“Love is Patient” is not often uttered these days, though in my distant youth, I remember seeing stickers with those words. I guess the saying is going out of fashion in today’s fast-paced world where we expect everything instantly. If things don’t happen as soon as we want it, we simply walk away to pursue a new venture instead of practising Patience. This is why I love the song that has been spreading like wildfire, Despacito.  It’s lyrics include these lines:

Step by step, soft softly
We are going to get caught little by little
When you kiss me so skillfully
I think that you’re malicious delicately
Step by step, soft softly
We’re going to get caught, little by little
And it’s just that this beauty is a puzzle
But to put it together here I have the pieces

******

My partner and I, we have a few important pieces still that don’t fit together despite the amazing love and the years. Yet our characters – that of two fiery, explosive and passionate tigers circling each other – would not thrive if one has to be subdued in deference of the other. He would hate it – as I would – if I had to hold back for the fear of upsetting him and vice versa. No, love for us means coming to each other completely naked, with kindness, and without the conditioning of past hurt, ego, insecurities and mind games. We are far too old, and have seen far too much, to play games.  What we have is far too precious to risk, too, because one without the other is not love.

But sometimes, in the glory of full nakedness, the other’s true intents, desires and ambitions are difficult and painful to embrace. “Sometimes, I lose hope in us. We want such different things,” I would tell him, but you know what, he never once wavered.

He’d give me his hand, his steady hand. “Hold on to this,” he would say. “Love will see us through.”

Hmmm. But I’ll be patient, because love is patient.

One of the biggest bones of contention between us is where to build our last home and live out our lives. “I can never live in a flat in London or a cute cottage in your home county,” he often said forcefully. ‘The tweeness will drive me to an early grave.”

“And I can never live anywhere else but England,” I often declare. “I am in my fiftieth year, and I don’t intend living in a mud hut in Africa or a beach shack in Asia.”

A few months ago, he went away for a few days of solitude on the Isle of Skye. He walked and cycled for many miles on his own, soul-searching. He found a deserted croft and stayed there for several nights, watching the sea lashing at the cliffs with nothing more than seagulls and wildlife for company. On some months, this island is completely cut off from mainland Britain.

Neist Point, Skye:

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He came back from Skye, disquiet.  For he had hoped that this was where we would settle finally. But after a few days in the splendid grandeur of Skye, he knew that I couldn’t live here in my old age, being cut off from my beloved family.

He said nothing, but held on to my hand tighter, as another door closed.

“Maybe we don’t have to be together,” I ventured timidly. “We’ve had the best of each other, and in the deepest sense, we will always have each other. We don’t need to share a house.”

“No, I’ve waited all my life for this. There will be a way. We just need to be patient.”

Patience, patience, patience. Because love is patient.

And we walked on, day in day out, hand in hand, just loving being with each other and grateful for this opportunity to be part of each other’s life despite the important pieces that don’t fit. I appreciate him more each day, with the uncertainty looming, without having the answers, at how stoic he is.

Then before I left Phuket a week ago, as we were out on our nocturnal wanderings, we came across this lovely, secluded enclave of small apartments in the backstreets of Phuket. They were small: just one bedroom and a light, open-living space, but each apartment has a small body of aquamarine blue water in front of the bedroom and living room. That somehow transformed it into a magical space, the tiles of deepest blue that housed the water, a calmness and representation of the Javanese sea that we love.

We stared at these magical cubes in wonder, the solution becoming apparent, and a big grin spread across his face.

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“How about we transport one of these to your beloved New Forest, Jac?” He asked happily.  “We can have our simple Asian life in your neck of the woods, hey? Grow bamboo trees, like.”

Yes, can do, love, and cheap enough too especially if we build our dream home from disused shipping containers 😀 😀 😀

So you see, Patience does come through in the end, when the time is right of course 🙂 Despacito, my dear folks.

Great homes from $1800 shipping containers, click here.

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Here’s a beautiful song for you when you wait ❤