Rememberance

He said," in the spring, let’s walk around Mott Street and get our ora photo taken. "

I said, "yes, I am going to take you to the best fortune teller." 

Remembrance 

I remember having noodle soup with Ale and talking about our dating stories and the fact that we both have a UTI. 

I remember getting brunch with Vivian and Gia in the restaurant where Charlotte cursed the day when Mr. Big was born. We went to Kenneth Cole later and they both got a pair of shoes. Vivian was excited about going to Hong Kong for her internship.  She wanted to look like a young working professional. 

I remember staying in the workshop after a 6-hour sewing class listening to Shelly, a fluent Chinese speaker telling us about her Chinese class.  I remember getting lunches and cigarettes with Hayden. I remember Daniel was spinning his pen, and Caroline said, "stop that, or I’ll shoot you.” We were trying very hard not to laugh. I remember calling Lola while I ran into someone who ghosted me outside of NYU.  I remember CBS was doing an interview with Glenn, and he picked up Rebecca( his brush) acting like it wasn’t a big deal and said, “ I am one of the last illustrators that’s alive. ”  I remember showing him the page that I prepared for Petale, and he said, “ it’s like a page that just came out of vogue.” 

I remember … 

I remember the Frick collection.  

I remember getting on the plane to Los Angeles and having this Chinese girl sitting next to me with a mask on while everyone in the cabin looked at her differently. 

I remember waiting in line at an old steakhouse while people were drinking martinis and laughing as if there wasn’t the biggest catastrophe swimming underneath the peaceful ocean. 

I remember Venice and the tents homeless people put up to keep themselves safe and sound. 

I remember the sunset in Santa Monica, from fishbone grey to dusted purple to lemon yellow then back to that grey. 

I looked at him and said, “ this is your color, this is how I look at you.” 

I remember holding hands in the dark and trying to get in the car: as the car drives away, I wished to stay in that moment.  

I remember walking on the beach of Malibu, trying to cross the stones and rocks, and he said, “I got you.” 

I remember lying there in my dragonfly dress trying to stay awake: I wanted more time with him in this beautiful city of escapism. 

I still regret falling asleep too early. 

I remember buying a notebook on my way back to New York. Writing on the first page, “ I thought the lost angel found her belongings.” 

I remember going to Brooklyn flea with Marley; we were sitting on top of the building;  the piano player was very passionate. She told me about her old gymnast life and how she knew girls having gone to the doctor who molested those beautiful souls. I remember getting an antique cookbook and a cloche hat that makes me look like I came out of a time machine.

I remember taking a walk and wandering into a Korean cosmetic shop with Lola and said, “for the first time in my life, I don’t have anything to complain about.”  

That was March 5ish. 

I remember waiting outside of Trader Joe’s for over an hour to get in so I could buy toilet paper. 

I remember calling Vivian crying, being so scattered and scared, and she told me, everything is going to be better.

I remember waking up and crying at 4 am being scared that the sun would come up and take him away from me. 

I remember in the morning, we walked around the neighborhood, and he accompanied me to the ferry, saying that it is going to take a couple of weeks or a month before everything goes back to normal.

I remember having shakshuka with Ariana after the last day working in the workshop. 

I remember looking at the walls of my apartment and was freaked out by all of them. 

I remember Cle asking me if I wanted to stay with him for sometime when I completely broke down on his couch.

I remember not being able to sleep, and we played board games from 3 in the morning to when the sun came up.
I remember going to Le Moulin and was so surprised that they were still open, and I remember coming back to my apartment and setting up a flower stand on my balcony.

I remember taking a polaroid of the flowers that I collected, writing, “March 23, in quarantine, I am going to laugh about this day on June 23.”

The rest was fuzzy. 

I remember trying to focus on schoolwork, making French 75 out of my vintage coupe glasses, telling myself to believe in everyone that I love, and all of them told me everything was going to be better within a couple weeks, dreaming about going to see Belle Lettres on April 24. 

I remember turning my one-bedroom apartment into a sewing studio; I remember carrying a table and a sewing machine up to the sixth floor by myself. 

I remember a time just didn’t pass, and every day was a million years. 

I remember crying in bed when the cherry blossom festival and the ballet were canceled… 

There was nothing to look forward to.

I remember reading Chinese media describing body bags are staggered on Fifth Avenue. 

I remember shutting down my WeChat moments. 

I remember the fleeting happy moments, after all, happiness is only temporary in these times, but the pain seems to be enduring. 

I remember sitting on his window counter looking at the cherry blossom trees outside. I felt more peaceful than ever. 

I remember sobbing when Marianne said “Ne temp pas.” to Heloise. 

I remember the saxophone player on the rooftop. 

I remember walking into Central Park finally once again, catching up with the blooming spring flowers. It was so quiet, and no one was around. 

I remember checking horoscope every day because I was too proud to believe in god. 

I remember deleting the horoscope app because I thought I get to be the one who decides if I am going to have a good day and not the star signs. 

Can you blame me? Desperate people find faith. 

I remember deciding to start my brand: if not now, when? I liked myself so much more when I create something beautiful. 

I remember trying to reconnect or connect with people. 

I remember having Spencer come over a drink, and we became closer ever since. I remember him scooting to the upper east side so he could get oysters. I remember his creme brûlée, and he told me his tricks of getting men to like me. 

I remember the day when New York City entered phase one of reopening. I remember seeing the flower market that was closed for almost 3 months reopening, but the Japanese florist was no longer there. 

It did get better… in some twisted weird ways, everyone seemed to move on with their lives. 

I remember walking back into Laduree’s garden with Jess.

 I remember taking photos of one another and posting them on Instagram with the caption “the beginning of the end.” 

I remember Parsons decided to be online for the fall, and I was yet again devastated. One day I woke up from a nap and realized that I might have to leave New York and go back to where all my nightmare comes from. I remember taking a bottle of gin and drinking next to the east river. An old creepy guy was looking at me. 

I remember crying again when being hold and told, “ it has been a shitty year, but it is going to get better. I know it will.” 

I remember trying very hard to believe in him, but what makes it true if all of our predictions were wrong before. 

I remember Harvard beating ICE, and I got to stay. 

I remember turning 20. 

I remember the original Magic Lantern box, the Disney film slides from the 1930s. 

I remember the anxiety that went off the roof: is it possible that being scattered and anxious just remains a part of the new normal? 

I remember the shadows and lights on Prince Street. 

I remember the shapes of the trees, and he remembers the old money who dressed in velvet suits. 

I like the word “roaring” because it is usually followed by the twenties. 

50 years from now on, people will refer our time as “the twenties”, and they will find a silk scarf designed by me in an antique shop somewhere. 

The romantics tend to romanticize the past and become nostalgic about times we’ve never experienced before, 

But in twenty lifetimes we get to be nostalgic about the present. 

I tend to remember these times, 

painful or not,

They’ll be engraved in us.