almost three years

time apparently continues even when nobody is paying attention to it. #

December 5 is coming. Three years with Yuri. Three sounds serious when other people say it. From inside it doesn’t feel like a number. It feels like hundreds of tiny repetitions. Him waiting downstairs. Me saying five minutes. Him knowing it isn’t five minutes. Me knowing exactly which expression means he is actually annoyed and which means he’s performing annoyance because he wants me to laugh. Him calling me Bambolina so consistently that he accidentally renamed me on the Internet. Me stealing his water even though I accuse him of stealing mine. The ordinary things become the relationship much more than the things you’re supposed to photograph.

We went out tonight and nothing extraordinary happened. Maybe that’s why I liked it.

Remember me, Eclipse.