I once loved a girl. She was beautiful; so beautiful she could make me smile by no more than my looking at her.
She went to Beijing. I was supposed to follow, but there was a delay. Still, she would visit me and when she visited she would bring me cheese I couldn’t find in the town where I stayed waiting for the day I could leave to be with her. And with the cheese she’d bring beauty and love and laughter and happiness.
But all was not well. Unbeknownst to me… okay, the rest is an aged, dull story monotonous in its variations so ‘All was not well’ is enough here.
And thus it ended.
I was distraught. I cried for days. But slowly I recovered, picked myself up and moved on with my life. Within a year the pain, the emotion, the love – all had gone. And yet something… one thing… lingered. Lingers even now, all these years later.
I still miss the cheese.