When I started writing this, it was dawn in Singapore.
Normally, I wouldn’t think about these things, as the concept of time makes my head spin. I’m in the present, but they are in the future and my friend Andy is there right now. Today is his first day of work. The first day of his future. And I’m still in the last day of his past. In a few hours he will be surrounded by the people who will help him create the future memories, while in a few hours more, I’ll be surrounded by the people who are all part of the stories of his past.
I’m going to need some Dramamine if I keep at this. I think it’s just best if I write in the now.
Andy, you asshole, I hope you know I love you. I’m so absolutely proud of you and can’t wait until you’re Prime Minister of Asia.
Now that you’re gone, though, I’m sorry I didn’t walk over to see you more often. I guess you were right by calling me a lazy cow. Hey, are cows sacred in Thailand? No, wait, where are you? Nevermind. The point is you’re not here. And I’m pretty upset about it. No, I’m not going to feign happiness for your move or say it’s great because now I have no one to lift my saggy breasts in the company of others. No one else to sing show tunes with at the most inappropriate times. No one else to look square in the face and simply raise one eyebrow to communicate exactly what I’m thinking.
I suppose I should be thankful for the good times we shared and look forward to future adventures in Australia or Afghanistan or wherever the fuck you are, but I don’t believe in Jesus and I’m sure that is something he talked about in Matthew or Peter or Eli. So, no. I’m not thankful for your infectious laugh, your insane high kicks and the way you made me feel like everything was going to be okay – even when things were at their worst. I’m not. Because those things just make me miss you more.
So, go. Find yourself another one of me. I’ll be here hanging on to the memory of you.
Mari de Armas 