“A what?”
“A tumor”
“A tumor as in the cancer kind of stuff? The one that can flip you from alive to dead in the blink of an eye? You’re kidding me, right?”
The day I was told I had a tumor was the most eye-opening day of my life. You think you’ll handle news like that with strength, to stay positive, be brave. But then your mind takes off on its own, making connections you never imagined.. And suddenly, the question crashes into you like a freight train: What if I’m going to die? Read more
I’m in the middle of a book about marriage—borrowed from a friend, like many of life’s biggest questions. Marriage has always stirred something in me. Not just curiosity, but a kind of restless wonder. Among all the existential questions that occasionally camp out in my mind, a few wear wedding rings.
I still remember a moment from my teenage years—one of those imprints that time doesn’t blur. My mother, with her unshakable realism, said to me: “Every marriage looks perfect from the outside. But once you’re inside, there’s no guarantee that your home will ever feel truly peaceful again. Arguments creep in when you least expect them—usually over children or money.”
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what she meant. Now, it echoes louder with each page I turn. Marriage isn’t just about love. It’s about negotiations, mismatched expectations, and figuring out how two people can keep choosing each other through chaos and calm.
And I keep reading… trying to make sense of the mystery.
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