a way, there live an Ogre Prince. He was not handsome. In fact, he looks like Shrek. Huge, green, and ugly. He’s not nice looking at all. He’s a grumpy prince. He drinks blood for breakfast, and human that has been quartered and roasted for lunch and dinner. This Ogre Prince, he was so evil that he  plotted to get rid of his own twin brother so that he can ascend the throne when he aging father finally died. What a royal family, I must say. The father must have been wanting to die desperately,seeing that he had such an awful son to even begin with.

One day, when the Ogre Prince was riding on his old horse who will die anytime soon out of  old age in the forest, he heard a melodious female voice singing. The Ogre Prince was captivated with the siren-like voice, and so, he decided to follow the sound of the voice and was immensely pleased to find that there’s a beautiful bombshell of a maiden, bathing naked while singing at a waterfall.

The bombshell of a maiden was cleaning herself up in a rather erotic manner, leaving less for the imagination and immediately, the Ogre Prince was aroused with the scene played before him.

The Ogre Prince was so horny, you see. He wanted so much to toss the maiden over his shoulder, bring her back to his luxurious castle, dump her unceremoniously on the bed, tie up her hands on the headboard and devour her the way he desires.

But the prince was rather smart. He knows that if he wants the bombshell of a maiden in his bed, he must get her into his bed willingly. Besides, he’s the kind who is scared of pain. He wouldn’t want her to struggle and and kick him on his manhood while he was about to do his deeds. Na… uh… that wouldn’t be good for him, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t want his little brother down there injured. It will be a waste, cuz he can’t screw anymore bombshells to his heart content if that little one down under can’t perform.

And so, this Ogre Prince stole the beautiful maiden’s clothes that she has taken off before she cleaned herself up. And when the beautiful maiden looked for her clothes in panic, the prince made an appearance, and offered the naive and unsuspecting maiden his shirt to wear. The dumb maiden  was of course grateful, and the most idiotic thing was, she followed him back to his luxurious castle when he sweet talked her into it.

The maiden became a guest at the Ogre Prince’s house, and he lavished her with jewelries, and millions of dollars. This is no ordinary fairy tale, so, the girl, though did not fall in love with the damn prince for his good looks and good behaviour, fell in lust with his bling -blings and cashy -cash. And so, when he proposed to her, she agreed readily.

And like any other fairy tales, the prince married the girl, and of course, there’s hot, romp sex involved. Things started to go wrong when the Ogre Prince showed his true colours and began to demonstrate his sadistic streak towards his new teenage wife.

The Prince’s wife freaked out of course, and wanted to be as far as possible from her marriage. She ran back home to her mama. And so, mama dearest took her back in, with loads of nagging and scolding of course.

Her mama wasn’t so pleased that her daughter not only talked to stranger, but followed him home, and married him. It would have been okay if the stranger really did love her truly, but then again, he just wanted to use her to slake his lust. Her mama is a sorceress, you see, and so, she placed protection spells around her so that the Ogre Prince couldn’t find her, and she’ll be spared from being abused physically and sexually again.

The Prince cries foul, and demanded justice be served. He looked for his wife high and lows, and when he couldn’t, he goes to a higher council who usually defended his kind, to search for his wife back. He wants her back in his bed badly, and it hurts his ego that he got ditched by a lowly woman who happens to be his wife, no less.

They searched high and low for her, but they couldn’t catch her and toss her into his bed again, for the girl’s sorceress mama is very, very powerful, and has all but send her pretty little daughter away, far away from the prince’s kingdom.

The prince was pissed. Extremely pissed. Who wouldn’t be pissed? He spent million of dollars to lure her into his bed, and now what does he get? A hard on and the whole world laughing at him cuz he couldn’t control his woman and tie her down. And so he went to the council, and made a demands that she must return to him as soon as possible and do his bidding. Not only that, she must return him all the money he gave her when he was luring her to his bed. He also made a demand that she be loyal to him and return to him immediately

Now, the story is coming to it’s end. Til this very day, the prince had to deal with his frustration, cuz the wife was too scared to go back and let him abuse her further. She live… safely, though not so sure if she found her happily ever after or not. I can be more than sure that she will be happy elsewhere and find her happily ever after if she didn’t return to that blasted husband of hers.

Neway, kids… the moral of this story is… don’t talk to strangers. You’ll never know if they have bad intention like marrying you just so that they could make a sex slave out of you. So, beware of strangers, kids. Don’t talk to them, or even take the money they offered you, even if it’s millions of dollars in cold cash. It might be a bloody trap that will make you not only loose your virginity, but also loose your freedom to walk on the street freely.

Cleffairy: The world is a creepy place. So please, beware of strangers. When in doubt, choose looks over dough. A poor man can’t harm you as much as a rich man can, and walking away would have been easier in the worst case scenario.

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When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

From Jewish Art, edited by Grace Cohen Grossma...
Image via Wikipedia

I stumbled upon this in my email this morning when I was having a cuppa tea, and somehow, it made me ponder. So, my married and unmarried readers, I’d like to share the story with you.

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy.. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife.. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I’ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I’m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry.. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.

She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don’t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain.. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever.. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.

Cleffairy: Unfortunately in the real world, bitches always have their ways. 🙁

To my married and unmarried friends:

This is a very touching story, please read it slowly, I’ve read it more than twice….

When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy.. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife.. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I’ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I’m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry.. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.



She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don’t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain.. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever.. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.

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