London, 26 March 2023

Early March, we celebrated our two-year anniversary since our first date. I booked a high tea and brought flowers. Topo didn’t seem to remember; at least he didn’t make any gesture until I put a photo of us with a text next to the flowers. He said, “Yeah, it’s two years already,” as if he had remembered, but it was clear he had not.

Either way, the outcome was disappointing: if he remembered like he pretended, it was sad that he made no effort despite that. And if he had forgotten the date, then he forgot an important day.

Anyway, the tea was not good.

It’s March after all, and I became more hopeful with the longer days and warmer temperatures. Not really warm, actually, still kind of like winter. But at least there is a sea of flowers in the parks.

Still, we were quite tense last month, and sometimes when we get high, we become quite intense and agitated. One night, we came home and smoked in the kitchen. Topo became really obsessed and excited about a topic or theory (a typical stoner epiphany thing). He started gesticulating fiercely and kept asking, “Right? Do you agree?” until I grabbed his hand to calm him down, asking him to speak softer and not so agitated. I, on my part, was not buying into his idea that every human has the same level of inherent morality, which was his thesis. That totally made him mad, and he left the room, scrolling through his Instagram feed robotically, like he always does when he’s upset and angry at me.

I followed him, wanting to stay calm and get over it, but suddenly I felt a very strong rage and energy boiling up in me. I opened the door and erupted. I vented everything I wanted to say, attempting to debunk the old “I adjust to YOU all the time” tale. I went too far when I screamed, “I fucking hate London; I am only here for you.” This was my snap. I felt both bad and good, or better, relieved after that, but it also caused a massive crisis in him. He immediately questioned our future and asked me to decide whether or not to renew our lease, demanding I tell him ASAP.

Of course, I took five steps back and tried to comfort him and soothe the situation, but we were like strangers for at least two days after that, slowly getting closer again.

Then Veronica arrived, and the whole weekend was about her or us, doing things, eating, going to the theatre (a sleazy cheesy “Dirty Dancing”), and biking through East London. We had a good time, but I was also exhausted afterwards from constantly being “on” or in communication mode. I need time off sometimes.

But right after that, I had to start preparing for my great trip to the East! I’m flying to Singapore in two days, later heading to Bali, and eventually back to Hong Kong. I am shocked at how fast this event came up and feel both exhilarated and scared at the same time. Not really scared, like fearful, but a bit uncertain about the emotions of separation, abandonment, guilt, bliss, and longing for the distance.

It will be a good time. I will work on my inner world and well-being. And my outer shell, by tanning at the beach, lol…

My suitcase is kind of packed—nice clothes for the wedding and social events, and a few shorts for yoga in Ubud. Let the adventure begin…