“don’t worry love, i’m not going to let you starve.”

it was such an alienating experience recalling this back. it felt like it’s been forever.

when was it again? i think it was last summer, when we were on the canoe-camping trip. it’s sad to think that that weekend, (and the Toronto trip afterwards) were the most spontaneous my life has been this year. sad but true.

if i closed my eyes and think hard, i probably would still remember a decent number of things he said to me when we first started. but i’m just here at one thirty in the morning waiting for my black varnish to dry on my nails because, even though halloweek isn’t exactly a favourite holiday of mine, it didn’t feel like it was long enough- and i’m tired. i don’t feel like thinking too hard. all i want to do is wait for my jasmine tea to steep enough for it to reach a good and fragrant bitterness. and write. and reminisce.

now that i think of it, a lot of our conversation revolves around food. aside from the classic “have you eaten?” or “what did you eat?” or “oh, you ate with your friends? how was it?” during our short-term long-distance relationship, he once asked me how much i loved him, and i answered, “this much.” when i asked him back the same question, he told me, “i’m sharing my food with you. that is how much i love you.” we were sitting in front of the burner on our last night of camping, and we were eating instant noodles together after a long day of canoeing and swimming in the lake- add to that, in the dark, because he hated how the light attracted mosquitoes. and i laughed at what he said, because at that time it was somehow relevant.

i wouldn’t say it was real love… maybe something more than ‘like’ but certainly not ‘love’; it could be due to the fact that the L word was forced out of us too fast… by whom, i don’t exactly know. but ‘love’ has always been hastily mentioned like it was nothing, and i knew that ever since the bus ride home from the camping trip- probably even then, i knew that what happened five days ago would eventually happen. just probably quickened by distance, and everything that fell in between.

the reason why i am reminiscing? i don’t exactly know. i am in the process of moving on, and obviously teetering in the edge of a dangerous zone like this is not helping, but a part of me wanted to be a sentimental bitch and indulge in nostalgia. the first day after hurts, for sure. but it was most likely because it was recent. the next day, and the day after that, though, wasn’t at all that bad. was it because i was just preoccupied? or was it because he is far away, distance being both a reason and an antidote? maybe it’s a good thing. but everything started to feel like it was a dream, like it was not real to begin with. it was as if i was sliding in between parallel universes, where he was real in another world, but not here.

and even for me, it’s funny to think that i’m actually doing this to myself because i think i’m forgetting him too fast, and moving on too early. probably the only people who can identify with the nonsense that i’m writing right now are people who have been through these themselves; but regardless of this, and all these complex idiosyncrasies that i can’t exactly put into words, being in a relationship with him was easy, and if there is this indescribable form of love that fits in the category of our affection, we did love each other in that version; he remembered my birthday, which makes one of us, and at one point, he was exactly what i wanted. and i’m really really happy, and grateful, that he happened in my life.



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