The One Who Bought Me Flowers

Katy Perry’s top-ten hit “The One That Got Away” reminds me of you. You were the obvious choice, a good, sweet Indian boy, after my debacle with the shopkeeper’s son.  You gave me flowers often and I would cruelly ask if you could get me something else because flowers felt like a boring, repetitive gesture.  How I would enjoy those flowers today.

Long distance gaped open the holes that had already formed between us.   I broke up with you for myriad reasons, the biggest being that you bored me to tears.  During one of our last dinners at Zaytinya in D.C., I remember sitting in a dark corner, feeling depressed because you had nothing to say while other couples filled the room with head-heaving laughter.  Perhaps you were the yin to my yang.  I was bubbly, talkative, an extrovert; you were reserved, quiet, an introvert.  You were a good person with minimal verbal expression.  I wouldn’t have been happy with you and, had I stayed, I would always have wondered if there was someone better out there for me.  I’m still wondering.

Quiet and over six feet tall, fair-skinned for an Indian, with a full head of shiny thick black hair, you inconspicuously sat in the back of all our pre-med classes.  I remember thinking in college that you were awkward and a dweeb.  Friendster messages reunited us after graduation and you re-took my virginity.  (As a response to my parents shaming me for my forbidden love affair with an older Yemeni man, I practiced celibacy for the next five years to show them I was a good girl after all).  Picking you as a partner must have proven that.  Or perhaps not.

My parents loved you like a son.  You were my dad’s running buddy at my local school’s track and a caring older brother figure to my baby sister, making scavenger hunts for her delight.  I don’t think she was delighted, though.  You were a part of my family for what felt like forever, but in reality, it was merely two and a half years in my twenties.  I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again; I never got my closure.  And for some reason, you think I cheated on you at the end, which I didn’t.

Whenever I hear the song “Cry for You,” a song you gchatted me as a symbol of your feelings, I laugh and think of you.  I remember our bitter ending and how, though I don’t remember the details of our relationship, I do know I could and should have treated you better.  I think of you from time to time, hoping you’re happy because you deserve the best.  And though I still don’t regret our breakup, you will always have a place in my heart.

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Lamaze and the Little Spoon

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The One Who Destroyed My Flowers