Throughout the boat ride, I never let go of his hand, and I think he doesn’t mind at all since there isn’t any form of struggle.

He gently wraps his arms around my shoulder so I can keep my balance and avoid too much bounce from this wavy ride.

I feel like I am dying right now as if my stomach is about to burst or go out of my mouth.

This seas-sickness is killing me, so I weakly inquire to him, “How much longer?”

He taps my shoulder and holds my hand tighter, “Any minute now, hang in there,” he blissfully answers.

And he’s right. After the longest minute...