I thought I could contribute something to the theme of change.
I guess what I have come to understand in the last few days is that change can happen slowly and it can also happen so fast that it gives you whiplash. I guess one of the most hurtful of changes is losing someone that you love and care about.
Heartbreak. It’s crushing. You feel like your chest is being physically forced inwards. You can’t breathe, you feel sick and it all seems to spill out of you in the form of endless tears.
Two weeks ago I was given the most amazing surprise ever. My boyfriend (well assumed anyway – there was never an official ceremony of status-defining) at the time told me via a mysterious card to my work desk to leave my flat between the hours of 8 and 9pm that Friday evening. I returned to find that he had flown up from Dunedin only to be standing there in my kitchen. My body shook with shock. It was the best feeling. The following weekend I flew down and spent the weekend helping out his broken body (turns out exercise is a direct cause of broken collar bones). Both weekends were wonderful. I usually only got to see him once a month or so, so two weekends in a row was a real treat. Everything seemed to be great.
Twelve hours after I kissed him goodbye at the airport to fly back home he called me. In twelve hours this wonderful thing I thought we had hurtled into a brick wall.
In all fairness he did the honourable thing, for which I am proud. He was honest. I think a lot of males could take a leaf out of that book. It hurt him to say what he did, but in the end it would have happened sooner or later. After all, he had no plans of staying in the country next year. I don’t hate him. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I just miss him. After that phone call ended I felt like I had lost my person. The person I tell everything. The person who is the first to know any exciting news. The person who tells me everything will work out. It takes time to adapt to such a sudden change. Little things remind you of that person all the time and it hurts, it hurts deep inside of you. I still text him. We both find it easier that way. Makes it less of a shock to the system and makes the void seem a little less empty. All I really want to do though is to hug him and for him to tell me it will all be all right.
I made these cupcakes with him for his friend’s welcome to Auckland party the same weekend he came to surprise me. Writing about these has been interesting. Half of me mourns those wonderful times we spent together, but the other half celebrates them and is so grateful that they were able to happen in the first place.
I got given a crème brulee torch for Christmas two years ago and never managed to get around to filling it with butane. He did that for me. He also fixed all the broken things in our flat.
His friend loves s’mores so in amongst the Cake Days book by the Hummingbird Bakery in the UK we found a recipe for s’more-inspired cupcakes, which was perfect because I happened to now have a blow torch full of butane.
I thought the meringue needed more sugar in it to make it firmer and since I am greedy I used about half a packet of digestive biscuits and inserted a whole piece of chocolate into each one.
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