Sitting at the park with a few drinks was my favourite way to spend time with her, I was glad we were able to do it even after the breakup. Since she had never really visited Oosterpark, I suggested we go there that time. We found a nice spot in the sun not too far from the pond, parked our bikes, and sat down.

I couldn’t help but feel so lost with how much I wanted it to work out, how nice it could have been, how close it seemed to being something I had been wanting for such a long time. These hangouts would bring those feelings out sometimes, so I knew we couldn’t do them too often.

We were lying down for a while, listening to Leonard Cohen and talking about whatever crossed our minds. Feeling as comfortable as I did with her meant I could ask her practically anything, and she always seemed to answer without a filter. It was addicting, it made me want us to cover every topic imaginable from every angle. I know well how rare this is, I treasured every moment.

She was never one for art either, at least from what I gathered. She loves writing, but doesn’t consider herself to be too creative in other mediums. I always believed she had an eye for it though, even if she disagreed.

The way the Muiderkerk was peeking over the trees looked really nice to me, I thought I would share it with her. I pointed over to it and said I liked how the church seemed to poke out perfectly in the middle of these two other trees, like three towers aligned in a row. She looked for a bit, and then told me to draw it. I took a quick photo, and drew it once I got home.

I’m exhausted by the idea that all relationships exist as teaching moments, that even every failure exists to teach us something. It’s like forcing a naturally chaotic and disorganised thing into a tiny wrapped box. Not all things need to be reduced to a single line, a single lesson. That’s stressful in its own way.

Anyway, I just feel grateful for this one moment.

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