Accepting Death

I came to London not knowing the proper way in which to prepare rice for cooking.

I remember one Saturday night I wanted to steam mince pork with rice and you taught me how to do it. You fill the pot up with water, knead lightly. Feel the rice grains running over your hands, feel the pain shooting up as warm hands plunge into ice cold water. Feel the sensation of rice grains and numbness simultaneously. Hear you talk about how your mother hated to do it, and you always did it for her. How it was something you didn't mind. Feel the smile across my face as I watched you washing the rice intently. Hear you complain about how it appeared the water never washed the rice clean and it was "gross".

I never washed rice again after that. You always did it for me. You cooked me porridge the one day I was sick. I ate it instead of dinner and gave my fish and chips to Michelle who was hungry that day. It had sweet potatoes, carrots and chicken on it. When it was hot it tasted yummy, but for some reason when you heated it up later that day I felt like vomiting. I'm not sure if its the same night where you asked why, and I replied "maybe I'm pregnant" and then you looked like your soul flew out of the window as I tried to shake you and say I'm Kidding! Hello how could I be pregnant if we haven't had sex? Are you in primary school where pregnancy comes from holding hands? and you were stunned the rest of the night anyway.

The week after we broke up, I washed the rice for dinner. Rufus started scolding me, asking me why I was washing it so much, It needs some starch left you know! And I replied, that's how he likes it, he always wants it to be clean. Let the fool wash it himself then, Rufus replied. That night after they left to change for ice skating, I lingered in the room and watched you try to beat a racing game. You eventually did it and I left thinking, if you put that much effort and dedication into our relationship it would have worked out.

Today I washed rice again, in our little sink in TG04. I plan to eat rice for lunch and went to get more rice from your room. The daffodils I bought for a pound and gave to you the day before we broke up are blooming now, just in time for Chinese New Year. You smiled when you reached up to get the rice and hand it to me. You made a comment about how you hadn't killed them yet, amazingly. I replied, yes, considering that a malevolent spirit resides here.

As I washed the rice, I remember everything about that night. How you taught me how to wash the rice and how the rice grain felt running over my hands that night as you taught me how to knead the rice. I felt the numbness seep into my fingers again as I thought about you, and thought about then.