Long distance

don't kid yourself - it never works out.

Have you ever wanted to confess your feelings without expecting any reciprocity? Your yearn to throw at him all the most cliche nonsense any enamored person would say to her beloved one: that you care about him so much it hurts, that he is the best thing that ever happened to you, that you never felt so yourself around anyone else and that you would do anything to give him the whole world because he deserves it, no less... You want to tell him all of the above and then run away. You have so much more to say but you just can't say it... Not because you're scared, but because all these words are too flimsy and cannot express other feelings that are embedded in your mind - guilt and regret. 

You want to tell him that you are sorry. You are sorry that you were so far lost in your past that you missed out on such an incredible person, a person who was there for you when you were trying to reassemble your heart just to give it away to another person to break it again. You are sorry because you misinterpreted all his efforts to cheer you up as a friendly gesture or just an act of sympathy and failed to recognize the depth of his concern. You are sorry because he has been a shoulder for you to cry on, a listening ear to the never-ending stories of your heartbreaks, while you were putting him through exactly the same hardships you have been venting to him about... He raised you up and gave you faith in people's sincerity and selflessness, he pushed you to continue pursuing your dream and almost lost his. You are sorry that you woke up too late and you would do anything to turn it around and earn him back. Losing him is the biggest and the only regret you ever experienced in your life.

You yearn to tell him that you finally opened your eyes and that you would make it up for the time wasted and you would do everything possible to deserve him. But every time you see him during your rare coffee catch-ups, you push your feelings aside and keep them to yourself. Because you know that such a great person deserves someone so much better... He needs someone who will recognize his incredible personality and selflessness from the beginning and fall in love with him the way he deserves.

We're going to be all right after all

"No offence, it's like you didn't want to talk." I mean, it is a bit awkward, or can be a bit awkward when you haven't really talked to/seen somebody in over two years. In another drunken stupor, I asked to see him again for dinner.

This time I didn't cancel. This time I followed through. He was on time - he never used to be on time, and there would be days when I was waiting half an hour for him to show up. He gave me the tightest hug when I showed up.

We fell back into our comfortable ways - both were cautious at first, but soon we let our guard down and were talking and joking like the old days. It felt strangely eerie and sad.

Needless to say, I got my closure; not from an official conversation, an apology, or from any other usual method that one gets closure from, but simply from seeing that our friendship could be salvaged. We were going to be all right after all.

The things we can't do

Revisiting your past and trying to see it in a different light. I think that's something I just can't do. No matter how many times I try to dress up a sewer - in gold, in sapphire, in diamonds and in silk, it will always just be, a sewer.

One drunken night I messaged him thinking that I was ready to be friends again. I asked to meet up to catch up like old times, before it all happened.

I didn't expect him to respond, nor agree, but he did. I felt trapped. I didn't know what to do, so I procrastinated, like I always do. The night before we were supposed to meet, I chickened out. I cancelled. I panicked and then I started to regret cancelling - what a rude thing to do.

Then I remembered that cancelling on him probably didn't even make a dent upon what he did to me anyway, so why fret?

If you aren't ready to move forward, then don't. Take your time; take a moment to accept the past and see it as it really was. Don't try to dress it up, hide from it, or make it disappear. It happened. It was reality.

The things that we drag on

He apologized. After all this time he apologized. He acknowledged that he may very well be the last person I wanted to receive a message from. He gave me an opportunity to scream, shout, and curse at him.

But I didn't.

I kept it all in and replied in a civilized manner - I thanked him for the gesture, but it came as too little, too late. Had he had all those epiphanies a year ago, we wouldn't be in this position today.

In a way I resented him for attempting to relieve himself of a burden I had secretly hoped he would carry with him for the rest of his life - he did that very thing to his own friend. It's not like I had ever really forgotten about it. Like a penguin encountering the submerged portion of an iceberg during a swim, I just simply avoided it. But like the iceberg, avoiding it doesn't mean that it's not there. I think from time to time and it constantly reminds me how dangerous it is to let down my guard.

How can I ever really let it go? He apologized, and now he can let go of everything, he can get the fresh start he was hoping for. He can tell the next girl: "I was immature and naive, and I treated someone else poorly before. Now I know better and I'm ready to treat you well, it's what you deserve."

As for me, it will always remain there, it will always be hiding away in some dark corner with the rest of the skeletons in the back of my mind. And like every person who has been hurt before, it stays with you - a feeble apology doesn't erase what happened. Those times don't suddenly become better, and as a result, you have become harder, you make sure you never get hurt like that again.

Sometimes I wish he never apologized.

I liked the shit out of you

"I liked the SHIT out of you!" - he exclaimed yesterday trying to convince me that that "thing" between us was something special for him and I wasn't one of his "temporary girls". At that moment I felt nothing but the hollowness, but today when I looked back, I found it amusing that he used those words to try to convince me and make me feel better. Seriously?

The One

My elementary/middle/high school bff asked me today out of the blue: "Hypothetically... How would you feel when you met someone and you know that he is the one and you want to spend with him your whole life?" I was really surprised to hear him ask me this question. Although we have been friends for over 15 years, we never discussed anything related to romantic relationships; we were always just "bros" who talked about soccer, music, movies and pranked our friends. I didn't know how to explain to him my views, as he has never been in a relationship and he claimed that he has never been in love. However, I gave it a shot and described him how I felt about the last guy I dated: "With that person I am not ashamed of being myself... I feel comfortable being who I am as I know that he loves me the way I am with all my awkwardness and flaws. I also know that he will always be there for me no matter what. Even if he is mad at me for some reason, he will keep it in the back of his mind and show up when I need help and support. Lastly, I know he is "the one" if I care about his successes and failures as if they are my own." My friend smiled at me and said: "That's cute. I got it."

this thing people call fate

I think I can finally conclude that there isn't such thing as fate, or destiny. It's whatever path you decide to take as opposed to whatever path you're directed towards by some unknown force. Let's face it. How many times have we gone through the whole "ooooh soulmate", "ooooh childhood friend, definitely soulmate", "ooooh, another time and another place and we would not have met" only to wake up to hard reality afterwards? It's only a fairy tale for the first bit (like in those movies), but what happens after the credits start to roll? You can meet your soulmate so many times, in so many people, depending on who you are, or where you are at that point in your life. So, it's not a matter of having that one soulmate, it's a matter of happening upon someone you're compatible with for that stretch of time, then seeing if what you have can last through the next period of transitioning. I think once we start realizing that, we can start letting go of the past and all these feelings of "lost love", "missed opportunities", and "he/she was the one", "he/she broke my heart". The reality is this - Yeah, he/she broke your heart. So what? While you are stuck mourning and lost in something you can't even begin to explain because whatever answers you want are trapped in the mind of someone you don't even speak to anymore, they're off enjoying their life - without you. So let's live realistically in the present then - be excited for who you're going to meet next and give them all of the attention and affection they deserve. Right here and now isn't a history of sadness and baggage, of things you've always known, just a future of uncertainty and possibility, waiting to happen if you would just be willing to give it a chance.

it's been a year

It's been a year, and I keep thinking that I've almost forgotten. Clearly I haven't though. Every now and then the pieces keep coming back. With 5 days left until the completion of this degree, I'm thinking back to the beginning of this degree, the moment when I was on the brink of tears, trying to figure out whether or not I could leave everything behind and go to school in a new country. It was 5 in the morning, sitting in his car, my hand in his, my clipboard of pros and cons splayed across my lap, hysterically listing off numbers, figures, locations, monthly grocery budgets. He told me to put the lists away and quietly said, "it's what you wanted all along. It was very obvious to me from the start, I don't understand why it took you so long to see that." We stayed out all night for countless nights that summer, counting cricket chirps in the car, spying on the neighbours from our quiet sanctuary, talking, laughing, doing what ever young lovers high off a summer romance like to do. It lasts through phone calls, of quiet, subtle reminders, nervous glances, comfortable familiarity. It ends when you wake up in the morning and it's time to go - the spell's been broken, because we all know what it feels like, there are those hours in the dead of the night when it chokes you, this lingering, briefly nostalgic, chilling desparate feeling of intimacy. Whether real or imagined, whether you hold it in your arms or you dream of it, in those brief hours in the dead of the night, they become a reality for you. But as you look over to the figure sleeping beside you in the morning light, all of the imagined intimacy fades, all you can hear is good bye, farewell - a long time ago, we used to be friends.

Point of indifference

"I love you more than all the stars in the sky, all the grains of sand on the beach." To this I answered, "I don't care".

If you love something, let it go...

If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be...

As a firm believer in the power of human free will, I couldn't understand the deep meaning behind this beautiful quote. How can you let go something and especially someone you truly love? Someone who became part of yourself, whose pain and baggage became your own - that's how much you care about him. I firmly believed that when you work hard and fight for your happiness, eventually you will get it and all your dreams will come true. Just be patient and diligent - it will pay off. "This should definitely work when it comes to relationships", - I thought. If you care a lot about a person, be there for him when he needs you, give him space from time to time and, what's more important, step out of your comfort zone and change for the better to make him happy - he will appreciate it and be yours forever. But apparently I was wrong. This philosophy doesn't apply in all situations. Any relationship is a two-way street. If a person doesn't feel the same way or his feelings withered away, you can't force him to be with you. No matter how hard you try. So just let him go. Don't wait, close this chapter of your life for now, let the person open it if it means to be.

This is what it's like

Oh, I see it now; I get it now. This is how it's supposed to feel. You're supposed to feel loved, you're supposed to feel special. Sure it's fun to sneak around the city at night, stealing kisses in dark alleys, one-way street corners, rooftops, empty hallways, backseat of your car, anywhere vacated. But in the daylight he's so ashamed of your secret affair that he can't bear to hold your hand, nor look you in the eye; it's like you're strangers around others - if you're strangers in the daytime, might as well be strangers in the night as well. He's supposed to call you back when he says he will. He's supposed to feel proud saying your name. He's supposed to be excited to introduce you to his friends. He's supposed to want to see you and make plans without you having to ask. He's supposed to want to see you in the daytime as often as he wants to see you in the dead of the night. This is what it's like to be treated well. That bubbly, excited, warm feeling - this is what we all deserve.

No... no date

"Oooooh! You guys are going on a date?!! Are you waiting for him??" his friend asks. She saw us sitting together as she came up the stairs with a group of her friends. I received the same set of questions from the group of her friends while he was off talking to somebody else. Unfortunately we had been in the middle of a discussion regarding the likely, inevitable, upcoming, and imminent termination of our fourteen year friendship when she came up the stairs.

Just for us

It's been a year, and I nearly forgot about April 22nd. I forgot that I kept that Go-Train ticket from that night I finished my dissertation and took the last bus home to meet you for dinner. I can still remember that view from the top of the building - it was breathtaking. We snuck up onto the rooftop after hours and just stood there, silently appreciating the bustling city from our private sanctuary. Yes, this might have been a special place to you, but this is the only place you've ever known, the only place you've ever built your life. In this big city, you have nowhere else, no one else who knows your name. So let's be real and face it - you take every girl you date here. That's alright though. I'll pretend that on that night, that place was especially just for us.

We both know

Not to brag, but let's talk about this straight then. Let's be honest. If we're going to do this, go for the real deal, complete with the labels, the obligations, the responsibilities, the caring, the boundaries, "really do this", I'll say to you, I'm probably going to give it 100% and more. When you need me to be there, I'll be there. I'll stand by your side. You need me to stay with you until the sun rises, I'll wait, I'll keep you company. But let me also tell you this. Before we begin, I know I'm going to give it this much and more, so I'd much rather not. We both know how this is going to end. It'll save me the trouble of regretting it later on when you don't reciprocate with the same level of commitment. It'll save us the trouble of wrecking this friendship.

Open to

"so would you be open to the idea of falling in love with someone in London?" That was definitely a loaded question. When you don't really stay in one place for more than a year, is it really worth it to lay down the foundation and build something up from the ground, just to have to tear it down when you leave?

Three Days

My brother once told me that all it took was one conversation, one sentence, one gesture, and he would know if he could fall in love with you.

And he loved her for years, and they were happy together even if they don't talk anymore now.

Now, I'm a little more cautious than he is. The night before I left for the airport, he told me I was too ironic for love. I take too long to fall and miss the opportunity to; I over think it. So I missed my chance awhile ago when I got on that plane, and now we don't talk anymore.

But all it took was three days.

It was that smile, or that chuckle as I walked the wrong way when we were walking in the city. It was with the clinking of our wine glasses as he told me about his father and that girl he used to know. It was those jazzy chords on the keyboard and the soundtrack to 2 AM.

It was the kindness and the vulnerability.

And all I needed to see, I found in one conversation.

Fire and Ice - Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

I dare you to

I dared you to hug the penguin statue, and you dared me to sit on the elephant.

We discovered a secret passage under the desks at the library and crawled through the tunnel like explorers. It didn't really lead anywhere, but we couldn't stop laughing.

Maybe you think I have childish tendencies, and maybe I think you're naive, but that's all right because the conversation never ceases to flow.

First date?

I wasn't sure exactly what it was, if it was just a casual hang out between friends or something more. Dinner and playing tunes on his guitar - I might have wished it was more, but in any case I missed the last train home.

Yes, I was definitely not expecting that at all.

Last Year

Last year on this night, you called out my name in a dark club.

I turned around and you were wearing those ridiculous 3D glasses, a lavender dress shirt, and a black vest. I didn't recognize you at first, and it was such a coincidence that we had run into each other in this particular club, during this particular weekend, in this particular city. We danced for a bit to LMFAO's "Shots", and then went downstairs to catch up.

I don't know why, but I sent you a text telling you that it was great running into you, and I knew you never respond to texts because you don't have a texting plan, but you responded to this one, and we met up 3 hours later.

Last year on this night, we walked through the streets of a strange city at 4 AM, and returned to my hotel lobby. Between the laughter and familiar jokes, you reached for my hand and enclosed your fingers around mine. I've let go of other hands before, but I held on tight to yours. We sat in the hallway all night talking about familiar memories and places, just in a different light.

Last year on this night, between the laughter and the jokes, I wished so hard that you would kiss me. So you told me you had an urge to kiss me, and then you did.

Last year on this night, you asked me what was going to happen after, and for a split second, I almost wished that you wanted to be with me. Morning came and you didn't want to leave, but you had to go to catch your flight home.

This year on this night, I thought about you and all of the laughter and moments from that night. After our last conversation in the same time zone, I have stayed away from the positive thoughts surrounding our moments together as to forget they, or you, existed at all.

But this particular night makes me soften a little.

This year on this night, I have entertained the thought of writing a heartfelt, caring letter to you, as I know you've been through some ups and downs lately. I entertain the thought of being the first to reach out after this long winter, this long silence. I have thought about being the first to cross no-man's land and extend this proposition of a treaty.

But I don't. Because this year on this night, I remind myself that you broke my heart.

Midnight in Brick Lane

"Hey, sorry, we went home first. Our friend lost her phone, so we're going to go look for it. Get home safely. Oh, and by the way; you should kiss her," he reads out loud.

He pretends I didn't hear that and we go find the bagel store at 2 AM in Brick Lane.

Best of luck

I never imagined that one day we'd be talking about pharmaceutical or health economics.

From high school sweethearts, walking around in the supermarket talking about Kraft Dinner to discussing student politics at this moment in time.

It never really occurs to you - people enter and leave your life all the time, on a daily basis. You recall saying those very words: You never wanted to speak to this person ever again. But let's take it forward to 6 years later.

I'm grateful, especially when he apologizes for what's happened in the past.

In all honesty

I've spent years dancing around every possible romantic entanglement through using a diverse selection of excuses, pretending that "casual", "fling", and "nothing serious" appear regularly in the vocabulary I use when discussing the matters of my heart.

But when every encounter that starts off as "I'm not looking for a relationship, that's not what I want" ends off with the realization that you had desired the complete opposite, you conclude with a necessity for honesty - not only to whomever you're involved with, but more importantly, to yourself.

Because someone broke my heart

There are times when I could stand on a mountain and bellow as loudly as I can into the roaring wind.

There are times when I could hold back a tidal wave with just one flick of my outstretched hand.

There are times when I could move tectonic plates with just one quick tap of my foot.

There are times when I could race through the Alps without a single care on my mind.

But there is a time when all I can do is lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling, waiting for the day to pass.

This is when someone breaks my heart.

"That's not a fling. That's your soul mate."

"I've been seeing someone new lately."


This is where it starts.

Rational thought takes the wheel again. You left on a plane three months ago and built up these irrational fantasies in your head of an ideal world where romance and fairy tale endings occur. A seven-hour plane ride, an ocean divide, a five-hour time difference, a hasty "I can't do this" at the airport didn't seem to shake the hope from your mind.

But you know why you held onto hope - a few simple words: "who knows how we'll be in 3 months?". You held onto the what ifs. At the airport, you had pulled out the letter that had been hastily handed to you, and you just read it in silence, smiling at the comical parts, and tearing up at the sentimental parts. So you waited - holding onto the 0.00001% hope that it would work out, that he would be waiting too.

Whenever I think about this story, I always call it my summer fling. But they say that a relationship is friendship set on fire - and when I throw in the detail of our fourteen-year friendship, I always get the same response - "That's not a fling. That's your soul mate."

But that was far from the truth; I just always naively hoped it was reality.

While I was busy mapping out y=x, starting from day 1, he was just trying to navigate y=sin(x).

During that summer, we were hopeless romantics with grand delusions of a "great love", an "irreplaceable connection", and yearning for a "deeper relationship". These things allowed us to wear those rose-coloured glasses and dress up what shaky foundation we had blindly built to be much more than it actually was - we were just two kids experimenting with shiny new toys.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I'd like to think this only occurs if the heart was actually fond in the first place. So I've taken off the rose-coloured glasses for now and put them aside.

It's such a waste, but when you look into those same eyes and you can't see what you've always seen for the past fourteen years, it ends with, "I don't think that we can be friends."

Still Crazy - Paolo Nutini

Shut me out completely,
That would not be such a sin.
Lock up every entry,
Make sure that there’s no way for me to get in
Won’t try to pry them open,
Never mind knock upon your doors.
Truth is that there’s no reason for me to even see your face anymore.

But I need your ears and I need them now I’ve got something to say,
I’m not here today to win you back just to remind you that.

Sure as the rain starts to fall,
Yes I’ll always remember you dear.
And though we don’t talk anymore.
I was crazy for you; yes I was crazy for you, that’s for sure.

Nothing's ever easy, I think we both know that it’s true.
I was convinced you loved me, and I was pretty sure that I loved you too,
When was our final moment whats your favourite might have beens.
When was my fatal error that changed the way you thought of me ever since.

'Cause I made you smile and I made you laugh, i made nice gestures and surprised you enough?
But I made you come, but I made you cry,
I wish this was true but I’m not gonna lie.

So sure as the rain starts to fall,
Yes I’ll always remember you close
And though we don’t touch anymore.
I was crazy for you; I’m still crazy for you, that’s for sure.
Still crazy for you, still crazy for you, still crazy for you

My Love - Sara Bareilles

He bends his breath around my name
And i am humbled i feel small, plain
His arms are angels by his side
You need not ask if they're open just how wide

And his lips are day and his skin is night
Ooh and with our love we conjure up twilight
His fingers are music to my soul
And i feel his song play everywhere i go

My love my love is on his way
Can't wait to see the day
I thankfully lay me down oh

Ooh my love my love is on his way
I'm waiting patiently
If you see me now
My love please hurry

And he loves with rhythm and paints with flame
Ooh he comes in pieces with no name
And i won't need answers i'll just know
'cause i've read the sonnets about his soul

He can be ordinary in the best ways
And still dance like a poet
Through every word he says

My love my love is on his way
I can't wait to see the day i thankfully
Lay me down

Ooh my love my love is on his way
I'm waiting patiently
But if you see me now
My love please hurry

All that i never knew
Can you see me now?
Oh all that i never said
Can you see me now?

He makes me crazy
He makes me cruel
Oh but i pray he makes me anything
But a fool yeah ohh yeah

Ooh my love my love oh yeah my love
Please hurry

I almost forgot you...

How long does it take to get over a relationship? I got different answers from different people. For some people it was a long and painful process of recovery, others didn't even have to try - the pain just healed itself somehow...

From my personal experience I have learned a very important lesson. Closure is a key. As soon as you get it, you will definitely make a huge step in your healing process. After a break up, people tend to look back and over think things. It's natural that you want the person you loved back, even if you were the one whose initiative was to end the relationship. You're still emotional, you are so unsure about the future, about the "freedom" that fell in your hands. What if it's a mistake? What if I overreacted? Oh my god, I should apologize and maybe we can work it out?... Getting a closure is like putting a full stop in a sentence... Like burning the bridge to the past. Yes, it's hard. But it's necessary if you want to move on. I kept postponing it for 5 months because I was afraid to get over him. I was supposed to tell him what was on my mind when he came over to end out relationship. But I was dumb, I said I was fine and I had nothing to tell him. The only thing I asked him was to "Take care of himself..." I was such an idiot.

I finally got a closure. I told him what I was upset and angry about. I finally yelled at him. Yes, it seems that nothing will change, we are still ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend. We can't repair what has been broken. But something did change. I feel much better, as if I got something very heavy off my chest. I am moving on.

The last but not the least...

First relationship always has the great impact on a person. Especially if it was a serious one. It always brings the brightest memories to one's mind, no matter how it ends. The first experience sets kind of a bar for next relationships, establishes certain expectations... And maybe even prejudices. We tend to compare our current dates with our ex girlfriends and boyfriends, and often with the very first ones. Maybe not purposefully, but for sure we do.

First love is always a magic. First time in your life you can't sleep not because you have insomnia or you're cramming for the mid-term, but because you get someone off your mind. And you realize that you quite enjoy it. Yes, it might sounds cheesy, but you literally feel butterflies in your tummy every time you cross glances with him. You wish the world stops every time you see him. You really want to text him first, but every time you start typing a message, you inner voice whispers:"He is a guy, he should be the first to text you..." And you stop, but keep checking your phone, wondering whether it was a right decision. This cute-cheesy-happy-waiting period is always unforgettable. For some, this period just ends there, but for the lucky ones (or unlucky?) it develops into a "real" relationship.

You plunge into a world of happiness which seems to be everlasting. Yes, he is the ONE. He sure is. We have so much in common, we did not have any serious issues or fights for almost four months! He said he has never been as happy before. He told me that his last relationship was a torture, he could not move on for years. And I was the one who helped him heal the pain and bring back his belief in real love. And I promised myself that at any cost I will make this person happy and help him forget the past and what he has gone through.

So everything was just perfect and it seemed I was on the right track. All our friends believed end up together for good, they couldn't imagine we could live without each other before. We just MEANT to be together. We already made plans and are working towards achieving OUR dreams...

Life had its own plans... Our dreams became just my dreams... Which will never come true. Yes, I tried my best to make him happy... I was the one who would always take care of him whenever he needed me. I was the one who felt his pain as if they were mine. I was the one who loved him with all my heart. But... I am not his first love. No mater how hard I try, I will never be HER. The scars she left in his heart will always remind him of the story they wrote together and the dreams they hoped to achieve... He will cherish the memories of their first date, first kiss and probably even the first argument... First relationship is always special... And magical...

But he will always be my first. Forever and always.

things that we secretly want

sometimes I pretend that I don't want any of these things - that I scoff in the face of people who have been together for years and still look at each other with as much love and affection as the first time, that I don't want to tell someone about my day just because they make me feel comfortable enough that I can tell them anything, that I don't want to hear about someone else's day because I have enough on my plate to deal with, that I don't want to hold someone's hand and go running through the streets at midnight even with work at 6 AM the following morning, that I don't want to smile when I'm thinking of that someone - that I find all of this unnecessary.

sometimes I think that I can make it through all of this with just the bare minimum. and I can. but what's the point in walking through an endless field of flowers if you can't stop to smell one that is so beautiful that it stops you in your tracks?

but really, secretly, although I've been saying all of this verbally for years - just dip my feet in for some relief, but never dive in, stay on the path, don't stray, stay focused - maybe, secretly, I want to be distracted and inconvenienced.

Sophie and Ryan

Sophie sat down beside Ryan after calling her father. She was waiting for him to pick her up from the airport.

Ryan and Sophie had just returned from a week-long trip to Paris. They had seen and taken in every sight and sound of the city of love – from the fancy baguettes, to the hundred-year-old wine, to the mimes in the street, to the countless number of tourists crowding around the Eiffel Tower, down to the very last streetlamp that went off and the moths that were drawn to it.

Sophie twiddled her thumbs as she sat next to Ryan. She realized that in ten minutes things would change. They would go their separate ways and forget everything that happened in the past week, in the past year. They would go home to their separate lives and pretend nothing happened. She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready to accept that yet – but then again, most days in their relationship were like that. Every time they met was like the first time because they would often forget what had happened the last time they saw each other. Anecdotes became funnier the thirtieth time they were repeated because they were received with as much attention as the first.

Sophie and Ryan met two years ago, yet neither of them could recall how or when. All they could remember was the semester that changed things between them. First it had just been the regular hang outs, between friends, nothing more. A dinner here and there, an inside joke here and there, but it started turning into a regular occurrence, which sometimes extended into the wee hours of the morning.

Just in the right light, with a minimal amount of sleep, endless peals of laughter, a comforting pat on the back here and there, some light jazz music, a few glasses of wine, and a general enjoyment of companionship once in awhile, suddenly it was the right mood. It was no longer just a casual hang out, at least for Sophie anyway. Suddenly an accidental brush of the hand needed to be accompanied or followed simultaneously with an apology because Sophie felt something. It was something uncontrollable and made her feel uncomfortable. Suddenly the occasional accidental glance stolen at Ryan’s face wasn’t quite so occasional or accidental anymore. Sophie had attached some sort of value to the lines and scars on Ryan’s face. She would notice how things would affect those lines and how the contours would move into a smile, a frown, or a pensive look. The lines were constantly moving and changing shape.

Sophie smiled as she remembered the one drunken night at a club downtown. For Ryan suddenly that night wasn’t just a night nursing a glass of wine and pondering what ifs just like any other night. It was a night of fleshing out the two dimensional skeleton of a what if and watching it take solid form. But for Sophie it hadn’t been just any old passing what if. It had been a what if that had passed through her mind several times and had already had the opportunity to solidify. Sophie could only vaguely remember what it was like to cuddle with someone, kiss, and hold their hand for one night, have them whisper their fetish into your ear and laugh a little, then feel comfortable enough to tell him she was a virgin. What Sophie didn’t expect was for Ryan to rebuke her for being so sexually inexperienced. Sophie remembered more what it was like to fast forward to two weeks later and see him look at another girl the same way he had looked at you that night. It was a sick feeling, realizing that you were in essence, your good friend’s one night stand. In a way, she knew that Ryan regretted that night, that he had felt it was a mistake. And it hurt still, to have stuck around timidly and wishfully thinking that she wanted to care for him and hold him and love him, but to be constantly reminded of the fact that he was not looking for anything more than that. It hurt more still to see how quickly another girl removed his doubts.

Sophie remembered still, Ryan’s attempt to make amends by buying her a cupcake yet not making the effort to give it to her. Ryan’s sudden efforts to establish boundaries had come too late, and was met with nothing but alarm and disappointment on Sophie’s part.

Sophie met someone new, one night in another city. She felt liberated and happy for once, to realize that someone’s feelings could actually be genuine and concrete. It wasn’t a constant struggle and a constant debate for someone to accept and legitimize how they felt about her. She remembered telling Ryan about him and how happy he had been for her.

But it was that damn alcohol. Sophie remembered that sinking feeling when she realized the only time Ryan was going to be honest with her was when his systemic circulation was pumped full of ethanol. It was the only time he would tell her how her moving on made him sad, or how he still continued to wonder what if. It was every other sober moment that he held his composure and locked these types of thoughts away. It was sad still to realize that while he was telling her this, there was someone out there who genuinely cared and loved him. The nail in the coffin was when Ryan brushed aside all of these statements as general drunken chatter. Again, Sophie felt cheap and used, for the only moments of weakness, moments when Ryan showed vulnerability to her was when he was intoxicated, and those were the only moments she ever received from him. She couldn’t understand how the ethanol diminished the situation – it was apparently okay to abuse Sophie’s feelings and affections when Ryan was drunk. For while she had the stolen moments from Ryan, at the end of the day, it was not she who he thought of first, she would always be the last thought, the afterthought. Sophie was almost upset to realize that the efforts she had put into moving up and away had been completely destroyed. All because of one drunken night when her friend could do nothing but selfishly overstep the careful boundaries they had taken months to rebuild.

Though being one of the people that Ryan called and ran scenarios in his life by, in the end, every statement commending their friendship would always be accompanied by one letting Sophie know that she was just one of many girls. There was absolutely nothing special about their friendship, she was not a special girl, and she should never think that. It was replaceable and she should never forget that. How long it had taken for Sophie to build up her confidence again, and to have it broken down by Ryan, someone who claimed to be her friend.

Sophie remembered rehearsing lines in her head of what she should say to Ryan if she ever worked up the courage. She should leave him. She should turn around, walk away, and never look back, never remember his name. For in a way, she knew that they had built a very terrible dependency on each other. Sophie remembered thinking to herself sometimes, wondering why Ryan was calling her to ask about something so trivial, or something so substantial – shouldn’t he be asking his girlfriend this?

But that’s not to say that Sophie was equally selfish. She never wanted to hear about her. She never wanted to meet her, and her eyebrows were often raised every time Ryan brought her up.

Sophie reached down to grasp the handle of her suitcase and walked out the door into the sunrise. Time to forget.

In a few years

In a few year's time, maybe ten, we can sit down at the bar, have a few beers and laugh about all of this:

The time we almost went to Baltimore.

The time we almost went to Paris.

The time we almost went to Cancun.

The time we almost went to New Orleans.

The time we almost went to California.

The time we almost went to British Columbia.

The time we almost watched Kina Grannis.

But for now let's just not talk every day anymore and we can just forget how close we used to be.

Christina Perri

Jar Of Hearts

I know I can't take one more step towards you
Cause all that's waiting is regret
And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore
You lost the love
I loved the most

I learned to live, half alive
And now you want me one more time

Who do you think you are
Runnin' round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Who do you think you are
I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms

I learned to live, half alive
And now you want me one more time

Who do you think you are
Runnin round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Who do you think you are


It took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises

And now you're back
You don't get to get me back

Who do you think you are
Runnin' round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Don't come back at all
And who do you think you are?
Runnin round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don't come back for me
Don't come back at all

Who do you think you are?

Who do you think you are?

Who do you think you are?

"Lucky I am in love with my best friend..."

"Lucky I am in love with my best friend..." - sang Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat.
I strongly believed in this until I lost my love and my best friend at the same time.
It is true that when you are dating your friend and especially a best friend, it seems that your relationship will be stable and fun because you already know almost everything about each other, from your interests to past relationships, you have same hobbies and friends and feel comfortable sharing whatever is one your mind even if it is the most ridiculous and random thought.

It is not surprising that a friendship between a boy and a girl will develop into something more. One day you when you are hanging out with your friends, you will suddenly want to stay behind for a bit to spend some time with each other, you will give him this long hug that you habitually give each other every day, but one day it will be a bit longer and a bit more affectionate. One day you will realize that he is so special to you, you will notice something in him you never paid attention to when you were "just friends". You will think about him all the time, but you will be too scared to admit to yourself that you like him, because friendship is so fragile and you don't want to make it awkward for both of you. Luckily, he feels the same way and tells you upfront, but you value your friendship too much to put it under risk. However, after couple of weeks, you can't resist your feelings that grow stronger anymore, and you decide to give it a shot.

... Your relationship was perfect and wonderful, and fun... But well, things happen and you just broke up. You are brokenhearted and confused. You have so much memories that barely fits in your head. You can divide your life into two distinct parts "friendship" and "dating". You have a choice - go back to the first one or go each his or her own way and never see each other again. You try to think rationally: "Well, we were friends before, so we can just go back to the status quo and cherish the memories of our love" But no, it is not that easy. Yes, you can still hang out with him and your common friends, go to the movies, parties, laugh together... But you will always miss calling him with a funny nickname you randomly came up with, you will miss your long walks in the park, you will miss taking care of him when he was sick... And one day he finds someone else you will be legitimately happy for him, because he is your best friend, but only you know that deep inside you wish she was you.

Your Ex-Lover is Dead - Stars

God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour,
Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain
And all of the time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love

Live through this, and you won't look back
Live through this, and you won't look back
Live through this, and you won't look back

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.

Forgetting

It's not easy to forget. I'd say the first step is to close off every door that makes the past accessible to you. It's easy to want to turn back because it's familiar and comfortable - how much harm is a phone call or a message every now and then going to cause? You cared a lot about this person before, so why would it need to change now? How much harm is a simple seashell sitting on your windowsill going to cause?

A lot.

You might come home one day after a long day at work, stressed out and tired, after having missed a bus and fallen asleep on the second one, coming home hours after you were supposed to come home, and having a lot on your mind. You're worried about writing a standardized test and your daily scores maybe aren't as high as you'd like them to be. You need to figure out groceries, utilities, and rent money. You need to study, eat, sleep, and get up for work tomorrow.

But you can't even get beyond the fact that suddenly everything in your room is a blatantly obvious reminder of the year you just went through. You can remember this person looking at your wall and wanting to tear down all of the posters and pictures you had that were covering the entire wall. You can remember this person walking through your room and moving your things around while you weren't looking. You can remember this person sitting on your chair and discussing the future with you.

You sort of feel like you have nowhere to run to and hide because you let this person into your hiding place - the place where you could sit in your PJs and play your guitar, the one place where you could feel small, or feel like the king of a castle, and take off your mask and rest your outdoor voice - the one safe space that usually isn't privy to a lot of people because not a lot of people see your room with the door closed - the X-Men poster plastered on the back of the door is your own little secret; the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling that you put up by jumping up and down on your bed and hammering away at your ceiling with a plastic coat hanger can't be seen unless the lights are off. But you let them in.

So you change into your at-home clothes and start packing away all of the stuffed animals, the cards, the letters, the postcards, the event posters, the event programs, the flowers, and that seashell - you put it into a bag and stuff it into your closet. Then you tear down all of the pictures and posters on your wall and stuff those into your closet too. Lastly, you rearrange all of the furniture in your room so nothing looks the same anymore.

When you finish, it's nearly time to sleep, but you just feel better - like you've already forgotten.

Starting to learn

At a formal event, my friend drank too much and told us his life story. Well, more like stories about his romantic life - nothing too big, nothing too small, nothing too unimportant, nothing too important.

He ended off with, "I can do school, I can do dance, I can do almost anything with my life, but when it comes to girls, I can't do that."

Is it true then, do all of these pop songs, all of these fairy-tale ending movies, all of these glorified love stories in the tabloids, all of those articles in the magazines - are they all a sham? Act like this and you'll be happy, just say this, do this, and you'll be together forever.

But we don't live in the idealistic, emotionless pages of a glossy 245-page magazine, or a 136-minute chick-flick with happily-ever after perfect kisses in the sunset, find you before you board a plane and fly away and tell you I love you and that you're the only one. We live in a world where I talk, you listen, you talk, I listen, (we converse), I act, you react, you act, I react (we interact) - it's a two-way street.

Yes, I am used to working hard to make things work, or to achieve what I set out to achieve - work hard, study hard, get good grades; send out resumes, prepare, brush teeth, put on professional clothes, thank the interviewer, get a good job; go to lessons, practice, stay disciplined, play piano at a professional level. All of this is accessible to me with hard work and perseverance, and never giving up.

But the sad truth is that I can only give as much as you are willing to take. I can work hard and try to make things work between us, but only if you are too. Because it takes two to make something like this work.

To every boy who has ever broken my heart

To every boy who has ever broken my heart:

(Whether it be through his actions or through his words, regardless, it happened.)

Maybe I was too sensitive, or maybe he was too insensitive, or maybe it was a combination of both. Maybe he just didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't the right timing, or my dress wasn't low enough, or I just didn't have stimulating conversation topics, or maybe I just missed all the telltale warning signs along the way. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this, or maybe he isn't, but we're just two stubborn people who think we can have it all and then some.

Whatever the reason was, I'd actually like to thank you-

For giving me stories to learn from, stories to tell myself, and stories to tell others.

For opening my eyes to my own self-worth and what I actually deserve.

For letting me go.

Because when you did, I found out what it meant to be truly happy.

About things...

It's surprising how much you can learn about yourself when you are going through a break up. For example, I never thought it would be so hard for me to get rid of his presents. Well, not to really "get rid of", but at least to hide them somewhere. From myself... Ok, so I figured that I can get very attached to things which remind me of something valuable, someone I love. It took me about four months to remove the stuff animals from my bed...

One is a beaver and another is a penguin... They both have names and stories behind them. I "won" the beaver in a bet. I don't remember what were we betting about, but it was a funny story. He gave it to me the day before my flight home. He wanted me to bring it with me, but I decided to leave it at his place because it was too big. I got the penguin from him after my trip when we went to the CNE. He won it in a game and I picked a prize. I was happy like a little child. First of all because I adored penguins, secondly, because it was from him.

So yeah... Four months. Every time I was going to put them into a box, I just couldn't help it and held them tight as if it would bring him back... And they ended up at the same place. But recently I put them into one of my suitcases after the trip to another city. It felt weird and empty at first, but well, it was a big step.

There are still many other things that I are not ready to remove yet... Maybe it will take another four months?...

School times, good times... :)

I had crush on this guy when I was in grade two. I liked him for six years and I could not get over him until we got into high school. He was a cute blond with blue eyes. We was very smart, witty and one of the top students in my class. He was also incredibly gifted. He was amazing at almost everything: acting, dancing and sports. So it was not surprizing at all how popular he was among girls. I know that he liked me a lot for a long time too and even told me about it several times. But I was a mean girl back then, and pretended that I didn't care LOL Well actually it bothered me how much attention did he receive from all girls in school and how did it spoil him. So I have been hiding my feelings until high school.

Until then the only time where I could express my feelings without being hurt was on stage, during our shows. Luckily (or unluckily?) our drama teacher really liked us and almost always gave us the leading roles, and often of a couple or something close to that. We debuted in grade two as Mowgli and the Indian girl. It was a very cute musical based on the Disney songs. Also we always were dance partners even during high school. After high school we stopped talking, we kinda grew apart... and each of us took different paths in out lives.

Last time we talked was the day before my flight to Canada. He learnt from our headmaster that I am leaving, so decided to text me: "How are you, Canadian girl?"

Life is a funny thing. I found out few months ago that he is getting married this summer. And his fiance is a girl from our school. She was in grade 4 when we were in grade 8. Yeah :)

The name game

"You look like a peach," he said simply, ruffling up the front fringe of bangs I had recently gotten.

"I'm sorry, a what?" I asked, completely baffled.

"A peach!" he exclaimed, ruffling the bangs again.

"..." I didn't know what to say in response.

"Well c'mon, it was better than what I told everyone I thought you looked like before!" he said in defense of his previous statement. "I thought you looked like a horse!"

That was my cue to raise my eyebrows and give a nervous chuckle.

"What?! Horses are cool!" he shouted.

That's your girlfriend?

Well, she didn't exactly say that, but what she actually said was along those lines.

His mom met me through the background picture on his phone. It was a pretty bad picture, not going to lie; to this day still, I'm not sure who convinced me to get those bangs, but they looked pretty bad, and as a junior in high school, nobody looks like their best.

"She's fat and ugly," his mom had said, which he dutifully reported back to me the next day.

Tongue-tied

I was extremely nervous because we were actually just friends. I dropped by to pick up some paints for an English project that was due the next day and he asked me to say hello to his mum.

I walked up the stairs and saw his mum sitting in her room petting a-

"Oh! Doggy!!!" I exclaimed excitedly.

...How did that happen? I was looking at his mum petting their family cat, not a dog.

I guess I was just really nervous, but she never said anything and I never said anything about this first meeting ever again.

Without a thought

When you're young, there will never be a thought that will cross your mind involving your significant other when it comes to the decisions in your life. Things like, "oh, what should I eat for breakfast?" or "Should I go for a run now, or later...?" don't really involve anyone, and the bigger decisions still involving where you are going for school, or work, especially if these involve you moving to another city or country, don't really seem to concern anyone but yourself.

At least that's what I've always believed. Even when you're older.

It's been years, I guess, since that first time when I said I was going to go to another city for four years for my undergraduate degree and that was final, no questions asked.

I guess it came up again when I thought about going to another continent for more schooling.

It comes up in casual conversation, just over lunch or dinner, the casual, "I'm leaving in the fall for _____."

"Oh really?", which is then followed by a slight pause. Of course, there's a congratulatory outburst, but there's an unspoken, "so... what happens to us?"

They don't want to say anything because it'll make them seem like they're not supportive, and they really are, truly, happy for you, if that's what you want. You wouldn't want it any other way, and of course, you don't want to hear that unspoken phrase, because you know, that deep down, you value your choice and what you have chosen. If the decision was between this and the opportunity you have just taken, you know what you would choose first - in a heartbeat.

As selfish as it may seem, that's all that matters to you right now - personal choice and freedom without boundaries or restriction. And you know that if the roles were reversed, you'd be the first to push them away, telling them to go where their heart desires because how can you be truly happy if there are fences built around you?

Okay so I messed up

"Okay so I messed up", except he didn't actually say that. Instead he brought me a peace offering, if you must - a potted plant - more like an orchid actually, and presented it to me during lunch at my house. Then he walked me to class and then left.

"The future is scary. But you can’t just run to the past because it’s familiar. Yes it’s tempting… But it’s a mistake.”

- How I met your mother

The night before

It was the night before a standardized test for a few friends. This was the deciding test - score high and you open most doors to your future.

We hadn't spoken in two months now; the last time was over the phone when he confirmed whether or not I had received the textbooks he sent.

It's funny, really, remembering that at some point you knew this person's schedule inside out; they talked to you about their financial concerns, their future plans, future plans with you, problems within their family, or just about things that occurred during their day. But all that can just disappear in a matter of a second, and once again, you're just a stranger.

So here was one stranger wishing another stranger good luck on his standardized test. It took me a good hour to work up the courage to double click on his name and type those three words: "good luck tomorrow!"

He thanked me and asked how my standardized test went.

Then we didn't speak again until the fall.

It didn't work

"That night, I fed the pieces of the chair into the fireplace and watched them burn and thought only: I will save this. I will make passionate declarations and write patient, beautiful letters that our children's children will find and think, Holy shit, if this were any less dazzling or persuasive we wouldn't even be here! I'll be forgiving as a saint and deliberate as a killer. I will consult the experts, build coalitions and make bullet-pointed plans in motherfucking PowerPoint. I will outmaneuver this by superior wit and pure intention and be the bighearted superhero of love and-

And it didn't work."

-Adam Sachs

Pick someone you like

"We weren't-I don't think-total assholes about it. But baby, we were smug about love. We'd cracked the code. It was all so simple: Pick someone you like to do everything with and just be nice to them the whole way through. We were geniuses."

- Adam Sachs

Let the Post-It note do the talking

Post-It Notes. Those are what we used to communicate as we were sitting across the table from one another at a restaurant during dinner.

"Do you believe in long distance relationships? Can we do this?" he had asked me. He was going home for the summer break and was considering doing an exchange the following semester in another country. That would be around eight months. He had asked me this before, last summer, and we both had been alright with it. We didn't want to ruin the perfectly good evening by the possibility of saying something horrible out loud, so we passed post-it notes to each other and each picked up a pen, writing down our decision.

I remember writing down that "it is going to be hard, but I believe that we can do it." I passed this over to him and he cringed, knowing that his answer was going to upset me. I opened up his note and there they were; the words "NO TO LDR', in capital letters, with the word NO underlined not just once, but three times for extra emphasis on the NO.

"Oh," I responded.

"Sorry," he replied.

"No, that's fine. That's how you feel," I answered.

"So what happens now? I feel like I just put an expiry date on our relationship," he joked.

I remember asking him if he would regret walking away from this, and he said yes.

But that's all I can remember now.

A message from the past

Three days before Christmas, I put a painting in the mail, wrapped carefully in its cocoon of bubble wrap and an outer casing of cardboard. Surely the holiday post wasn't as tardy as I expected, and perhaps it would reach him by Christmas day, or before he left the West Coast for the city our school was in, but it didn't.

His family had been meaning to ship the painting to him, but they never did. He didn't receive the painting until he returned to his home on the West Coast, months after I had initially sent it. By then we had gone our separate ways. Any terms of endearment or affection that had meant so much in the past were just empty words now.

But he carried the painting with him throughout Asia and Europe, and finally, to his rented room in the city we both went to school and tried to return it to me when we met again in the library. I was on my way in and he was on his way out. I said that it was a gift; he should keep it.

It could be in any landfill now, or abandoned in any rented room now, in any continent, country, or city, who knows?

But at one point in the past, the letters and the pictures meant something. It's okay that they don't mean anything now.

Signal to Noise

If you ever took a Statistics course, you'll remember this diagram illustrating confidence intervals. The straight horizontal line with the random squigglies everywhere. The signal being the straight line, and the squigglies being the noise. The closer the squigglies are to the straight line, the stronger the signal is.

I never get rid of old emails,messages, or letters, and just keep them locked away in folders in my account. Who knows if you needed to recall something from the past and the proof no longer exists?

I was procrastinating on working on an essay for a class and went through the folders in my email account when he came to visit me in the library. After leafing through the countless emails sent from Shanghai, it suddenly occurred to me that I had carried a skewed version of the past with me all these years.

He asked me what I was looking at and I explained to him the context and the author of said emails, admitting that maybe the reason why everything fell apart was my fault. He said he never kept old emails and preferred to have an uncluttered account. He told me that he deleted all of the emails I sent him back from first semester. I asked him if he ever regretted this - if he ever wanted to look back, what could he possibly look back on?

He pulled out his wallet and showed me the origami turtle I had sent him in the mail during the summer.

He said:

"This is signal. The rest is noise."

Sweet drinks

He bought me three drinks to demonstrate his knowledge of alcoholic beverages and to prepare me for any social encounter involving a bar, a bartender, a drinks menu, and a chance to impress someone with my knowledge of alcoholic beverages.

Amaretto Sour, Singapore Sling, and a Screwdriver.

Squirrels

It had been a particularly good day. I had just picked up my work contract and tax return forms from my new workplace, we had just eaten at an Indian restaurant downtown, and chased squirrels around all day on campus.

In high spirits, we sat in his room going through his calender and looking at the various post-it notes, killing time until I had to go catch my bus home.

Out of nowhere, he said that he was leaving for six months and asked me if I was willing to wait. I remember saying yes. I remember him saying that, "I don't know, but I have a feeling, and I'm just going to go with it."

I also remember running for a bus and frantically searching through my bag for my bus ticket, turning around to give him a hug, but he kissed me instead. I couldn't really process it because I had to get on the bus, but I might have laughed about it later.

Indecision

"So, what do you want?" he asked. "I need to know before I go home for the holidays."

I thought we already had this conversation, once every day this weekend. I wanted something with him, but I just didn't know what. Or, no, I did know. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't say it because I knew there was nothing I trusted about him.

So I just said, "I know how I feel, but I didn't think any further than that."

Of course I had. Between studying breaks, maybe once during breakfast, maybe a few times while daydreaming in class or procrastinating on assignments, or when I had to ask him for more details about an event our student clubs were coordinating, of course I did. I thought about what it would be like to go on long walks and watch sunsets, talk about the future and our hopes and dreams and insecurities, or make breakfast together and laugh about burnt toast, or call just say to say hi, or write postcards and letters to, or drink wine and listen to jazz and with silent appreciation, or be distracted from time to time. I wondered what it'd be like to care for this person.

"Well, I'm not particularly looking for a relationship right now." he said.

"That's fine," I answered.

No, it wasn't fine by me, but I was just too afraid to say it out loud.

Oh, I'm not really looking for that right now...

I can still remember the look on his face when I said, "I'm not actually looking for something serious right now, I don't think I'm ready." He was taken aback, but offered me a piece of sushi in his Bento box and we continued eating like nothing had happened.

Just be ready for it

I was packing up my life from that year, putting everything into boxes and pushing them into the hallway after finishing my last exam for that year. He called and told me he might go further with her tonight. I said only if he was ready, don't do anything he wasn't ready for.

He called me back and said I was right, that he wasn't ready.

After waiting for an hour in what seemed like an never-ending, never-budging line to get into what was going to be the last night the student club was going to be open, we all dispersed and went to someone's house instead. I saw him outside with her, standing against a tree on the front lawn, while I was on my way out. My friends and I walked home and he called me, panicking that he had just made out with her but it didn't feel right and this was the first time he had ever kissed anyone. We waited for him to catch up with us and we tried to order pizza. He left to go home to sleep before his interview the following morning.

Another school year finished

I had my unwashed hair clipped back with a ridiculously-sized hair clip while I was cleaning out the residence apartment I lived in. All of my roomates had moved out earlier so I was scrubbing furiously away at the bathtub and putting away the brooms somebody had left behind.

He knocked on the door and sat amongst the pile of laundry strewn about in my room and watched as I brushed my teeth. I didn't want him to look but he watched me brush my teeth anyway. He got the job that I called him to remind him about the interview this morning.

We trekked over to another residence building to pick up some stuff and drop some stuff off, then helped my future housemate clean her apartment. He helped me clean a complete stranger's dishes and refrigerator.

We left and made lunch at his house - whatever was left in the cupboards and fridge - rice with creamed corn, cantaloupe.

The yoga mat he bought for one of our mandatory classes came to good use as we climbed out the window and sat on his roof, just checking out what was going on in the backyards below.

Over anatomy and breakfast

It was two nights before the final exam for our anatomy and physiology course. We were studying with another group member from one of our other classes. The three of us were furiously going through lecture slides, every inch of the page covered in highlighter or notes. We studied in the 24-hour library, accompanied by the population of students who probably had an exam the next day and were also pulling all-nighters. By 7 AM we decided to get breakfast at the hospital cafe. Sleep-deprived and delirious, we decided to discuss global health ethics and volunteering abroad. It turned into a full-out yelling match about how medical volunteer trips were unethical. Our group mate sat there dumbfounded and amused.

The fundamentals still apply

"It's not that he has to talk to you, but he has someone to talk to, and you the same. That's why we get into relationships, right? So we can just be like 'yo man, what did you eat for breakfast today?'"

Just your ukulele and my guitar

I just checked the forum and there's a faculty coffeehouse coming up. Let's perform something because we're feeling musically inclined today and our impromptu ukulele jam sessions just won't do anymore.

You came over with your ukulele but we couldn't even get through the first line "Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa" of Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros because I was laughing too hard. We couldn't even get through Tears in Heaven because we were each playing along to different tunes in our heads. We called it a night and you tried to convince me that maybe we just couldn't do this.

But you had to buy an acquaintance groceries (kitty litter and bread) and had time to kill on a Friday evening and I needed to not think about professional school for a night and so we brought our instruments to the coffee shop halfway between our houses. We tried Gabriela y Rodriguez, but their skill level was beyond us, so we ordered pizza and wings instead, with a can of ginger ale and a can of coke. We tried Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's Over the Rainbow and What a Wonderful World, Colbie Caillat & Jason Mraz's Lucky, and Home.

I laughed at how "you put the flower in my hair" and the way you sang the word "ocean". You still weren't convinced that we could do this and that this jam session was just to cheer me up.

But you came over the day before the performance and realized that it was okay if we screwed up because it was just a student performance, and students are forgiving. We practiced with the sheets of lyrics spread out on the floor, testing our vision to see if two nervous people with poor eyesight could read this tomorrow onstage.

We didn't sound like Jason Mraz or Colbie Caillat, but we sure did sound like ourselves, and we sure had a lot of laughs on and offstage.

Flowers...! kthxbi

In high school it was a covert mission of sneaking around doing things you weren't supposed to be doing and seeing people you weren't supposed to be seeing.

He gave me roses one day, but I couldn't even put them in a vase because there would be questions, so I thanked him, and hid them in a dark corner in my closet.

It's this room again

I'm not her, but for tonight I guess it doesn't matter. I wore this last time too. We went looking for the same room on the first floor of this club a few months ago too. I can still hear you saying that you loved the single life and I agreed with this wholeheartedly as you clink your beer bottle to mine and you clink your bottle to the table to those who can no longer cheers, and we toast to being unattached without responsibilities. It's bottoms up. A few months later, still the same club, and I can still hear you saying so what if you were on my mind - were you the only one I thought about?

Tonight, it's this room again, the alcohol's loosened your tongue and your heart as you let your secrets and feelings come from every pore, from every direction possible. I feel a little bit trapped because none of this is anything I want to hear but I sit and listen anyway, as you tell me about your regrets and your wishful thinking - we would have been good together.

But you chose her; the world will keep turning, and life will go on.

He's just an ex

He's just an ex when we're with mutual friends taking the subway to another mutual friend's house party.

He's just an ex when we're pouring drinks into our red plastic cups.

He's just an ex when we're at the table chasing beer caps across its surface.

He's still just an ex when we're sharing a chair because there's only one chair left in the room.

He's still just an ex when he catches me as I slip off the chair because obviously, it's only big enough for one of us.

He's still just an ex when we take a walk outside looking for some food because it's too loud and rowdy inside.

He could still be just an ex when he pulls me close and says he's sorry for everything he did.

He could still be just an ex when I start to cry because I never understood why we broke up and he can't either.

He's just not quite an ex when he decides to kiss me and we'll figure this all out tomorrow in the daylight with a phone call when the mood's not right anymore.

Nevermind a date, let's get married

I hadn't taken an art class at my new school yet, as I got an exemption from taking grade ten art. When I walked into my eleventh grade art class, I remember sitting across from a Russian boy with striking eyes and an interesting demeanor. He always came in late and smelled of cigarette smoke and only spoke up to ask where the conte and manila paper were. I could hardly keep a straight face when we had to draw portraits of each other for one of our assignments. I'm not quite sure what happened, but my drawing of him ended up making his face look slanted and squished, and his just accentuated my already prominent nostrils.

We went to the zoo during the summer and I tried to sit on the handlebars of his bike. That lasted about two meters before I fell off and laughed to myself. When he sent me pictures of us standing in front of the sleepy-looking llama that night, it was accompanied with: "I wanted to ask you something today but..."

Turns out that he wanted to ask me to marry him.

Chicken little

I was in the sixth grade sitting on the back of a yellow school bus with a few of my friends on the way back from an amusement park for a grad trip when I saw a huge stuffed chicken being passed back from the front of the bus. It landed in my lap and I wondered what I was supposed to do with it. Apparently it was for me, from the boy I had a crush on, who happened to have a crush on me too. I giggled, turned red, and then passed it back to the front, not looking at him as I ran off the bus when we reached our school's parking lot.

What was I supposed to do with a large stuffed chicken?

Casanova with the piercing eyes

He was a rather weird guy. Every time he walked into the classroom, everyone started giggling and whispering around. He was an only son of the politician and he was very different from us. He was always suited up, always used only branded stuff and to be honest, he was a bit arrogant. He had this really annoying habit of staring at people with his dark brown penetrating look. I didn't like him and moreover, I was kinda scared of him.

Once in the cafeteria I was walking with a tray full of food. He was wearing a brand new snow white sweater that day. I accidentally touched his shoulder with a tray and have been pierced by his annoying and terrifying eyes. I apologized and tried to walk away as fast as I could. After that incident he started staring at me and my friend even more and I was sure he hated me. Surprisingly enough he decided to get to know us and started talking to us, mostly to my friend because they had more classes together. We both thought he liked her.

One day I fell sick. I didn't go to classes for about three days and my friend told me he was wondering about me. When I got better and came to class, he greeted me very warmly and we became friends. We talked a lot and I realized that he was a very interesting person. He knew a lot about arts, literature and music. He also traveled a lot. During Xmas vacations he went to Argentine and brought me tango music. I was impressed. I started falling for him, but his weird eyes kept bothering me.

He asked me out once, but for some reason I couldn't make it. Luckily. I soon found out he has been asking out about four girls at the same time. All of them were my friends. It kinda funny that they all were A students. Such a jerk. A smart jerk. He was very good at finding approaches to girls. We all enjoyed talking to him. He brought each of us something special from his travels. Like for me it was a CD with tango music, because he knew music and dance are my passion. Another girl got a seashell, and the third one a jewelery. Well, eventually we all found out about his tricks and after that he could not ask anyone out in our school.

Right here, right now

On that day, it didn't matter that he was going to talk for five hours with another girl about sex the very next day and make a substantial connection with her and that she was going to be the one who changed his mind, the one he wanted to settle down with, the one he was sure about, and didn't have second thoughts about.

All that mattered that day was the walk we took as I showed him my old high school, the neighbourhood my high school friends and I used to hang out in after school and during lunch times. It was wintertime, so nobody was at the park, but we went anyway. We sat on the swings and talked about our favourite colours and most memorable childhood memories. Black, teal. A falling bookshelf and being caught underneath it, biking through the park.

We may have awkwardly said goodbye and I may have questioned his motives, but for that particular moment, none of the logistics mattered.

okay, I didn't mean literally

My friends all knew I was trying to find him that night. As coworkers we only exchanged the occasional word about our students and different teaching methods, about what specimens we were going to discuss that week, and if we had handed in our safety training forms yet. Then he had to go and make a PowerPoint presentation for his students for their first tutorial. I was impressed; I explained the course outline to my students in ten minutes and then took them on a tour of the lab.

But when he walked into the club that night, I remember that one of my friends picked me up, put me on his shoulder, and literally threw me at him. He also asked me for my coworker's name, and ran around on the patio, and inside, screaming my coworker's name. I may not have enjoyed ethanol in a beaker earlier that year as it determined 5% of my final grade for organic chemistry, but thank goodness for ethanol that night and how it could make sounds and sights blurry.

"You are fat!"

He was a chubby cute boy. He liked pizza and enjoyed watching "The Mask" every day after school. He didn't do well in school and was pretty lazy. I was a skinny ambitious girl who was always too busy with after-school activities to have a proper meal and to watch cartoons. We were studying together in grade one and then he transfered to another school. However we continued keeping in touch until grade seven. Until I received a little postcard by mail in which he told me that he liked me... After that I disappeared...

He found me last year through our common friends (common friends are everywhere!). He was so excited and wanted to hang out. But I had to disappoint him by telling that I am not in town... and even not on the same continent. Then he told me that he has been looking for me all these years. He started working out and received the black belt in taekwondo after I called him fat lol He got into university and started his own business. He also told me that he was still single. I felt so bad... But couldn't say anything. I am happy he changed. He is successful and very good-looking. But he is the same cute boy I knew before, who loves pizza and "The Mask".

Few months ago he posted his pictures of him and his girlfriend on Facebook. She is very pretty and must be a very nice girl. I am happy seeing him happy. And I don't regret calling him "fat" :)

Just passing time

He lived a forty five minute subway ride away from me, but he would always take me home whenever I went to visit him. On one such occasion, we had to find something to pass the time with, so we played a game. We each picked a subway door, and if more people walked through the door you picked, you won. The prize? Playfully and lightly swat at the other person's arm. I can't remember who won, but it definitely helped pass the time.

Leaving for the West Coast

I'm going to try to find you because we just had an argument and you're leaving for the West Coast tomorrow for the summer and I want to say goodbye. You won't return any of my calls because what I said upset you, that our priorities don't align, won't align, will never align. I'm going to drive to your house and try to find you because you bought six beers and drank two of them by yourself while you were packing and hung up the phone. I'll arrive at your house to find that maybe I'm too late because all of the lights are off and your flight leaves at 8 AM tomorrow. I'm going to get a call from my housemate because all of the doors are open and nobody's home, but you. You took a taxi to my house after you did the majority of your packing and I come back to see you sitting on the stairs looking sad, scared, and defeated. We both know what neither of us can say out loud; that it's over, it's been over for a long time now, but we don't speak of this. We apologize, and I lean on your shoulder.

According to the Constitution... "I love you"

I was in grade eight. One day something happened to my locker and I was unable to close it properly. I was kinda in a hurry so I decided to leave it the way it is and ran to my classes. I remember taking Law that term and it was one of my favourite classes. Yeah I wanted to be a lawyer back then. So one day I opened the Constitution in class and found this lines: "I love you cutie". I was like: "Who the hell could write this and how did he/she get into my locker?" I told my best friend about it and she was surprised too. So out of curiosity I decided to leave the locker unlocked. Every week this mysterious guy left me messages on the first page of the Constitution. Once he even put a postcard in it. I tried to find out who is it, but I never succeeded. I even thought my friends were making fun of me. But noone was aware about this story. The last message I received from him was "I miss you" and a little present - a snowball with a cute monkey holding roses. I am still keeping it in my room.

Let me pencil you in

Let me answer this text message and let you know that I'll be available both Saturday and Sunday at 7 PM PST/10 PM EST. Let you respond again and tell me you're only free on Sunday and that it's great to be home, you're not used to the routine, but you'll get used to it soon.

Let me prepare myself mentally for this because I know I'm putting the date of our break up into my agenda, and making time for you to say those words. Let you apologize for taking my textbooks and making arrangements to buy me new ones, but have a nice summer, have a nice life, I'll see you in the fall.

Just a little bit awkward

It's a little bit funny when your best friend walks into a dark room and catches you just as you're about to do something naughty.

For the friendship's sake...

We met at our friend's house party. It was random for both of us. I was on my way to the Dollar store to get some stuff for my Halloween costume. He was on his way to the bus station - he was planning a surprise visit for his girlfriend.

But something happened and we both ended up chilling at our common friend's house party. Couple shots of Apple Smirnoff (disgusting thing) and the night carried us away... We danced the whole night, we danced everything from hip hop to tango. He was hot like hell :) Eventually we got tired and dizzy. He wanted to hold my hand. I felt awkward because he had a girlfriend but did not resist. The next morning he went to his girlfriend and I finally bought everything I needed for the upcoming party.

A week later we bumped into each other in the library. We decided to study together. The more I knew about him, the more I liked him. But he had a girlfriend. So I decided not to hang out with him anymore. It took me couple of months to get over him. But I don't regret. Because now he is my best friend. He was the one who helped me get my first job. He is the one I can ask to bring me food when I am starving at the library. And he was the first person I called when my first boyfriend broke up with me. And I really hope he doesn't know and will never know that I really liked him before.

With my own eyes

We played broken telephone, sending emails back and forth, missing phone calls due to busy schedules and the time difference. For half a year we didn't live in the same city, and for four months, not even in the same continent. But when I answered my door that evening, I could not believe that after six months, it was him, and he was on my doorstep. We talked about the needle exchange program in Vancouver.

The burritos were good. But not nearly as good enough as the realization that we were finally in the same city.

Revisiting St. Valentine

I just came from a meeting, and it's a little late, but you want to meet up for green tea with two brown sugars. That I can do; I can tell you Happy Valentine's Day in person. We can talk about the events that occurred during our day, and why you're carrying a plate with three cookies. You don't eat the cookies and you want me to eat them, but a first year student made them, so you should eat them. Your housemate asks you to come home to help her with something and you give me a hug and leave. You don't go home to a housemate who needs help, but turns out that you go home to your girlfriend who wants to eat dinner with you on Valentine's Day.

St. Valentine

We're just teenagers with a curfew and enough change for bus fare. So this Valentine's day, after last period, we're going to hold hands and walk through the aisles in Price Chopper, looking at everything from apples to laundry detergent to spatulas. Then we're going to sit in front of an apartment building and watch the people entering and exiting the building.

Just celebrating

You don't need the stuff of movies and grand romances to appreciate the finer moments of life. All you need is a microwave and a lighter, and you're set to go.

So it's alright if we're students and we pay rent and have to rely on student loans.

It's alright if we can't afford to go to the restaurant at the top of the CN Tower or any of the Winterlicious/Summerlicious restaurants when they aren't offering their deals.

Because all we need right now is a tealight from the thirty for a dollar value pack from the dollar store and two 99 cents Michelina's microwavable TV dinners to celebrate.

A little bit low

So if we're in the mood to kiss, then sure that's what we'll do. But friend, do friends kiss? No, they don't. Do friends hold hands? No, they don't. But if we're in the mood maybe we'll cross that line.

So I put on a slinky black dress. As I zipped it up in the back and put on my heels, putting just the right amount of make up on and a touch of perfume right on the collar bone, I ran these potential scenarios through my head. I wanted to make him look twice and forget that we were just friends.

I went to the club in the mood, and hoping to see my friend, and I did. I saw him look at another girl the way he used to look at me, I saw him hold her hand, and buy her drinks. I saw him put his arm around her waist and kiss her, and introduce her to his friends, and I saw him walk right past me and not even say hello.

Wait no, it was you

It was dark in the club, but I was trying to talk to him. I don't think I could take him seriously while he was dressed up as Colonel Sanders, but it was Halloween, and it was a club, so I just wanted to dance. His two friends came along and we hit the floor.

But when I looked up, he had disappeared and I was left with one of his friends.

Uh... excuse me miss

There was an interesting conversation at the bar, sipping on a beer he paid for.

There was some laughter and some anatomy jokes thrown back and forth, the usual verbal banter.

There was the discussion of how next morning's work training was going to be.

There was a blur of movement and limbs on the dance floor.

There was him belting out the words to Rihanna's Only Girl in the World.

There was a kiss here and there.

And there was a security guard telling us that the club was now closed as we opened our eyes, let go of each other's hands and walked outside, laughing as we realized we got caught.

The Wall Watchers

One night we both stayed up instant messaging each other. It was one of those school nights when you have an early class the next morning but you just don't feel like going to sleep.

So what were we both doing up at this fine hour? We were "watching paint dry". It turned into a nightly hobby, this "wall-watching".

The extra wine glass

There were two wine glasses as opposed to the usual one glass that always sat beside the bottle of red wine on his desk. A mutual friend came over to visit him and noticed this. She asked, "Hey, why do you have two glasses? Who was here?"

Just rambling

We were sitting on a park bench after going to an art exhibition. After rambling on for a good half an hour about science classes, New York, and some other topics, he turned to me and said, "I've been trying to kiss you for the past fifteen minutes, but you just keep talking."

"Oh."

And then came the first kiss.

Oh, that's a schooner

Indeed, that's what a schooner was. Not a boat, but an extra large mug of beer, designed to make me lose a button off my coat in the mud and convince him that we really needed to search for this golden button.

We never found it though, but we found that we loved to sing and play the ukulele and watch Nahson videos at 3 AM.

We also found that making grilled cheese sandwiches at 3 AM is harder than you think it is. You might set off the fire alarm, panic, douse the slice of bread in tap water, and shove the pan back onto the stove, resulting in a soggy mess.

You might just maybe, have a good laugh.

Paris... je t'aime

Paris, the city of love, of every romantic fantasy that you could possibly dream of. And I almost went, that one summer with someone I wanted to love.

There was something fundamentally wrong with us right from the start, but we never acknowledged it. Instead, he decided that a band-aid solution would work best, so he asked me to go to Paris and London with him. I asked for a week off work before I even started work. And so, we began to plan. I put together an extensive list of places I wanted to go and see, and sent this to him, but he sent me back a list with:

Paris:
1) Wine at every meal
2) Boulangerie
3) Louvre

London:
1) Picture at London bridge + clock tower
2) Eat a disgusting English food
3) Fish and chips

We never went to Paris, and he made up an excuse as to why we couldn't go. It was pretty clear. I took down the posters of Paris I had up in my room, gave them away to a friend, and never spoke of the city again. We went our separate ways a week later.

Messages from the future

I remember that he went to work with a non-governmental organization in Asia for a semester and that being the young naive teenagers we were, we decided that it would be worth it to wait.

But what can you do when you hear about news that Typhoon Ketsana directly hit the city that they are staying in? All you can do is email and ask if they're alright because you have no other way of contacting them.

But you can smile when you wake up one day to a text message sent from a prepaid phone to your own, saying that they miss you and are thinking of you. And you can smile a little bit more when there's a surprise in your mailbox on your birthday.

Because there's a 13-hour time difference and every message you get is almost like receiving a message from the future.

Europe in a nutshell

After waiting for three hours for him to call back, I realized that he probably fell asleep.

And he had, or that's what he told me.

We went for dinner at an Italian restaurant instead of going to watch Harry Potter because it was a thirty minute bus ride away. We then went on an adventure through the hospital to find a secret exit we had been eying ever since we started living on that street. It just looked so inviting every time the weather got cold outside.

We spent hours watching YouTube videos and just talking about our experiences in our program, swapping traveling stories, and looking at pictures of Europe.

I picked the lint off his carpet because I was nervous and then he ended up vacuuming up my lint pile.

When I left at 5 AM, I was still nervous, but he asked me for a hug, and then I ran all the way home smiling to myself.

I might be in like with you, whatever that means

It's 4 AM and I'm still at a friend's place, watching YouTube videos and playing games on my phone. Suddenly, I guess, when our knees touch or our fingers accidentally brush, it feels a little different.

I guess it was no surprise when I woke up the next morning, him having passed out on the bed beside me, that I just had to say, "I'm afraid that the more time I spend with you, the more my feelings will develop for you."

To which he says, "why is that bad?"

I just had to answer, "because it's one-sided."

But he replied with, "I feel the same way."

And for that moment, it was enough.

Almost made it into the club

11 PM, standing in an elevator with a friend, trying to get people from downstairs. He turned my way and tried to kiss me.

12 AM, too many drinks, trying to get into a club with a group of friends. The entire walk to the club consisted of that friend telling me that we belonged together.

Then he dropped his ID in front of the bouncers, and they told him he couldn't come inside.

So, I sat on the curb with him for the entire night, putting my jacket around him so he wouldn't get cold. Then he had to pee, so I took him into Milestones and then asked the waitress for a glass of water. Then he puked in the flowerpots outside of Milestones.

1 AM, we took him back to the hotel and he passed out.