To my Mr Chong
You remind me of my father (even my mother says so!). Your honesty, the way you store your socks in supermarket plastic bags, and how an offer can sway you to buy two packets of Lay’s (“it’s cheaper that way”).
You remind me of the elder brother I never had and always wanted. You protect me, stand up for me, and get abit possessive when I innocently talk about other guys who did this or that.
Sometimes, you remind me of me. Like when you strolled over to the Clinique counter of your own free will yesterday, and proceeded to correct the sales assistant on the function of the two aftershaves she was recommending you. That was impressive. And scary.
But mostly, you remind me of you. How we can laugh together uninhibitedly. Your occasional outbursts of himbotism (me: “what noise does a bunny make?” you: “boing?”). Your daily “good morning” text message. Your patience, care and increasing sensitivity to my hints (I’ve since found that the easiest way to drop a hint is simply to say, “Dear, this is a HINT”.)
Thank you for loving me, caring for me and adamantly refusing to buy me chips. Thank you for your continued commitment to making this work. Thank you for being my best friend- and so much more.