dear ____,

good morning. really, that’s how I will open this letter. your morning is just about to start, but I can’t imagine it. I used to be able to imagine your daily routines. I know so little of your life now, I have nothing to fill in the gaps with. it bothers me. we never had enough mornings together, we never had enough time together to begin with. it seems as if we see each other every two years, but this year we will stretch the time even further. how many times have I said this over the years? I wish we lived closer to each other. I wish you lived down the street. I wish. I haven’t heard from you in a while, although the last time we spoke it seemed that things were looking up on your end. your career is taking off and I am happy for you. I am also happy you decided to stay where you are instead of going back home. if I could, I would say the same thing about myself.

I am sending this letter out, as I always do, after a week since I finished writing it. it’s not that I need to build up the courage to post it, but I just need to make sure that everything is still accurate after the days pass. long gone are the times when I couldn’t keep my mind made up about you. you are still a constant thought on my mind, but it’s so different what used to be. I am not sure why it’s so hard for me to come to terms with that. perhaps, because for a long time I thought my first love will also be the only one. I remember a few months ago when you became single again, I felt this tiny, tiny tingle of happiness, but I felt so guilty about it (because it wasn’t a real emotion, and it was completely irrational) that I finished the conversation almost immediately after that and logged off. I thought, what if you can sense it, from the typed words across the screen? you’d think I am a terrible person. it was an unbearable thought.

soon, we will have another thing common. and I will also see you soon. you’ll see.

signed oscar wilde.

mindful mondays, eighteen



being back in touch with the other one, the one that has been lost for a long time, has shifted my thoughts. fucked them up, so to speak. and other things. I have been by myself almost an entire month. night after night, I walk into the empty apartment, and I try to picture my life if I actually went away. what it would be like. sometimes I am grateful, sometimes the loneliness hits so hard I can’t catch my breath. I keep an old polaroid of us close to me. it’s from new year’s. both of us wearing a soft smile on our faces, but when I remember that night, all I can remember is how angry I was with him that night. but looking at the picture, one could never know. often it feels like an allegory to my entire life. I don’t regret the choice I had to make in the past, but I wish I was never in the position where I would even have to consider something like that. looking at the picture, it reminds of me all the events that followed, everything that happened in the last twelve months, and there wasn’t any other way.

I have been thinking about home a lot lately. every day. it’s been two years since I have been back. I have been thinking about what would it be like to move back. to move there for the first time. because despite the passport, I’d never lived in croatia, minus the fourteen odd years worth of summer holidays spent at my grandparents’ house on the dalmatian coast. but I am playing with the idea. I am playing with the idea of moving there. living low for a little bit, spending more time with family, focusing on different things, gaining knowledge and meeting different kinds of people. speaking my own language on a daily basis, learning my own language. being closer to the nature and the sea. oh, the sea. there is nothing in the world like the adriatic sea. the thought preoccupies my brain and I cannot think about anything else. the irony is I would be so far away, but close to everything I’d ever known.

I don’t know. it’s strange. I guess, loneliness provides for a perspective unknown, or unseen before.



this morning, 9.30 ish.

it has been raining the whole week. the whole month. the sky is constantly blanketed in a mixture of grey and dark green. or so it seems. grey color changes when repeatedly reflected off buildings glass and tinted windows. it has been raining. I am alone in hong kong for the second time this month. it irritates me. everything irritates me, because I hate this routine. nothing seems to be giving me energy, everything just seems to be taking it away. I have been living like this for such a long time now, I don’t even know anything else. I feel physically sick. I had to have an episode of sinus infection and cluster headache, so I would finally calm down. sleep, dream about nothing. we have been back in touch for almost a month now, after a full year of separation. he has never left my thoughts, but I learnt how to push them away. sometimes I hate myself for the choices I made in the past. I don’t regret them, but I hate myself for it. it’s not exactly the same. it’s even worse. I haven’t had peace of mind since then.

mindful mondays, seventeen

it is almost two in the morning as I begin to type this. but I doubt I will be able to find all the words I would like to put down right now. I am aching. physically and emotionally; I am aching. I am trying to think of a film or a book or anything that I could realistically compare it to, so there would be some comparison. but nothing comes to my mind. as I type this there is a huge glass of milk next to me and the air conditioner is blasting. it’s a hot summer night. it rained again. I feel a little bit sick and I should go to sleep. tomorrow is another day. another battle. everybody is fighting a battle.

I feel as though I know everybody else’s battles and what they are fighting against. even if I can’t know exactly the way it is, or live through it that same way, I feel I can still understand it. I wish I could give this ability to other people as well. from the outside, everything appears to be perfect. my life, where I live, what I do, the people I know. it’s somebody else’s dream, probably. but the one thing that’s missing is simplicity. and a lift of the weight off my shoulders. because it’s too much.

mindful mondays; I curse to myself the day I decided to being this series.

4 x 4


from this morning / arthur street, yau ma tei / outside of my apartment building / I ate two chicken burgers in one sitting