Traditionally, a honeymoon is a holiday taken by newly wedded couples to celebrate their marriage in intimacy and seclusion.
Strictly speaking, Bear and I are not going on a honeymoon as we are not married. But the intimacy and seclusion part still applies.
Plus, it is the first time that we are travelling together to a somewhat foreign place, spending every hour together for around three days, with no one else to distract us.
Perhaps that’s what makes honeymoons so special for newlyweds too—being able to live in their own little worlds with no other social obligations. On the other hand, such proximity can also expose habits and flaws that were previously unknown to the other person. In other words, a honeymoon trip can serve as a compatibility test.
But I’m sure it is not a hard one. It’s just Cameron Highlands after all, a place which I currently associate with strawberry farms and tea plantations. Everything sounds mild and pleasant there, though nowhere as exotic as mainstream honeymoon places like Maldives or Bali.
But this trip means so much to me.
Rather than being thrilled at the thought of exploring a new destination, I am more thrilled at being able to go on a couple trip that I would not have been allowed to go (had I not kept the couple thing a secret).
It’s amazing how such a short trip, with its simple itinerary can stir up complex emotions, mainly a combination of excitement coupled with a tinge of guilt.
Even before the start of the trip, I am already dreading its end. That’s when Bear and I will go back to our busy, stressful lives with a little too much on our plates. The same goes for married couples; when they return from their honeymoons there are work to catch up on, in-laws to please, and some of them start having children. This means at least 18 or more years of never-ending chaos.
It also does not help that Bear and I will start experiencing “withdrawal symptoms” every time we part. Call it the “honeymoon syndrome”, haha. I don’t know if we would experience more severe symptoms of that after we’ve parted, after having been glued to each other for three days.
And I don’t know what the remedy for that is. I don’t even know when my next getaway with Bear is going to be…
But I do want Bear to know that as much as we like and want to be around each other, we will have less of that in the months to come, but we will need that, whether it’s for self-improvement or for making more bucks.
We cannot compare ourselves to her friend, who stays in the same hall of residence in the university as her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Bear and I live…1.5 hours apart.
I know that Bear is sometimes not ok with that.
But nevertheless, I appreciate the times where we cannot be physically together.
It’s still a wonderful feeling, every time I look at my phone and find out that she is looking at her phone too. It feels good to be furiously typing away to her while knowing that she is there waiting for my texts and putting her thoughts into our conversations. Sometimes we get too engrossed and chat into the wee hours, but we never forget to say goodnight before hitting the hay.
As much as possible, we try not to keep each other waiting or guessing, and unless we are really caught up with something else, we don’t leave a conversation hanging and then disappear for hours.
We also do not give each other half-assed replies, or have “cold wars” lasting over a full day. It usually does not take long for us to make up, and go back to sending each other diabetically mushy stickers on Facebook Messenger.
Maybe that’s what you’ll get for being in the honeymoon phase of a relationship—it makes everything associated with the other person seem like a honeymoon.
With or without trips, we want this honeymoon to last.