Notes App #

_{‘The Jacket’ by Mark Bochu}

I often think about those who left here and don’t look back until years later when a whole new city is built. I wonder what it feels like to not be attached to somewhere that holds your formative memories. I wonder what it means to be wired in that way. I told myself to wait, to catch up with this man I only know online. It has been five years since he left and came back to the city where we first matched when I was just 18. To him, I present as a constant, a piece of furniture and a figurine. A characteristic of his adolescence. I told myself to wait, to write this piece with a specific lens. But to wait is to be attached and I’m trying to learn what it means to…

Here’s my favourite quote about waiting:

“Am I in love? Yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game.”

—Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments