Nursing this fever makes me nostalgic and I long for Mama’s lugaw and pineapple juice. I didn’t bother to tell her I’m sick because I know she has too much up on her sleeves, too. Besides, Kulas is doing a great job taking care of me.

The storm is over, I hope—literally and figuratively. I don’t want feeling like that, though I know that is bound to happen again, as marriages are wont to be. I guess I’m tougher this time. I’ve learned a lot in just a couple of months.

Privacy is one thing and honesty is another. We should learn how to tread the gray areas, though. And accept it.

Learn to respect each other’s individuality. Never judge the other. Never point fingers. Love, hurt, heal. Live. In the end, keep each other’s center.

Two months, honey. Thank you.