Egg on my face

It's not how I take mine

Your sister’s name, beautiful. Or so it means. Part of me wonders if, when she met me, she thought, what’s the point? She won’t be here for long. Apparently, you introduce everyone to your family. I wasn’t special. Or so you told me. Egg on my face.

You told me you wanted to have a baby with me. I’ve never felt maternal, but with you, I felt like anything was possible. I even thought, maybe I’ll have a baby. Maybe I’ll be a mother. Maybe we’ll be a family. Maybe this’ll be it. Egg on my face.

You flew across the country to spend a week with me. I picked you up from the airport, I took you home, I liked having you in my space. For a moment, it all felt easy. Egg on my face.

You introduced me to your niece and nephew. Your brother and sister-in-law, too. I collected rocks with your niece. You read them a book, you pretended to fry eggs. Bath time, back at theirs. I thought, this could be something. Your niece hugged me goodbye like I’d see her again. Egg on my face.

I showed you something I’d written, you asked me if it was about him. I said, sure, partly, but it’s also about everyone who leaves a trace. You’re in there too. Egg on my face.

You told me you’d never introduced a girl you were seeing to your aunty. I believed you. We had drinks by the water. The next day, lunch in town. Dinner at the bowl’o. Drinks on the deck. I collected eggs with your aunty, one cracked on the ground. I got invited to your cousin’s eighteenth. Egg on my face.

We make prawn and chorizo pasta. A salad, a vino. Garlic, chilli. We eat until we’re full. Egg on my face.

We snorkel, we fish, we kayak, we swim. We sit and read in the sun. You read me the last passage of your favourite book, like you wanted me to love it too. Egg on my face.

Overlooking the water, you told me you’re not sure if you’re ready for something serious. I said, what the fuck am I doing here then? Egg on my face.

Egg and bacon rolls for breakfast. Kewpie, sriracha. Avocado, tomato. You tell me they’re the best you’ve ever had. Egg on my face.

We drive two and a half hours to the airport at 3am, after two hours sleep. I drop you off, then drive three hours home. You call me twice before you board, once when you land, to make sure I get home safe. I keep driving in yesterday’s clothes. Egg on my face.

Your ex comes to visit. Egg on my face.

You call when things go bad in my life, like you’ll be around long enough to see them through. Egg on my face.

You tell me you want me to come visit. I start looking at flights that night. Egg on my face.

You tell me you’re not over her. Egg on my face.

You don’t want to do this anymore. Egg on my face.

I still know how you take your eggs.

It’s not how I take mine.

May as well make breakfast.

Scrambled eggs.
Chilli, garlic.
Kewpie, sriracha.
Avocado, tomato.

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