Something gets annoying, and out comes “so annoying”—in that particular way my ex used to say it. We broke up a while ago, but the phrase has found a home in my own muttering.
What comes back isn't some huge event. It's their calm, barely moving face, oddly reminiscent of a capybara. They smiled too, of course. My memory has just picked the quiet capybara face as its default thumbnail.
The relationship ended. Apparently, the response to annoying chores transferred over.
The words bring the voice and face with them
I'm not thinking about my ex all the time. It's when things get stressful that an old pet name or that phrase slips out. Then the voice, the face and the feeling of being together seem to follow.
The phrase doesn't arrive alone. I hear it in their voice, picture that still face, and remember the smile too. A few words carry quite a lot of company.
Brain: “Opening related files.”
Capybara-like memory: “...So annoying.”
Me: “So annoying...”
The person isn't here, but the phrase still starts up.
Ordinary moments left their mark
Feeling comfortable together wasn't always about having a problem solved. Sometimes it was being able to grumble, hearing a familiar voice, or knowing a silly complaint wouldn't change the relationship.
What I remember isn't a résumé or a list of achievements. It's a voice, a smile, an expression and a way of speaking. In this case, that very quiet face turns up a lot.
Usually calm. Smiling when there's something to smile about. Saying the catchphrase when things are a hassle. Reducing a person to three capybara settings feels unfair, but those are the little scraps my memory serves up.
None of that settles whether I still have feelings or want to get back together. Remembering someone and deciding what I want now are different questions.
Relationship: ended. Face: still saved. Catchphrase: launching again today. The uninstaller missed a file.
