Sometimes, you have such a deep connection with someone that you swear that nothing can ever, ever change it. Not even time. You think that out of sight is not out of mind, but sadly, it is. Or at least, it can be. I know I can testify to that.<\/p>\n
I don’t remember how old I was when I met C, but I know that we had a kind of connection that was uncanny. I thought nothing could ever, ever separate us. We were so intimate. I knew C like the back of my hands. I used to see C almost every morning and night; we were inseparable. I was pretty sure that C and I were going to be together forever.<\/p>\n
But life happened. Life came and changed things, changed our plans, restructured what we thought was going to be our future.<\/p>\n
For eight long years, there was no communication between me and C. I never forgot C, of course. There are some people that you never forget, but I just figured that distance was like a temporary thing, you know. I figured that once we reunited, we were going to pick up right where we left off like nothing ever happened. Like we didn’t miss 8 years. Like I didn’t grow up. Like I didn’t change. Or like C didn’t change. How wrong I was.<\/p>\n
I ran into C at the African Store the other day. Imagine my elation. I thought to myself, ‘this must be fate!!’ After 8 long years, I have run into C again? I was determined to not let C go. But to my disappointment, what we had was not there anymore. It seemed to have dissipated. I had changed, and so had C. We were no longer the C and Vera of eight years ago. Even if C hadn’t changed, I definitely had. I had experienced new things, new people, a new culture, a new way of life. Things that used to come easily to me before were now foreign. Being with C felt so new – not the exciting kind of new, but rather, the unfamiliar kind of new. Everything about our union was so shaky and precarious. The way I touched C even, I did it with so much trepidation, like I was afraid of what will happen. It was just so unnatural.<\/p>\n
It is with sadness that I have come to the heart-breaking admission: I AM NO LONGER A PRO @ MAKING CUSTARD!! I had not had custard for 8 long years; I finally saw it at the African store, bought it, took it home, but have not been able to make a decent bowl since then. Something is always wrong with it. Too thick. Too watery. Full of those little balls that nauseate me. Goodness, what happened???!!! I used to be the Custard Queen. It just goes to show how fast things change in life.<\/p>\n
Oh, Dear Custard, what happened to our love?<\/p>\n