I like watching B drink. Like many Asian men, he gets the glow. The flush starts below the line of his collar and spreads upward into his hairline. The vessels in his eyes dilate and the irises turn black and shiny, no differentiation between pupil and iris. His eyes look like Smarties. I think about licking them. Another asahi and I start making visual threats. Because he was a friend I can threaten to lick his eyes without being misunderstood. Because we slept together - just once - he can say something about my boobs, and it makes me laugh.
T, on the other hand, is complicated. Or maybe it is me who is complicating things. He orders a girly drink and offers me a taste. I tell him it is too sweet. Too sweet, I am flippant, do you not remember me at all? I don't like sweet drinks or sweet boys. Haha. And he is hurt, morose. I apologize; I should not make this kind of joke. Because we once were in love. And it is not funny. He has questions about things I do not remember. I promise him, lightly, I would have fucked it up anyway if he hadn't, but I do not think he believes me.
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7 comments:
It appears that the both of you have wounds-still-too-fresh inflicted by the other.
Still-too-fresh is interesting because it has been more than fifteen years. But maybe some wounds just don't heal.
I find this particularly interesting as I had a recent encounter with a man I loved madly when I was 22 and had not seen in all the years between. We met in July and I'm still not sure how I feel about who he is now. It also hurts that his memories are not as complete as mine, even though I know that not everyone has an eidetic memory. It's hard to accept even now that he meant more to me than I did to him. (And, he is married to a woman who is 25 years younger than he is.)
It seems like love at 22 never really fades much; stays nearly as intense no how much time passes. I want to say that I do not think the poor memory necessarily reflects a lack of significance or importance placed on the relationship. At least, I am sure it does not in my case. Though I seem to have forgotten some things that were important to him, like events we attended together and conversations we had, I remember *other* things, like the reflection of sunlight on his hair and the smell of his wool jacket. I remember very much how it felt to love him, though I lost track of other things. I expect there are things like this, about you, that are completely unforgettable.
I really wish there was a "like" button sometimes...
Love.
Cheeky little monkey, init? x
Like like like love.
Once I saw a movie in which scientists wrote the word "Love" on a piece of paper and taped it to a glass of water. They taped "Hate" to a different glass. The next day the molecules in the two different glasses were behaving completely differently. The love water was smooth and calm and orderly. The hate water was disorganized and scattered.
I imagine that the water in my body does the same thing when I infuse it with love. And I imagine this is healthier for my body as well as my mind, my spirit.
Love is what I meant. Even when it's a bit messy, it's still good.
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