— A former someone’s favorite eggroll.
Exes are supposed to fade into a blur of bad haircuts and unreturned hoodies. But you show up in the way I check my shoes at the door. In how I haggle at the wet market without guilt. In the way I finally learned to say “I love you” in my own mother tongue — because you asked, once, “Why do you always say it in English?” asians ex diary
I still have your kimchi in my fridge sometimes. Not the good homemade kind — the store-bought one you said was “acceptable.” You were always generous with your critiques. — A former someone’s favorite eggroll
Dear Diary,
Last night, I found an old receipt from that Thai grocery store we used to go to. The one where your mom would buy frozen pandan leaves and I’d get shrimp paste in a jar that looked like it survived a war. You used to joke, “Our love is inter-Asian — same trauma, different dialects.” In how I haggle at the wet market without guilt
We broke up not because of love. We broke up because I couldn’t explain to my lola why your father’s ghost stories about the Japanese occupation made you so angry. And you couldn’t explain to your aunt why my family’s colonial Catholicism still made me cross myself before lying.
Things I Never Said in English