25 August 2012
This memory is from the start of our relationship, about a month in, on a school trip to Washington DC. I forget exactly what we were doing there, and as with all school trips I didn't really learn much, but I remember Nate and I being absolutely buzzing because we were going home, and we'd finally feel like we fitted in again with people from our country surrounding us.
I have a lot of favourite places in the world, but most of them feature some water (e.g Jackie O's Reservoir in Central Park) so when we had a few hours of free time, Nate took me to one of my favourite places in the world: the reflective pool in front of Abraham Lincoln (interestingly, he's one of my favourite presidents too, as I did a rather incredible drawing of his iconic hat for a project on past presidents when I was 6 years old).
Because we were this shiny new couple, everything we did was super cheesy, so our conversation when we sat on one of the benches alongside the pool was pretty shallow but really cheesy and dramatic so I won't bother writing any of it down.
But we shared one of our first real kisses there, under the canopy of trees above us, as the late-summer-early-fall sun shone directly onto our faces. It was pretty perfect, and not cliché in any way, despite the fact that there were a few of the slightly less mature members of our year snapping photos of us.
Back then I didn't realise that this kind of kiss was going to be as abundant as air, and also as essential in my life, and when I reflect back on those early days, I miss them slightly. I miss how naive I was to the true insuperable love we shared; how fresh and innocent our relationship was; how carefree I was in his arms; and how the sky above us was clear, and the shadow of his cancer hadn't yet descended onto us.
I went back to DC shortly after he died, to see that very bench and to reflect, just like that famous pool. But when I got there, I was devastated to find it empty of water: not only because it's such a beautiful place, but also because it felt so symbolic. When it was full, so was my life: full of hope, full of love, full of happiness. But when it was empty, so was my life: empty of love, empty of dreams, empty of him.
A Month Of Memories #5 • Opuss № I