Last Summer I had a lovely something with a someone that changed my perspective on love and relationships. Needless to say, I had a genuine case of “this is it”.
I was completely blindsided by the context of our break-up, as detailed in the recipe I published shortly after called “Break Up With Me Coconut Curry Ribs”. Well— silly ole me thought I was totally over him and became ‘curious’ about ‘catching up’ while passing through his current town-of-residence.
Some of us need to be taught the same lesson twice.
Catch Up With Me Chana Masala
Ingredients
1 onion, chopped
A false sense of indifference - you only hoped this moment would happen for several months
2-5 garlic cloves
A punctured oil pan and flat tire that derails your road trip plans
1 head of cauliflower
Travel & nature fatigue
1 can of chickpeas
Questionable amount of water
Potentially pathological compulsive thoughts about men (thanks mom)
An assortment of spices left behind by past tenants that can likely be combined to be called “masala”
A sense of freedom and resilience still in its infancy
1 bunch of Mustard Greens
A very cute man that you were relatively recently totally in love with
coconut oil
Directions
Get coffee with man. He arrives by bicycle. Learn this town is more granola than expected. He buys a pastry and coffee for himself but nothing for you. Boundaries have been set.
Catch up. He’s in a much more grounded place in life. He’s working on being more flexible. Listen while he describes his growth and path in life essentially matching yours. Bite your lip as not to acknowledge it aloud.
Remember how cute he is with a warm voice and openness when prompted. Notice the swollen hands and traps of a climber!
Agree to make dinner later. Meet at the grocery store. He wants to make Chana Masala and is happy to ad-lib the greens. Decide that the mustard looks fresher than collards. He’s never had them before.
Caravan to his place. Start chopping onion while he chops cauliflower. Realize that you don’t actually know what Chana Masala is. Debate adlibbing most of the spices. Recall that when he first cooked for you, he would follow a recipe and change one ingredient to work on his culinary confidence. Notice that today, almost a year later, he’s not following a recipe. He was so rigid that he would tactically plan how he would strengthen his flexibility. That’s how you knew you could love him.
Heat pan. Notice speck on pan. Attempt to take it off with finger. Burn finger so bad the skin immediately looks like dried chicken. Once man puts burn cream on your finger, realize burn is too serious. Recall that you are supposed to praise men for their help in order to make them feel appreciated but your skin hurts too much. Ask for ice. Keep finger compressed until pain is tolerable.
Add coconut oil to pan. Let man start sauteing cauliflower. He wants to before adding garlic and onions. Question it briefly but let him anyway because you don’t want to sound like you’re doubting him.
Once cauliflower is brown, add garlic and onion and cook until translucent. Add water because neither of you felt financially inclined to buy broth. Bring water to a simmer.
Once water comes to a simmer, add one can of drained chickpeas. Search through communal spice shelf for spices common in Masala. End up googling it - red chili powder, turmeric, garam masala, coriander powder, and cumin. Add a few other things for fun.
Let simmer for 5 minutes and taste. Add more spices, salt, and pepper as needed. Once desired flavor is reached, add mustard greens until they wilt.
Sit down with man. Continue to hear him share thoughts that feel as if you’re speaking them. Remember that you haven’t felt this easily understood by another human since you broke up. As he talks, feel that you could be everything - friends, partners, lovers, family. Realize that even though you’ve met men you thought were more impressive, trust and understanding are each an arm that hold a hug.
Finish eating. He asks if you want to take some “home”. But “home” is a car with a cheap cooler and you’ve had too many tummy aches this week from eating 3-day-old shaved brussels sprouts. Leave the rest with him.
When his roommates come home, watch him be comfortable around them. They’re witty, intellectual, and odd just like him. Feel happy he found a homey semi-temporary household. Grow quiet because even though you grew up with a big family the noise is overwhelming and you can’t track the conversation. Maybe that’s how you learned to scream. Or sit in silence. Or both.
Go to his room. To your surprise - do things that most people only do in bedrooms. Feel happy you have just a few more moments together but ultimately feel confused.
Leave the next morning and cry all of Route 12 between Hanksville and Escalante. Let yourself feel what’s been missing in other connections and feel the grief of it likely missing from your future.
Meet two women at a campground who ask to keep an eye on you. They know you’re alone and have been women alone before. The next day, meet up with a friend who mostly distracts you for the weekend. When she leaves and you’re alone again, feel the confusion so deeply you feel swallowed. The sense of wholeness you’ve felt the past few months now seems like just a tease.
Reach out to cute man. He already texted you a couple days before to make sure you didn’t have more car troubles. Ask to talk. Man agrees to talk over the phone. Do so. Ask for clarity on why you are not together.
Have man remind you of reason for breaking up and feel it all over again. Your defectiveness. That everyone is allowed to be imperfect but in partnership except you. That you will always be longing for the fondness you once shared. That although you were both in love, your experiences were too different. Try your best to understand that what was good for you was turbulent for him. Your temperaments, complimentary for some, feel incompatible to him. Try your best to accept what he’s saying, but your experience was so different it’s still hard. That was the real reason for breaking up.
Recall the Ke-Huy-Quan interview that you listened to while searching for ancient pictographs today in which Dax Shepard says that when you’re an actor auditioning for a role, you can’t always see why you’re not working for a scene until you sit in the casting chair. As an actor, ones perception of the scene is so narrow that it’s impossible to see what’s not working unless you watch all the moving parts from the outside. You can give it your all, feel great in the moment, and still not be the right fit.
Say goodbye. Cry because you know that it’s for forever this time.
My heart!
Veryy relatable ♥️