Since C. Went Away

Since C. went away two weeks ago, I’ve been starting to forget him. At night, I close my eyes and try to remember his face, but it’s all blurry. I can still see his long, slender body. The soft, tender skin I once touched with my finger. And his dark, rebel short hair. Luckily, his round hazel eyes are still there, shooting kindness blink by blink.

I still know what belt he uses the most, what sweatshirt he puts on when it’s cold, and how softly he talks to me. It still makes me laugh how he calls people who protest ‘capricious‘, and how he loves to smoke a cigarette and eat chocolate mousse after yoga class. At first, I missed him so much, I’d look away when passing by beautiful men.

Now I feel curious again.

Every Monday I have Russian class and C. comes to mind. One day after the gym, I told him about my love for languages.

‘You know, I told my Russian teacher about you and how you’re from G… originally. They said: oh dear, G… sucks!‘

‘Your what? Your Russian teacher? You’re learning Russian?‘

‘Yes! And Spanish, and Farsi, and Italian!‘

He looked at me with the eyes of a cat in the face of curiosity.

I hope C. will be back soon. In any case, he’ll always be a part of me. His tastes have changed mine. I’ll always be gentle, delicate and delicious like him. When people infuriate me now, I seem to land on a kind thought, like he would do.