“Love & Other Stuff”
TH is is Artichoke.
editor - in - chief
Hunter Weaymouth
art director
Matteo De Sanctis
assistant editor
Abby Bingham
social media manager
Grace Sokolow
CONTRIBUTORS
writers
Alexandra Caprara
Amy Cooper
Christina Zisko
Anna Wilson
Kabeer Garba
Kathrine Collier
Rebecca Mangra
Kelly Estomo
Nadia Rompas
Victoria Venpin
designers
Abby Bingham
Jethro Sanchez
Abigail Wiley
Nieves Rocillo
Rita Zhan
Brienna Hogben
Sam Loiselle
Khadija Bari
Nuha Aneez
Claudia Ladeira
assistant editor
Siddharth Koyal
community director
Megan De Sousa
artists
Amir Patros
Cynthia Kerek
photographer
Austin Mendonca Garcia
Amanda Lee
Meaghan Gonsalves
Kris Fan
Saumya Dimindi
Tom Dang
LETTERS FROM THE EDITORS
From the EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
HEY FOLKS,
HAPPY FEBRUARY! I hope your winter term is going well so far. With Valentine’s Day on the horizon, as well as reading week, this month is sure to be an exciting one. I have to admit, February is one of my favourite months of the year. I’m not quite sure why, it just feels like there’s something special in the air.
Warm Regards,
Hunter Weaymouth (he/him) Editor-In-ChiefFrom the ART DIRECTOR
HEY EVERYONE!
I can’t believe we’re already halfway through the Winter term! With reading week soon approaching, I hope you all find a way to relax, recharge, and celebrate all your hard work over the past few weeks.
Stay warm, and I wish you all the best,
Matteo De Sanctis (he/him) Art DirectorFrom the Assistant Editor
HI EVERYONE!
I hope you’ve all been doing well, and more importantly, been keeping warm during this cold and snowy weather. I’m beyond excited for the release of our February issue, so we can all get into the Valentine’s day spirit. If that’s not your thing, it is time to get excited for all the chocolate that’s about to go on sale in a couple of weeks! I wish everyone a wonderful rest of the month, and make sure you use your reading week to recharge from this hectic semester! We’re halfway there.
Warmest regards,
Abby Bingham (she/they) Assistant EditorA SPECIAL Rose
BY KATHERINE COLLIEREVERYONE WISHES FOR some special person to give them a valentine and confess their love at this time of year, but after having spent the last few years in the worst relationship of my life, I could say I was looking forward to ordering some wings and watching some hot figure skaters before turning in early. Looking back at my past, the relationship had just been a series of mistakes, one after another, that had somehow worked out enough that my deluded mind was able to rationalize everything that happened, right up to the end. So, today would be a me day, you know, after having classes and work and stuff. That is what I thought until I opened my apartment door. Hanging on the doorknob was a single red rose with a note attached. Written on the plain white paper in swirling legato script was a short note that read like a declaration of love: Meet me downstairs
at 8:13. The timing was so precise that there was no way to meet the wrong person. And with that rose, there went my night.
I texted every one of my friends, asking them who they thought this possibly could have been. Whoever it was, it had to be someone I knew. That being said, I was not taking any chances and had my best friend come with me to meet this secret admirer. This was not the 1930s, where if someone left you a note or knocked on your door unexpectedly you would answer without hesitation.
And yet, despite my worry about who this person was and if they were a stalker, I found myself feeling excited as I got ready. I had not had a good valentines date in well…ever. Who was stopping me from having a little fun for once? Unfortunately, the answer to that question was simple, it was myself. My thoughts
whirled, just like the script in the note, curling around in my mind creating fantasies of a man with dark, devilish good looks wearing a tuxedo and waiting to accompany me to a limo that was waiting outside with his private driver. I giggled to myself, causing my best friend to give me a concerned look but I just waved him off.
He had done his best to convince me that this was a bad idea and that I should not even consider doing something this crazy. He had even gone as far as to offer to take me out himself so I did not have to worry about crazy people who, according to him, were “always looking for fresh meat for their sex harems.” But here he was, walking me downstairs to meet whoever had left that note.
I was dressed in a simple number, a form-fitting black dress that was much more comfortable than it sounded, with a pair of
red pumps and a red wool coat, seeing as it was still February. But of course, nothing that I could wear could have been appropriate for what I found waiting for me in my lobby.
All my friends, every single one I had texted earlier that day as well as a few others who had brought their better halves with them. Everyone was there, waiting for me at precisely 8:13, each with a red rose in their hand. In that moment, I knew exactly what they had decided to do, and it brought tears to my eyes just thinking about how much my friends loved me. As long as you had good friends, you did not need anything or anyone else.
BeCr
OrCrush To u h d
e s
FOR THREE MONTHS, I had a crush on a man I had only spoken to once.
The details are not juicy. I saw him twice during Orientation Week last September and a third time at his college’s coffee house event a month later. I attended with a mutual friend who kindly volunteered to introduce me. But once we started chatting, he seemed disinterested and cut the conversation short. After a curt goodbye, weeks of infatuation crumbled into dust.
Instead of feeling bad about the experience, I have been thinking about the crushing process as a whole. What fascinates me is that an affair with your crush is one completely controlled by you and resides solely in your imagination. Social media only feeds to the fodder, whether you see the girl of your dreams on a beach in Cancun or your main man kicking it back in those Adidas track pants he knows he looks good in. Your thumb rests on that picture and for a moment, you fantasize, toying with the pinky ring on her finger. You think of running your hands through his gelled curls as he downs a Heineken. What if your dream girl contracted travellers’ diarrhea in Cancun? What if your man actually hates beer and would much rather settle in with Austen’s Pride and Prejudice? While social media deludes us into falling in love with aspects of people that are not always accurate, the pleasure it gives us is undeniable. We are given access and tools to imagine ourselves in a life that we long to be a part of.
Is crushing beneficial beyond the surface pleasure of attraction? We usually rush past it to move toward something tangible, like a date, a kiss, or a
sexual encounter. But sometimes it does not work out that way and I am tired of feeling like time has been wasted. Whether or not crushes lead to a relationship or end up being unrequited, the experience reminds us that love is ephemeral. In that brief time of fixation, we grow as individuals by dressing up, cultivating hope, going to places we have never been, and putting ourselves out on a limb. We become more aware of whom we are distributing our energy to and are forced to reconsider if those people are worthy of it.
Crushing gives us that small push out of our comfort zone and I for one am thankful for it. The pain and ecstasy we get out of a crush is valid, no matter where it ends up. I say to hell with stages and processes: go talk to the girl of your dreams, take a chance and follow that cute guy on Instagram, and slide into as many DMs as you want. Go to the brink of your wailing heart and pursue what keeps you up at night. So what if your crush does not know you exist or does not like you back? Rejection is painful, but the importance is that you exist and you are still a valuable person. Love, as I have experienced it, is not just about the butterflies—it is learning to bounce back from loss and trusting that your soul will find its twin sometime soon.
“Is crushing beneficial beyond the surface pleasure of attraction? We usually rush past it to move toward something tangible, like a date, a kiss, or a sexual encounter.”BY AMIR PATROS
1-4
AMIR PATROS
HOW TO FIND Inspiration
BY GRACE SOKOLOWTRY A NEW ARTFORM
Experiencing art that differs from your forte is one of the ways you can find inspiration. Trying something new, valuing other artists’ work and seeing passion metamorphosize in ways different than your own is often inspiring and thought provoking.
ENGAGE IN NEW CONVERSATIONS
Experiencing art that differs from your forte is one of the ways you can find inspiration. Trying something new, valuing other artists’ work and seeing passion metamorphosize in ways different than your own is often inspiring and thought provoking.
GET OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE
Doing something new, something exciting or scary immediately makes you see and feel new things. Getting outside your comfort zone gives you new inspiration.
CONSUME NEW MEDIA
If you are an avid TikTok, Instagram or Twitter user try to mix it up. Seeing new content will shake up your media routine and what you find may be surprising. thought provoking.
JOURNAL
Writing a stream of consciousness is a great way to find inspiration deep within your mind.
GET OUTSIDE
Taking a breath of fresh air, feeling the sun on your skin and wind in your hair brings your mind to a present state which is necessary when creating.
TRY SOMETHING COLLABORATIVE
Try working with others! Bouncing ideas off one another, chatting, laughing and having the pressure taken off of yourself if you can’t think of anything can aid in finding what’s next!
SEE LIVE ART
Get out and experience live art! Art galleries, plays, open mics and more!
VISIT YOUR FAVOURITE COFFEE SHOP/RESTAURANT
Sometimes being in a place of peace and warmth is the best remedy for an empty mind. Be true to yourself and honest, that is where you will find inspiration.
SPEND TIME WITH THE PEOPLEYOU LOVE
Sometimes being in a place of peace and warmth is the best remedy for an empty mind. Be true to yourself and honest, that is where you will find inspiration.
BE MINE
BY ALEXANDRA CAPRARA“CUFFING SEASON”
only recognized by bruises on wrists and wine stains on necklines the colour of my lipstick matches the Merlot we’re drinking and the love bites you left on my collarbone one of them kind of looks like a heart, I think. did you do that one purpose? to claim me as your own chain me to you as a lover’s destiny where Venus aligns with the sun so everything is suddenly warm again? it’s a fleeting feeling, like
heat on lips and thighs and earlobes
i read your palms with my hand clutching yours and my eyes closed head thrown back and lips in the delicate quivering shape of your name. your heart line is curved up towards your ring finger and slightly tapered i’ll remember what that means when I want to recount the way your body feels the poetry I’ll write about you in the annual ceremony of rose bushes being suffocated in snow
I WANT YOU
BY KABEER GARBAREALATIONSHIPS ARE KIND of a funny thing. You put so much effort into looking your best and only showing the positive sides of yourself just to get the other person to like you, then once you are comfortable, you just let loose and expose all of those traits that are not so pretty.
This is where things get shaky, and you either make it through or you do not. The thing I do not understand is why. Why hide who you are at the beginning? You know eventually, that special someone will find out those negative things one way or the other, and if it is a deal breaker later in the relationship, it will definitely be a deal breaker now. So, why wait? Why not jump into something fully ready to speak your mind? If they like you, they still will, and if they do not…did they ever?
Dating is like a game at the start, with both parties acting how they think they should rather than how they might actually be. As enjoyable as playing pretend may be, sooner or later the
game has to stop. I want you. Really badly, actually. I want to tell you about my day in full detail, I want to hold you close, I want to make you smile, I want to kiss you, I want to be vulnerable around you, I want to tell you all the things that I love and hate about this world and most of all I want to treat you like the beautiful person you are.
I do not want to be afraid to be myself. What is holding me back is this little voice in the small of my mind that says to slow down. It tells me that you are not ready for that sort of commitment, that you will not like me anymore if I text you again though you have not replied, or that those key features that make me myself, are not okay with you.
I have a past, I have history, I have so much to tell, and I am sure things are the same way with you. So, can we just agree to be comfortable around each other? What do you say?
A BATTLE
BY ANNA WILSON6:56 PM -JANUARY 16TH
I was never the one to write poems for her lovers.
I was never the one that would stand under your balcony with flowers listing all the reasons why your smile resurrected mine.
I never knew how to get acquainted with that side of me. I refuse to believe it exists.
However, you made me fall in love with what scared me. You made it feel safe… until it didn’t.
Until you left me stranded on an island made of all the feelings I have for your smile. You left me alone with everything I am terrified of. You left me to my thoughts.
You left me facing my feelings… alone
1:10 AM - January 28th
Admitting my love for you is like feeding my vulnerability.
The wall shielding what hasn’t yet died of me vanishes when I give in to my love for you. But, I feel so shattered and the only thing strong enough to impact me is you.
My love, I gave you power to heal and break me and you seem to do both generously.
However, lately, you’ve been breaking more than what you’ve fixed, and the pieces of me are too weak to do anything about it.
My love, I am infatuated by how sweet your honey is that I forget how painful you sting when I get close enough.
3:10 PM - February 6th
Overlooking your flaws and only recognizing everything that made me fall in love with you, is the reason why I’m here right now.
I don’t blame you, I blame your sweet smile, and your loving eyes. I blame myself for allowing your soul to steal mine.
I defied all my rules, everything I ever knew, for you.
I wanted this start to be the last one. My love, end this plague and come back to me.
11:58 AM - February 14th
My love is so Shakespearean and yours came out of a Jane Austen novel.
We are everything we need, but stubbornness put our fears in charge and refuses any change.
Your fears are so scared of my powerful love. Why are you scared of healing? Why are you not letting me love you?
I wonder restlessly, my love, how did we get here? How can you be scared of the thing you deserve the most? A love so powerful that demolishes the existence of your sorrow.
Let me in, my love…
CYNTHIA KEREK 1-3
BY CYNTHIA KEREKBEING SINGLE IN 2023
BY CHRISTINA ZISKOTHERE ARE OVER 55,000 students at York. That translates to a lot of young, single people. Add to that the fact that we are surrounded by technology and social media, and that gives you a lot of young, single people on their phones most of the day. In honour of Valentine’s Day, let’s talk about how to be single as a university student. Yes, I’m talking about using Tinder.
If you don’t have Tinder yourself, you definitely know someone who does. This fast paced, fun dating app allows you to make snap judgements about potential matches. If you like someone, swipe right and hope that they did the same for you. If you don’t, swipe left and away they go into the virtual garbage bin of suitors. Generation X is always saying that us Millennials are shallow, self centred kids with a short attention span, and Tinder perfectly caters to that demographic. We get to choose our best selfies and judge others, all the while swiping at 60 profiles per minute. No wonder it can be so addictive. But does it really work? That depends on what you’re looking for.
One only needs to check the Instagram account @ TinderNightmares to learn that predominately, a large number of male Tinder users are looking for exactly that. According to my own experiences and the experiences of my friends, users can expect no shortage of sexually suggestive messages in their inbox. This isn’t exactly conducive to looking for a relationship based on mutual respect and conversation.
TINDER ADVERTISES ITSELF AS A “SOCIAL DISCOVERY” APP, BUT THE CONSENSUS IS THAT IT’S CONSIDERED A “HOOKUP” APP.
But one can’t make sweeping generalizations. For example, a friend of mine met her boyfriend of a year and a half on the app. This is the exception rather than the norm. Think about it. What are the odds that you would swipe right on Prince or Princess Charming, they would also swipe right on you, no one would send a gross sexual innuendo as the first message, you would talk and get along, and get along well enough to meet in person and fall in love? It’s not impossible, but it’s also not very likely. Unfortunately, for the users of this app, this is how to be single. One three-day texting relationship after another.
Allow me to speak for myself for a minute. I’ve met three of my Tinder matches in person. Between those three “dates”, I have experienced a guy who invited myself and another girl from Tinder to his party, perhaps hoping to increase his odds of a hookup (it didn’t), a guy who showed up late and quite possibly high, and one catfish who looked nothing like his profile photos. Just this week, I was texting with a guy who I later found out was engaged. That’s 0 for 4. Four strikes and I’m out! These situations gave me a good laugh when talking them over with my friends, but this is not how I want to be single.
My experience on the app may be nothing like yours. I may have just had a string of bad luck, and you could hit the jackpot. All I know is that, for a lot of people, being single in 2023 means swiping left or right on people within a 25 kilometre radius, hoping The One (or maybe The One Right Now) will appear. We are surrounded with technology and social media all the time, may it be Snapchat, Instagram or Twitter, and that probably won’t change. It’s only natural that romantic relationships and dating would move to social media apps as well. This is completely different from how our parents or grandparents met, and time will tell if that’s a good or bad thing. But for now, I’ve decided that I’m swiping left on Tinder.
POP
BY AMY COOPERI WAS RAISED by materials
Rarely yearned for what I never had Social bubbling
Without being shaken
Once my carbonation rose
I was so confident I would not lose myself
Yet now that I am Talking and laughing and playing Everything I once lacked but did not miss My glass is full in those moments and Every second I spend alone I feel an ache, I feel amiss
It’s strange to have these growing pains
When I’m fully grown My brain, once my closest friend Now blank or fizzling with woe
I’m terrified I’m so fucking scared Of when my bubbles wane and I’m inevitably thrown away
(PLEASE, DON’T THROW ME AWAY)
TIPS ON OVERCOMING MENTAL BLOCKS
BY VICTORIA VENPINHAVE YOU EVER felt stuck in your thoughts and unable to move forward? This can be a frustrating experience, especially when you know you are capable of achieving your goals. Mental blocks can come in many forms and can prevent us from reaching our full potential. But fear not, as with a few hacks and techniques, you can overcome mental blocks and reach new heights. First, let’s understand what mental blocks are. Mental blocks occur when our thoughts become stuck, causing us to feel paralyzed and unable to move forward. This can be due to various reasons such as past experiences, fear of failure, or negative self-talk. When this happens, it can prevent us from achieving our goals, exploring new opportunities, and living life to the fullest. Now, let’s get into some science-backed hacks and real-life examples to help you overcome mental blocks.
POSITIVE SELF-TALK MINDFULNESS MEDITATION
Research has shown that positive self-talk can help increase our confidence, reduce anxiety, and boost our mood. Try speaking to yourself like you would speak to a friend, using kind and encouragingwords. Replace negative self-talk with positive affirmations and focus on your strengths and achievements.
According to a study by Harvard Medical School, mindfulness meditation has been proven to help reduce anxiety, depression, and negative self-talk. By focusing on the present moment, you can quiet your mind and avoid dwelling on negative thoughts. Practice taking deep breaths and focusing on your breathing for just a few minutes each day. This simple exercise can help clear your mind and prevent mental blocks from taking hold.
BREAKDOWN YOUR GOALS INTO SMALLER TASKS
Breaking down large goals into smaller, manageable tasks can help reduce stress and prevent mental blocks. When we have a clear plan and a sense of progress, we are more likely to remain motivated and avoid feeling overwhelmed.
Let me share with you a real-life example. My friend, Sarah, wanted to write a book but felt overwhelmed by the task. She was struggling with writer’s block and didn’t know where to start. She broke down her goal into smaller tasks, such as writing 500 words a day, researching her topic, and outlining her chapters. This helped her overcome her mental block and she was able to write her book.
GET OUT OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE
Stepping outside of your comfort zone can help you build confidence and overcome mental blocks. When we challenge ourselves, we are forced to face our fears and push past our limits. This can help us to grow and develop as individuals, leading to increased confidence and reduced stress. In conclusion, mental blocks can be a frustrating experience, but with a few simple hacks and techniques, you can overcome them and reach new heights. Try incorporating mindfulness meditation, positive self-talk, breaking down your goals into smaller tasks, and stepping outside of your comfort zone into your daily routine. Remember, it’s never too late to make a change and reach your full potential.
WHOEVER YOU MIGHT BE
BY KELLY ESTOMOLet me know when you get here Delivered
Whoever you are, I will love you— No—I will adore you, and my nerves will vibrate in unison when you smile and look down, eyelashes and all.
When you mumble things you think are embarrassing, but secretly wish I could hear (and I will hear it), I will know it is you.
I will wear patience like pyjamas. My head will routinely hit the bed, I will make a headcount of how many pillow crashes it takes to meet you.
My pulse will practice it is !!! for when I see your face or bed-head, from across the room, back against a hallway, a bobbing head at a basement party, wedged in between strangers, or wedged between strangers’ online pictures.
So just let me know where you are, and when you will arrive, and I will run to you.
You will say my name and the simple consonants will sound like an old theme song I have come to love. That is when I will know.
So Whoever you are, I will adore you— No—I will say your name over and overandoverandover like I need to perfect the syllables. I will wear your pyjamas and drag my fingers through your bed-head.
I will peek from underneath your lashes and ask you, “What was that? Can you repeat that a little louder?”, and my nerves will float away on the blanket of a moving sea until your wave shows up, dammit! Show up already! Or y’know, whenever.
Because whoever you are, I will love you.
So just let me know! :) Seen 3:41 am
KEEPING YOU COMPANY: A PLAYLIST
BY NADIA ROMPASVALENTINE’S DAY. IT is traditionally an occasion for lovers to express their affection for one another through flowers, chocolates, and greeting cards. With all traditions, some dread it, others embrace it, and many feel indifferent about it. But at its core, the holiday is a reminder that love is a common feeling that humans look for to spark up their lives, whether it is received from family, friends, or a romantic partner. But romantic love, in particular, is harder to attain and more emotionally messy to let go of.
So, I still wanted to make a playlist covering a few types and associations of a romantic relationship. While some songs capture the overflowing raw, tender moments of being in love, other songs focus on polyamory, lust, and heartache. The tracks are categorized by relationship status. I know, not the most original idea, but it gets the point across; to cater to your current situation and keep your full, content, or broken heart in sonic company.
In Love: “Downtown”
By Majical CloudzI sent this song to my best friend when she started falling in love. “I’m on the floor and crying with this playing on repeat,” she said, adding a bunch of crying emojis. Composed of Matthew Otto’s minimalistic, soft-sounding synths paired with Devon Walsh’s heartfelt lyrics, the authoritative vocals add emotional depth to the simple lyrics. Thus, creating a melting feeling as Walsh sings, “Nothing you say will ever be wrong ‘cause it just feels good being in your arms.”
In a Polyamorous Relationship: “Multi-Love”
By Unknown Mortal OrchestraWhile the song title is self-explanatory, lead singer -guitarist Ruben Nielson makes it crystal clear in the chorus, saying, “Multi-Love has got me on my knee. We were one, then become three.” Sharing his personal experience with his wife and another lover, Nielson’s interviews in addition to the track challenge the taboo subject of polyamory and represent an alternative manifestation of love.
In a State of Heartache or Emptiness:
“Hellhole Ratrace”
By GirlsGet your wine ready. Christopher Owen’s shameless confession about finding companionship will satisfy and comfort your tears. Initially accompanied by a piercing acoustic guitar, the epic tune later intensifies with a vast soundscape including electric guitars and soaring high-pitched melodies.
In a Hunt for Eye-candy:
“Aqua Profunda!”
By Courtney BarnettIn this short, two-minute number, Barnett describes her crush on a stranger at a public swimming pool. And let’s face it, daydreaming about being with a stranger we find attractive and subtly trying to impress them is fun. This playfulness comes across in the song through the uplifting beat, lively guitar riffs, and comically relatable lyrics.
In a Stable Relationship: “Still Together”
By Mac DemarcoThink you’ve found “The One”? Well, aren’t you lucky? Reflect on your happy relationship with Mac DeMarco and his slacker-style acoustic guitar playing. Find your loved one, wrap your arms around them, and dissonantly serenade them because “it’s easy love, fits like a glove.”
MEMENTO AMORIS
BY HUNTER WEAYMOUTHI WAS SO sad the day we met...
Have you ever listened to the sound waves make when they crash into the shore? It’s so soothing, almost like they’re breathing in sync with you. As I sat in the sand, bundled up against the cold winter air, I could feel a tear roll down my cheek. Why? Why was I crying? Why was I even at the beach? I could feel the windburn on my face and my knuckles were...bloody. All this thinking was giving me a headache, so I did the thing I always do when I start feeling overwhelmed:
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Max wanted to go for a walk on the beach. I hated the beach at the best of times, but in the middle of winter, I really didn’t see the point.
“Why are we here again, Max?”
“I’ve never been.”
We brought our dog, Scout, along with us, but that was more for me. Max loves to run off and take pictures, so Scout keeps me company.
“While we’re here, why don’t we—”
“No, Ronnie.”
“Max, come on.”
“I’m tired of doing this.”
“We said we’d do it every day.”
“For how long?”
“The doctor said to keep doing it.”
“We’ve done this every day for three months. I’m fine.”
“What’s your name?”
“Maxwell Joseph Knox.” Right.
“What’s my name?”
“Veronica Elizabeth Knox.” Right.
“When’s your birthday?”
“Mar—May 18th.” Wrong.
“When did we get married?”
“April, uh…sorry, no. It was August!” Wrong.
“When did we get married, Max?”
“Friday. It was on a Friday in August.” Scout barked at Max. Even he knew that answer wasn’t close.
“What year did we get married?”
“20...18?” Nope.
“What year is it now?”
“2021.”
A tear streamed down my face, but I tried to hide it from Max. “We got married on November 7th, 2019. It’s 2022.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
“It’s not your fault.”
This wasn’t the first time Max had forgotten something big. I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was getting worse. We both were. Max always told me I was being silly, but I knew he felt it too. All these little pieces, gone. I mean, who is a person if not the sum of all their memories? The first person we knew who got sick was Sam. I say “get sick,” but that’s not a good way to describe it. For some
people, it’s a slow fade. For others, it’s all at once. I’m still not sure which is worse. I kept thinking back to a time before all of this. It felt so far away then; it never even crossed my radar. You’d hear stories from somewhere in Beijing or Lisbon. The man running the marathon who forgot to stop running or the woman who couldn’t remember how to steer her boat, so she decided to swim home. Those stories soon became more and more frequent and started coming closer to home. A smattering of cases in Maine. An outbreak in California. The final straw came when they grounded all flights in and out of the country. After that, we couldn’t pretend it was just something in another part of the world. It was everywhere. They called it ‘LNE,’ short for Localized Neuro-Encephalopathy.
The world kept moving though. People went to school, to work. It’s not the end of the world, right? These things happen, don’t they? I’m not sure what’s worse. The fact that we’re going through this or that fact that we aren’t the only ones. We’re not special, not unique. After all, when your disaster is everyone’s disaster, why would they care about you?
The world’s top minds poured hours and hours into finding anything that resembled a cure, but they would always crumble under the pressure.
Every few weeks, a new talking head would appear on TV and proclaim that they’d found the cure, only to be proved otherwise a few weeks later. After a while, we knew better than to get our hopes up.
The worst part is there’s no order in which you lose your memories. You could remember your elementary school crush, but forget your last name. Asking basic questions is a good measuring stick for how advanced someone’s LNE is, but really, it was just a band-aid for a more serious problem. I had asked Max the
“I haven’t forgotten that I love you.”
same questions night after night for months, with differing answers every day, but he never tested me or asked me questions. He couldn’t. I checked up on myself though. My name is Veronica Elizabeth Knox, formerly Gabel. I’m 24, my favourite colour is green or blue, I can’t ever decide. My mother was Joan, but she died before ever meeting Max. My father is Roger, and my sister is...Melanie? No, Marissa. Or is it Megan? I can never remember. All these things make up just a fraction of who I am. Could he forget me? Could I forget him? Max was fascinated by all the sights and sounds of the beach. He ran around, taking as many photos as he could.
“Come over here!” He called out to me. When I made my way over, Max was just finishing up a sandcastle.
“Please tell me we didn’t come all this way just for you to build a sandcastle?”
“No...maybe, who cares?”
“I do. It’s freezing out here, Max.”
“Come on, let me take a picture so I’ll remember.” I bent down next to the sandcastle and Max began to frame up a picture. “Say cheese.”
“Cheeeeeeeese!” The flash from the camera blinded me for a second. It took a couple of blinks before I could finally open my eyes and see clearly again. When I finally did look back at Max, he was gone. He and Scout had wandered twenty feet down the shoreline.
“Max?” I chased after him. “Max!” When I finally caught up to him, he had a blank look on his face.
“Hi?”
“Hi?”
Max’s lips formed a pleasant smile; he looked totally at ease. “Um, ok. Bye.” He turned and kept walking.
“Max, Max, Max.” I reached for his hand.
“Hey!”
“Look at me.”
“What?”
“Who am I? Who am I, Max?”
“I don’t know.”
Max tried to pull away again, but I wouldn’t let him. I snatched the front of his jacket. “Veronica! I’m Veronica. I’m your wife!”
“Let go of me.” Max pushed me back. “Look, I don’t know who you are. I’m just out for a walk here, I think you’re confused—”
“I’m not confused.” I couldn’t let him go, not like this. I grabbed onto him one more time, but he pushed me away again. This time even harder. I fell onto the sand.
“I...I’m
sorry. Just leave me alone!”
He looked the same. He looked like the same man I’d shared my life with for the last three years, but when our eyes met, I could tell there was nothing left of me in him. Tears poured down my face, as Max turned and walked away.
I watched him walk further and further away. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so mad, so angry. After everything that had happened, this was how I was going to lose him? The anger kept building inside of me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I erupted in a fit of anger and began to punch the sand all around me. I punched the
sand until my knuckles bled. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but at least it didn’t hurt like Max not seeing me. All I was left with were memories. What good do memories do? Not much. Certain things I tried to hold onto though. Like the first time Max kissed me. It was at one of those awful office Christmas parties. The first kiss is impossible to forget; the second too, until you lose count. How many times have I kissed Max? When was the first time he made me laugh? When was the first time I felt seen by him? How did we meet? Who is Max?
Have you ever listened to the sound waves make when they crash into the shore? It’s so soothing, almost like they’re breathing in sync with you. As I sat in the sand, bundled up against the cold winter air, I could feel a tear roll down my cheek. Why? Why was I crying? Why was I even at the beach? I could feel the windburn on my face and my knuckles were...bloody. All this thinking was giving me a headache, so I did the thing I always do when I start feeling overwhelmed: breathe.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
As I was just starting to declutter my head, I could hear the sound of a panting dog coming toward me. Something about this dog seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason. Its presence felt like a breath of fresh air though, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
“Hey there, buddy. Where did you come from?” I reached down to the dog’s collar and read its tag:
My name is Scout
If found, please call my owner, Max (718) 356-9103
What a strange name for a dog. Out of the corner
of my eye, I spotted a man slowly walking toward me. He was looking around the beach as if he was lost, and he carried a camera around his neck. “Hey!” I called out to the man. “Is this your dog?” He started jogging toward me to bridge the distance between us.
“What?” The man asked.
“Is this your dog?”
Our eyes met and there was almost an instant feeling of connection. He grinned sheepishly at me, and I couldn’t help but return the smile.
“Max?”
“What?”
“Your name is Max?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I read the tag.”
“Ah, I knew that thing would come in handy one day.”
I was so sad the day we met. I can’t remember why...
I was so sad the day we met... I can’t remember why...