+ the person I was supposed to spend my whole life with
+ a decade worth of friendships; even though I still have those
+ this gorgeous view, and this one; one more, and the last one
+ hazardously polluted air of Chinese cities
+ the whole red light district culture
+ a city that will always be a home
+ Club 71 and the filmmaker
It has been five months since I went on a vacation and never returned. Life took me sideways and straightened me out. It feels like I am happier now, but there is a void. It has to be there because that’s what happens when you rip yourself out from a certain way of living. It can’t be nice, the edges won’t be smooth. That’s the consequence, which I am learning to live with.
More than anything I miss the reassurance that came with being and living with another person. Memories still creep up on me. When I am alone suddenly, and the phone has been silent for too long. When it’s dark, the flat is silent; everything feels a little harder and darker. I lose the ground under my feet and forget about what I said before. Because he may have been the elephant and the lion, but I was the historian, and I was the one who loved more. But for the wrong reasons.
(In case you’re wondering if there is more to this. There is.)