A kanji, a memory, a fortune.
How does one pick a memory when the story is still unfolding so delicately?
I floated, untethered, into 🫘‘s life last summer. I thought of myself as a wanderer, exploring the hidden crevices of bodies, minds, lives. “I want to dive into your personal history like its my next favourite novel,” I used to say. I was, at once, main character and bit player. A lingering memory. A friend. Those that I truly enjoyed, I’d send off with a charm. A kanji, a memory, a fortune. A love letter to a moment with a fixed ending. Time preserved like a dead, pressed flower.
This is not that.
I didn’t realise how used I’d gotten to leaving. I left my hat in the cab. He left his laugh in my head. We got into the same cabin on the Chuo. We got into long conversations that spiraled like fractals. We got into bed. As his hands curled around mine, time and time again, hands with the same thin, wizened fingers, I realised I was no longer floating through the world. I had been pulled into his orbit. I was in love.
This is why my kanji for 🫘 is 引 - pull. ひく. A gentle, unmistakable gravity. 引 is the act of drawing something toward you—not with force, but with quiet intention. It’s motion, not capture—two things moving closer not because they have to, but because they can’t help it. It took some time but when I landed, it felt like I’d been searching for this all my life.
I usually write a fortune here. A wish for the year to come. A spell. A prayer.
Selfishly, my wish for 🫘 is also one for me. I hope that we continue to make each other happy and fulfilled in new ways all the time. I hope that we can keep walking together, exploring together, hand in hand. I hope that we can take care of each other through all the dips and swells of existence. I want this wish to last, not a year, but for the rest of our lives.
Every day with you is the best day of my life. Every aspect of you that unfolds is something new to treasure. Every dream I have is coming true.
Thank you.