The very moment our eyes met, I was certain. Standing in the gym and having everyone else cropped out as if we were fitted in a frame, everything seemed clearer than ever. Despite months of contact and drifting feelings, you registered to be foreign in my mind. I might have been unsure before, but I now know where your place in my heart is. Absence cultivated the feelings I harboured towards you to grow, and have it romanticized. But the spark was not there. Instead, a strange sort of fa(u)ltering: i pretended not to see you. Turning away like you weren’t standing there. Was I embarrassed? Probably not. But the underlying dread – I might have been fond of you before, but your presence and its booming loudness proved to be too overwhelming for me. An excuse, maybe. What triggered was seeing a tad of Navi in you. I was partially horrified. The looming simplicity, albeit something I yearn for so dearly – hints of a breakdown in the basis of understanding and communication. True enough, traces of it could be found throughout the four days of “hi/bye”s. To me, it was jarring. If anything, I was more aware than ever of our incompatibility and frequency. I disliked that, and the truth. But it was conclusive, and I know I didn’t want to leave Australia with regrets this time. Goodbye to you, and I will bury those thoughts somewhere deep down only to excavate it after years of preservation.
Those three words / said too much / but never enough