One Fine Dining

You cut your steak in big bites, medium rare, with some hint of the blood in the middle of the meat. You chew like it was the most delicious food you ever tasted. Maybe it is. Or perhaps you just want to praise your own cooking since you spent the whole evening just to provide us a fine dining experience with candlelight on your own balcony. 

I know that you wanted to take me to your favorite restaurant in the town. I wanted it too, but not as much as I want us to have our own time in our own space like this. Like we used to. Like how we made our ‘financial crisis’ era as a student, became something romantic in our own way.

“The steak is good, right? I marinated it properly this time and the meat also with a high quality. You taste the difference, right?” I nodded. Chuckled. Happy with your contagious excitement. You are always being very passionate about food. About cooking something good. About providing the best for you and for me too. 

Do you remember those times when you watched many videos of Gordon Ramsay that you ended up baking our chicken inside a pineapple? Or when you platting our food, potatoes, chicken, fruits, salad, on the top of our plastic cutting board — since we didn’t have a proper wooden cutting board. What a cheap way to have our fancy dinner. Lol. Our “financial crisis” era was so painful, but also amazing. We broke, but we always had some fun. We found ourselves happy with every small thing we created. We laughed at the smallest jokes we threw at each other. We were happy back then, though… I don’t want to go back again to those amazing times. I think you too.

“Tomorrow we can go to the airport a bit late. Do you want to go around the city first?” You asked me. Wiped your mouth with the red napkin, and your rolled sleeves showed me part of your new tattoos on your muscular arm. Did I ever tell you that you are just totally…. my type?

“I bought everything I need and saw every bucket list I have for this city. I think I am good, just one last stroll to my favorite supermarket should be fine.” You nodded. I shrugged. Then we were both quiet.  Reminded that this would be our last night together. 

The air feels chilly for me, though it is still midsummer night. I’m wearing a new black dress that you insisted on buying me despite a very expensive price. I’m eating at your apartment, staring at your new tattoo, and new style of clothing you are wearing. I’m seeing a new life that you are having after our breakups. A new you, without me around. A brand new you, that is even more amazing than you already are.

Seeing you now, sometimes makes me wonder if I ever regret things I did to hurt you. I do. Of course. I regret every scar I gave to you. Every tear. Every feeling that makes you feel unworthy. Every pressure I gave when I knew you were not ready. Every painful word I said. Every nonchalant behavior as if it didn't matter to me. I regret it.

That was why I chose to end us.

Each time I hurt you, I hurt myself too. Each blade I pointed at you, it scars me too. Each answer I got to those endless questions I had, made me feel unworthy too. I cannot handle myself who was hurting because of you too. 

After all, we were just as confused about how to fulfill each other expectations. We were not certain about how to answer honestly about not wanting to fulfill it. We were still confused about the life we wanted to have, though one thing was for sure, we wanted to be in each other life. No matter how hard it was, we didn't want to let go of each other. At least, that was what we thought at that time. 

We made peace on how things turn between us, right?

“Are you happy with your life?” You asked me that question again.

“I am, not every day, but I am grateful for everything I have in my life,” I said. I would be very ecstatic if I could spend my life with you, I said quietly. 

“Great.. and I hope you are also grateful that I cook dinner for us again.” You said jokingly. 

“Always.” I said. I am always grateful that you were in my life.

You raised your glass for a toast. I raised mine. We both smile at each other. Softly. Tenderly. With a loving gaze. And sad eyes. This could be our last time together.

“For our amazing future.” You said.

“For our amazing future.” I said.

Honestly, your steak is tasteless, yet our time is precious. Our cheers are about moving forward, though right now, I wish I had the power to stop time. To be with you even just a little bit longer. I want the night to hold still and never end. I want to hold you, kiss you, feel your skin, smell your body, cook in the kitchen together and slap each other’s butt, see your chicken dance, ask for another five minutes hug, watch our own movies with only our feet touching each other, to annoy you with my big hug when you were playing your games, get sulky when you came home didn’t bring me flowers, hold hand and going to a supermarket when it was about to close, eat a whole jar of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough in one time sitting. I wished I could stop the time both now and those times when we were still together. 

On the other hand, I want to move forward too. To live my life gracefully. To do things I always wanted to do. To be the best version of myself, even if it’s without you. Maybe in the future when you see me, you will be so proud of me the same way I am always proud of you too.

We don’t know what the future holds for us. The only thing I know now, is we have a very nice fine dining, on a fine balcony, on a last one fine summer evening, with a damn fine man I've been loving so much for quite some time. So, at least for now, everything is perfectly fine. 

22.04.24