Back to the same old thing on Elective Hall

Ema Skies

January 14, 2021 8:23 PM

Back to the same old thing by Ema Skies

Ema lay curled on her side, two glass orbs settled on the protective softness of the mattress in front of her. The first was the ball of stars Killian had given her for Christmas, currently showing a day towards the end of the holiday. The second was a little snowglobe of Dublin that he'd bought her on the way out, after seeing how much the real thing fascinated and delighted her. She had a thin blanket drawn around her shoulders. The night was chilly, by Laos standards, though having been away it had taken a couple of days for her to register it as anything other than 'substantially warmer than where I have just been' and to fall back into sync with everyone else - something which, in spite of having readjusted to the weather, she still didn't fully feel.

She glanced up at the snow covered ruins of Roscommon Castle, moonlight glancing off the white ground and throwing the walls into even sharper shadow where it didn't hit. Below this photograph, little boxes flagged up the days she would speak to Killian - a scattered few in a seemingly endless sea of empty ones. It was too long until the first call. So, she had written him a letter.

My Dearest Killian,

Well, real life sucks. That is perhaps a tad too melodramatic - nothing bad has happened since I got back, but I definitely preferred being on vacation. I know people always talk about the back to work blues but I rarely feel them. It sounds strange for someone who ran off to the other side of the world, but I like the feeling of home. Getting back after a long trip usually feels like a chance to sink back into something comforting and familiar. However, I am increasingly reminded of a remark you made when we talked about realising home was someone many miles away (well, you probably said ‘kilometers’ - or did you say ‘kilometres’?? - but that’s so much less poetic).

I have been thinking about our New Year conversation a lot since getting back. I have been thinking about all of the trip a lot, but that in particular, and perhaps more than I should given the content.

How is your resolution about appreciating the small things going? Does it extend back to real life, or did it only apply to taking in views on hillsides and squishing cold noses together and appreciating that rather than being distracted by what might happen next? It’s not my resolution, so I am resolutely not sticking to it. Normally, I’d be in favor. It’s very Mindful, which is a practise I usually respect, but I find myself questioning it since getting back. I know it would be a crime to let my avocado sandwich and iced coffee go untasted and unappreciated of a morning (for a full inventory of everything I have eaten since getting back, see overleaf - note the entirely sentimental potato) and so I am doing my best to give them some attention each time. I would not say that I end up so wrapped up in other thoughts that I ignore them completely but that, whilst I can enjoy them in and of themselves, I think they are enhanced rather than detracted from by imagining you here getting one too (‘with bacon’ is an option).
The thing that mindfulness robs us of, I feel, is a sense of scale. I can try to be in the moment and to appreciate my breakfast but that does not mean I can or should treat all moments equally. Only the best get filed for long term appreciation, and what is the point of our brains storing all these glorious memories if we are meant never to return to them? I imagine the inside of my head as a series of corridors lined with shelves where precious things are stored - increasingly, the memories I’ve deemed worthy of a place there look like little glass orbs, full of swirling happiness. There's all this philosophizing about not spending so long dreaming that your life passes by, but I think there could be an equal, or perhaps weightier, argument made that there is no point focusing minutely on the day to day and never dreaming. To dream, to imagine, to long for are all such deeply human and important things to do.

All of which is a very fancy, convoluted way of saying that I like avocado sandwiches with sweet chilli sauce, but actually I like you even more.

I suppose the real test is letting memories be. It's strange, how I would say the break was perfect, yet my mind keeps trying to improve on it, wondering whether there are things I could or should have made more of. Again, trying to focus on the present isn’t much help with this. Focussing on a world where you aren’t doesn’t soothe the ache of your absence. But telling myself there will be a next time does.

‘I miss you’ feels insufficient.

Yours (in so many ways),

Ema.

13 Ema Skies Back to the same old thing 0 Ema Skies 1 5

Killian Row

January 17, 2021 10:35 PM

But it doesn't feel the same at all. by Killian Row

Some days were easy and Killian could focus on the happy things and on work and some days were harder. Although his own quarters at Sonora were not a place Ema had ever been, they felt empty without her there. Even the happy moments were a bit tinged with the fact that he'd have to share them with her later rather than share in them together. At the same time, there was something beautiful to knowing that he had somebody, all the way across the world, who cared about his every day.

When a letter arrived from Ema, Killian savored it for just a moment before tearing into it eagerly. It was hard to delay and he struggled with the dichotomy of it: the faster he opened it, the sooner he'd get to see it; but the faster he opened it, the sooner he would have to wait for a new one. When it was time to respond, however, he retrieved his quill quickly; the sooner he responded, the sooner he could get a response. He began the same way she had but included a small picture of a kneazle beside the greeting.

It was lighthearted, but the rest of the letter was not in a way. Despite his eagerness to respond quickly, Killian found that he couldn't. Had they been face-to-face, he would have had to reply in the moment, with his first thoughts, but since the nature of their medium allowed for more thought than that, he made the decision to pace a bit first, to think a bit first, and then, finally to write.

My Dearest Ema,

I want to respond to what you're really saying but I would be amiss not to at least note that I am always in favor of sentimental potatoes.

I have found since my return to 'real life' (which I agree does suck a bit and I'll own the melodrama as well) that appreciating the small things has not come as easily as I would have hoped. When I try to enjoy the warm covers in the morning, I find myself instead enjoying your face when I think of how well you enjoy such things. In that way, I think that scale is less lost on me than sometimes my insomnia would wish it were.

I might say that I like you more than I like avocado sandwiches too but I don't think you would have to know me even half so well as you do to know that I'd prefer a "with bacon" sandwich, hold the avocado and that that liking you better is a low bar. Still, I vault it when I think of you and I'd give even a lunch of sentimental potatoes to be with you instead.

As much as letting memories be is a beautiful thing, I think there is more beauty too in adding to them and I can't say enough how much I look forward to doing so with you. Still, I worry about you? Your overleaf shows evidence of a sufficient diet (I'll add this to notes in my study) and it sounds like you are at least sleeping some, but the gravity of your letter makes me worry nonetheless. I care. I always care.

I miss you too, love. Every waking moment (and also in my sleep, but then the melodrama returns).

Yours as well,

Kil(lian)

22 Killian Row But it doesn't feel the same at all. 1450 0 5