Kata. Evening. Khao Pad Kratiem Jay & Love.

The other night, Charlotte and I had dinner together at the market near our hotel. We usually eat at different times since Charlotte practices Hot Yoga in the evening, and I take the morning session.

Sixteenth time in a row for me this morning, and tonight is Charlotte’s nineteenth. Crazy.

We’re doing this to feel better, to stay strong, and to keep being flexible as sixty-year-olds.

After all, it’s at this age, between 60 to 75, that we all hope to be healthy and fit – so that we can continue to travel, create, and enjoy life – without our bodies complaining too much. We know health issues will inevitably arrive, but why invite them earlier than necessary?

According to the hotel’s scale, I’ve lost just over four kilos in less than three weeks. It’s likely mostly burgers, beer, and bourbon that have been burned off – things I find a bit too easy to indulge, but much harder to shed.

My metabolism has definitely ramped up during these weeks, I can feel it. But the plan going forward is to not indulge more than what my body needs. To eat less with my taste buds and more with my brain. And to embrace the Japanese principle of “Hara Hachi Bu.”

Back to dinner.

As we sat there at the market, eating “Khao Pad Kratiem Jay,” garlic fried rice with vegetables, Charlotte suddenly said she loves me.

I looked up, smiled, and responded just as spontaneously, “And I love you because you love me.”

I’m not sure why I responded that way, but I meant it. Knowing that you are loved, and feeling loved, means so much to me. It gives me strength and security.

Sometimes, when I think about the fact that there is actually someone who loves me – despite all my shortcomings and quirky traits – I become deeply emotional.

It’s far from always that I love myself, and I tend to focus too much on all the baggage I still carry around and how it can still cast a long shadow over my dreams, ambitions, and joy in life.

In a week, we’ll celebrate our twenty-sixth wedding anniversary. I’ll be 84 and Charlotte 82 when we celebrate our golden anniversary in 24 years. I hope we make it. But if we don’t, there’s something comforting in knowing we’ve come this far.

Being an old couple, both figuratively and literally, sharing the strange turns of aging, exchanging experiences, and finding a common path forward makes the inevitable journey toward “the ultimate cliffhanger” a little easier.

Sure, I can sometimes be envious of friends who are single. That uncompromising existence without negotiations, debates, and democratic decisions must be nice. But for me, being single would probably end in disaster.

I know that I need to be guided, supported, brought down to earth, and praised when it’s warranted. And to hear that you are loved for who you are.

Just as I love Charlotte for who she is, sitting across from me at a bustling market during one of our many adventures together.

The photo is from last night’s spectacular sunset here in Kata Beach.