The art of sharing

A door opens and all at once it is here, the very moment that we have been waiting for for so long now; we are finally together again. Tears of joy fall down your face and it feels like as if we have never been apart. The sun is brighter than ever and for the first time in human history do we not get screwed by the taxi driver. You’ve been here before, years ago, but not with me and not with the idea that you will now finally see where I live, what I do and who I hang out with.

We eat, party, laugh, drink, walk and do all the things that I always do when I am alone, but now it is with you. We dance the nights away and meet the weirdest people. We talk about life and how fast time has gone by. Do you remember, when I was a little kid and our whole family was just living together on this farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere and we thought moving out to the city was a big thing? And how you used to come home to dad cooking and me playing with the dogs (that at that time were bigger than I was), and thinking that I would forever stay that small? And now we are sitting here, on my balcony in Bangkok, reminiscing and talking about school and jobs and marriage, and how it is so strange that people get so lost trying to find ‘happiness’ in things that they don’t like but feel obliged to do. And then again, why would we care, when we are sitting here now, sharing everything together, at this very moment that we have been waiting for for so long.