A few weeks ago Adam texted me while I was at work. My boss has an iPhone too and picked it up and read the text, thinking it was hers.
Adam had sent the following picture with the caption “Look how young you were!”
This picture was taken at the Vancouver airport in 2006, minutes before I boarded a flight to Sydney, Australia with my best friend. We were off for a four-month adventure that would find me trading white skin for tan, fending off the advances of surfer boys with cute accents and bartending at a rough local drinking hole frequented by “yabbos” (yobbos? Hicks, I think, was the rough translation).
She cried “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” and I started laughing, I knew exactly what she was thinking: “Aww he’s sitting at home looking at old pictures and marveling at how long you’ve been together, how young you were and how far you’ve come as a couple. How fantastic to have that shared history, shared memories.”
My boss is somewhat of a romantic, I hated to disabuse her of the notion that Adam was at home with a box of kleenex and a photo album, reminiscing about the past, but I try and be honest with people about relationships (and also I can’t have people going around thinking Adam has a heart or they’ll never believe half the shit that he does), so I shared why I was laughing, “Look again” I said, pointing to the text message.
It read “Look how young you WERE”.