Posted in friendship, relationships

I Remember The Boy

Dear Someone I Used To Know,

Last night someone sent me a photo of you. You’ve reached another milestone in your life, and it made me feel incredibly proud. It also made me a bit sad, remembering a time when I used to be the first, instead of the 100th, to hear about the latest happenings in your life, a time when I would have been there to cheer you on as you reach for your dreams, instead of just seeing the fulfilment of it on a Facebook status.

I know enough now to not idealise what we went through. I know I made mistakes and held on longer than I should have. Still, I can’t find it in me to look back on that time with anger or regret. For better or worse, that experience made me who I am, and its a reminder of a time when I allowed myself to really feel, to give everything I have in the name of that stupid thing called love. And its an incredibly entertaining story to tell at dinner parties and reunions. 

I remember many things about you. Your face is indelibly stamped in the part of my brain that stores long-term memory; I remember your smile and the way you used to tease me relentlessly (especially about my weight). I remember your love of the ocean, and 90s RnB. You hated polka dots, and it used to be a fruitless exercise trying to engage you in any interaction before 9am.

You used to have a real love for food, and the bonds of our friendship were cemented over gyoza and a bowl of Katsudon. You hated studying, but you’ve obviously gotten better at it since, if that MD next to your name is anything to go by. You used to love driving, and I used to love having you drive my car when you couldn’t use your own. I guess I used to live for the moments when I could pretend we were something more than we actually were. 

Who do you share your secrets with now? It used to be like pulling teeth, trying to get you to open up about what was happening in your life. I think its because I was such a blabbermouth back then; as close as we were I think a part of you never trusted me to shut up about them. I’ll have you know, yours were some of the few secrets I really kept. Maybe that was because for a long long time, my feelings for you were my biggest secret.

Are you happy? I hope you are. Despite everything that happened, I have many fond memories of us. You were always there for me when I needed you, especially when I needed someone to sort me out as I go through crisis after crisis. And despite the fact that you didn’t really know that my biggest crisis was YOU, you knew enough to be careful with my feelings when we found ourselves in a situation that changed the landscape of our friendship.

Last night I dreamt we were playing ‘Tong-Its” ,of all things, and laughing like we used to. That’s why I find myself writing about you on a rainy Saturday morning, when I once promised myself I would never write about you again. Isn’t it funny, though? I’m never as good at writing as I am when I’m writing about you. You’ve become my muse, and I won’t be surprised if someday I end up writing a book about you – certainly there’s no shortage of material in that regard.

My memories of you stay with me, even as I give away pieces of my heart to other people. I don’t look at those memories in quite the same way anymore, but I suppose part of growing up and moving on is the ability to see things from a different perspective, to see the truth in the lies we used to tell ourselves.

Time passes, things change and feelings inevitably fade.

I don’t remember what it was that I used to feel for you, but I do remember feeling them; and while I don’t think of you that often anymore, I know I will always remember you.

 

 

 

Posted in dating, romance

Of Sushi, Crabs and One Great Loves

Because Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, I wanted to share a slightly weird, unique and hopefully interesting love story about – of all things – sushi.

California Maki and I met when I was in my first year of college. At that point in my life I was still determined to stick with things that are comfortable and familiar. It had never occurred to me that college was the perfect time to gain new perspectives, new experiences and remove the one-dimensional label of ‘Smart Girl’ that I had effectively inflicted on myself. It never even crossed my mind that I could be anything more than the girl who got good grades and from whom you copied answers off from during gruelling long exams.

California Maki didn’t seem like my kind of dish at first. It was nondescript compared to other elaborate and infinitely more delectable looking dishes in the Japanese cuisine. It wasn’t even that exotic when you compare it to other sushi rolls, its basically just crab stick and mango (or avocado depending on where you are in the world), nothing to get excited about. However, it oozed appeal in its simplicity, in its nonchalance, in its lack of care for what other people thought because it knew that once you’ve had a taste of it, you’d always be coming back for more. 

California Maki and I became partners; it made me believe in myself – in what I am and what I could be; it made me laugh and gave me joy and made ordinary days extraordinary; it gave me comfort when I needed it, it became my sounding board for when I had problems. I’d lose track of time when I’m in its company because it was during those moments when I felt like I could be myself and still be connecting with someone something that understands and accept me. California Maki was one of my closest friends in the world, perhaps my best friend, but it grew to be more than that as time passed. I fell in love with California Maki almost before I even realised or admitted it to myself.

I chose to ignore the fact that this was something that would never love me back; I tried to mould myself into someone who would be deserving of its regard without realising that love doesn’t have to be earned, its something that’s given unconditionally. You do not have to go out of your way to make someone love you, the right person will just love you for no other reason than love itself. In my quest to make California Maki love me back, I forgot the very things that it sought to teach me in the first place: that there was more to me than I thought, that I was capable of anything, that there’s a whole world full of rich experiences for me to explore, that the world is bigger than this small love story between me and sushi. 

It took me ages to get over California Maki: it was a long process that eventually ended up in me moving halfway across the world. I’ve loved other kinds of food since (British, Spanish, Chinese, Indian, Italian and Australian), but whoever said that you never forget your first love spoke true. I find myself taking California Maki out of a box labeled Regrets and What Might Have Been from time to time and telling myself that even though I’ve lost some of the best years of my life loving him IT, maybe its good for me to know that I’m capable of loving something that much and maybe someday I can finally give that love to someone who deserves it and who will love me in return.

By the way, if at this point you still think we’re talking about sushi, unfollow my blog! Lol

I dreamed of California Maki last night, as I often do sporadically without knowing why. My subconscious just conjures up visions or memories of him IT at random moments in my life but usually when I’m tired and feeling particularly unguarded and vulnerable. I guess its a reminder that some things stay with you because they’ve left an imprint in your life, and you may not end up spending the rest of your life with them but your life has been invariably changed because of them, and that’s okay. You wouldn’t be the person you are today without the people who’ve come into your life and shaped it – and shaped you.

Like I always say, everyone has a One Great Love. California Maki just happens to be mine.

Wherever you are in the world, whatever you happen to be doing on the 14th, I wish you joy, I wish you every happiness and I wish you’d at least think of me and us from time to time. Happy Valentine’s Day.