More Garlic Please

Spoonbill,

Mehr Knoblauch bitte. This is how you say “More garlic please,” in German. Of all the requests in all the languages, why do I know this one? To be completely honest, I don’t remember the conversation that led to this becoming one of the few phrases I learned in German. Nonetheless, it was. Here’s the other phrase I still remember:

Ich liebe dich.

I love you.

Awhile ago you remarked that it was funny how easily I got over my year-and-a-half-long relationship with the boy I moved in with, but it’s been impossible for me to get over the whirlwind, long distance romance that preceded it. I’ve been thinking about this and, not only is it funny, it’s downright hilarious. We found each other. We loved each other. I threw him away. I found out later that he was perfect for me. I chose someone else anyways. It was the wrong choice. And then, it was too late. Hunter is with another girl. They live together. She probably makes him very happy. He deserves to be happy. Meanwhile, I can’t imagine another boy who would make me as happy as he might have. This would make a great Katherine Heigl movie if it had a happy ending. Hysterical!

I recently met another boy from the land of lederhosen and heartbreak. I’m not sure what I was thinking when I agreed to go out with him. I wish I had taken that 100 level philosophy course, Symbolic Logic, in university after all. Maybe then I would have recognized right away the fallacy of “I love Hunter. Hunter is a German boy. Therefore I love all German boys.” Instead I went for coffee with Alex.

Don’t you just hate it when you meet an attractive, charming guy who apparently likes you and can’t wait to take you out again? Alex is all of these things. Unfortunately, he also has a gorgeous German accent. I heard Hunter whenever Alex spoke. I heard him saying, “It’s good that you’re laughing” and “But I love this” and most painfully, I heard him whispering to me in German and explaining afterwards that he just told me all the reasons he loves me. Although this should come as no surprise, since I hear these things even when no one is speaking at all.

It was hard to evaluate whether there was a connection between us or not when the highlights reel of my brief time with Hunter was secretly playing on a loop behind my eyelids. So I went out with Alex a second time. And this time I managed to live more fully in the moment and I was enjoying the conversation. I felt like some good banter might be developing. I was laughing and smiling. And then he said something rather offensive, which I won’t repeat at this moment. I have yet to determine whether it was due to the language barrier, a failed attempt at humour, or a reflection of what he really thinks. I discussed at length with the coworker that introduced us in the first place and she has convinced me to go out with him again. I plan to ask him directly about his remark and uncover its true nature. I’ll let you know how that goes.

In the meantime, I wonder if Hunter has ever found himself inexplicably thinking of me while eating a somewhat bland bolognese.

More garlic please,
Ibis

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