February 2014

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I saw it coming. Spreading. Inescapable like the plague. I should’ve known it would’ve been the biology major. They aim for the root of things. “So are you two-“ his finger twirls between us like twisting spaghetti “a thing?” “Jesus,” I say, half to myself, half to Marko, who is sitting beside me as straight as a pin with a pained expression on his face. “Sort of,” Marko finishes for me. I can feel the weight of both men’s eyes, but I am nose-deep in my book with the same life-preserving zeal one would have had in the 1300s over an infection-preventing face mask. “Ah,” he replies. I cannot see him purse his lips but I can hear it in the air. That, and the way he stifles a small, …

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I sit patiently at a café. It’s been five minutes and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been stood up by my first official online date. Eventually, he arrives with a barrage of apologies and plonks himself opposite me. He wonders if I would like a coffee. I am thrilled by the prospect of a free beverage and quickly do a calculation in my head that tells me that I can now afford something more substantial than pasta for dinner. He quickly informs me that the coffee is three dollars, and after staring at him blankly for what feels like several minutes, I reluctantly retrieve some cash from my purse. We drink our lattes, and he keeps my change. I get out of there in record speed and come …

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February 4th – June 7th 2010   You changed your relationship status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘single’ and I knew it was time to make my move. Long had I observed your failing romance, the scattering of posts that were once love sonnets disintegrating into crude cipher written from drunken stupor. He finally crossed the line and now you’re free for the taking. I began my approach with condolences and eventually followed them up with the occasional exclamation of your beauty accompanied by a smiley face emoticon. I secured our first date at 4:36pm; it was a Saturday. I danced around the house with my cats clutched tightly to my chest.   June 21st 2010   We sit in an indie café on Fourth Street. It boasts a combination of …

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“Romance” isn’t about the boy or the girl or relationships. It’s a moment. Where you open up and you fall in love with Life all over again. Here are five of mine.   No. 5# Summer, Oxford, England I was finishing up a writing course when I met The Lawyer. He had pretty blue eyes and a broken heart, and he told me he hated women. One night, drunk and engorged on Cheesy Chips, (a local “Hangover Feed” of baked beans, hot chips and melted cheese served up in styrofoam boxes that, quite frankly, I could have eaten at any time of day) we walked the streets. In the castle grounds, we passed a security guard. She eyed us until Blue Eyes shouted out her name and waved. She tipped …

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There’s a single question which hovers above my head. Am I in love or in attachment? Love has been explained to me as wishing someone happiness in their life. Attachment is a need to be with another person. These two ideas have been meshed, squashed and intertwined with each other over the years and I find it difficult filtering out what emotion belongs where. I’m attached to my phone and my laptop. My laptop resides on the bedside table, the most dust-free object in the house. The letters on the keys have faded away and the screen has a crack in the top right corner. I feel constantly worried that I’ll drop my laptop and all my photos, documents, videos, music and movies will disappear. My phone is with me …

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