A Zine consisting of Unsent Letters

Prompted me to think of this post, although that makes it sound like a reflection whereas I guess it was more like a premonition. Or more accurately just blatant plagiarism. Prism.

Dear Miki,

Bryce doesn't get me. Neither do I, really. But he does this annoying thing (or as you would phrase it "I really hate about it") almost everytime I see him now which is try to hook me up with someone or somehow get me laid.
It was refreshing the last time we dined together that he merely suggested I should take up drinking.

It's a shame you never met him. He really is a great guy. sorta.

Anyway, Bryce's problem with me: my lack of interest in sex (not that he has propositioned me to have sex with him) or what Bryce quantifies as a lack of interest in sex and I would quantify as a lack of interest in ejaculating in a long succession of different women's bodies.

Anyway I'm not sure if I'm comfortable writing to you about ejaculation.

...anyway this "problem" I just take as a general lack of libido. But you slightly complicate it. Largely because while right now I'm not particularly interested in getting into a relationship per se, I do find myself curiously hung up on you.

And that I just can't figure out. Intellectually I understand our situation. It isn't like straight after breaking up with Claire, any time I got introduced to women I turned away irrationally anticipating Claire to come running back to me.

We've been broken up a long time. This I know. We dated for a meagre 6 months. But I still can't figure out a lot of why's. Like I don't know why precisely I fell in love with you.

It's safe to say with 2 exceptions, my 2 pitiful attempts at one-night...well one-night hook ups, I was a teenager. Anyway those 2 nights of pity aside just about every girl I've kissed I've been in love with already.

You seared your way onto my brain like burning magnesium sears the retina though. Our mutual aquantence who introduced you to me, made the mistake of calling you 'cute' instead of beautiful (that I had been thinking). When she called you cute I started thinking you were which for me is an immediate turn off. And I acted appropriately, brushing you off in my usual callous way and sticking with my close circle of work buddies.

And then I went to talk to you, and in all honesty it was because George bought me a drink I really, really didn't want and thought it would be convenient to offload it on you.

And you turned out to be very charming and highly amusing. And all you did was laugh. And our mutual friend who wrote herself off completely that night proved an easy target.

I remember growing fond of you early, when reading your amusing text messages to Liam as we set up our first date. Which I pulled out all the stops for. I was 23, had just noticed my hairline had receded and thought this might be my last chance ever to get a girlfriend.

I remember you stating 'I don't like italians' as we waited for a seat at Tiamo's and how funny it was to point out to you we were standing in the middle of an italian restaurant.

And I can't remember how many times I fell in love with you since then. Like when you flipped out with euphoric exclamations the first time I cooked you breakfast. A tip for Japanese women I passed on to Brenton that apparently paid dividends.

Or when I first stayed at your place, and I had to get up at 6 am to ride to work. You lived in Prahran and it was hugely impractical for me to stay there on a week night really. It added about 6 km to my commute. But anyway, as I lay in your shitty bed trying to comprehend how long it had been since I had gotten up at the theoretical 6 am, I heard you bashing my bike on the side of the house as you got it out for me.

Or when I was telling Masa and Hide I was dating a Japanese girl, then you rang me, and I thought it would be funny if Hide answered the phone, and he asked if you were my girlfriend and APPARANTLY your response was "Yes, we had sex last night." and I'm inclined to believe it because Hide cracked up and made suggestive clapping gestures at me. Perhaps you used the phrase 'we bumped uglies' or it's Japanese equivalent.

Or when I came round that time in early summer and you were hanging out the washing. And we just stood in the middle of your clothes line and talked about our days.

Anyway, over the time I came up with lots of reasons I fell for you. Like how despite your cute girly exterior you really are one tough cunt. Or how naturally supportive and enthusiastic you were of everyone. Or just that whilst I was with you, there was no higher priority than actually living our lives. Or your smile. Or your laugh.

But for some reason, whilst I don't long for you. Don't cry myself to sleep regularly waiting for you to call. I don't even particularly want to see you on any given day, given that I live in a garage and work on economic reports. Anyway, I just wonder how you can still be the most interesting girl I know.

Who are we kidding? the language barrier is a long and deep trench between us having complex conversations. Yet somehow it didn't matter. I'd rather talk to you again than meet any new girls.

For me I understand this really means I will probably wait a fair while before at some random party I end up talking to someone really interesting as a matter of circumstance and end up having a bigger better relationship. A function of evolving tastes, preferences and personality as well as pheromones.

But anyway, on the weekend my brother and I made a speech at my sister An-chan's 21st and afterwards Bryce walked up and said something to the effect that he just hadn't laughed like that in years.

And that's when I realised, that as of right now, and pending the arrival of someone else, of all the people I have ever met I enjoyed making you laugh the most. And it simplified my life a great deal.

Maybe that's what I'm hung up on.

Anyway as my sister would say "buckets of love"

i-piki kampeki miki. nobodies perfect.

tohm.