When I fell in love with him my mouth tasted like green beans. Fresh
uncooked green beans. His name was beautiful and I knew after hearing him speak
that I will be hearing his voice for years to come. The snapping of green beans, the
leafy juice produced by chewing them for to long and the little bits of bean you
find after swirling your tongue along your teeth all remind me of him.

Apples remind me of when my mom was calling that man from Buffolo. The
man that I hate. Granny Smiths for when he calls her Red Delicious for when she called
him. The sweet laughs and sighs from her mouth and the sweet juices from the
apples in mine could never mask the bitter pain I felt hearing them.

I had a hand full of grapes when my dad talked about me moving away. He
talked about San Francisco and how I belong there. He talked about how " London
is to big for Irvine". When he cried I couldn't eat the grape. So I just nibbled
on the skin. It tasted bitter and when I looked down the grape was all exposed
and mushy. It looked like my dad.

I ate raspberries with my friend. She was gourgius. Still is. We wore
the raspberries on our fingers like hats as we planned our escape. She is going
to make films and I'm going to write. We watched the red juice stain out white
clothes and bit the seeds of the raspberries with our front teeth to see how
they tasted.
But it's not just food that reminds me of things. My pomegranate soap reminds me
of the day I realized that I love myself. Flowers remind me of everything good
in the world. The moon reminds me that no matter how ugly your life may seem,
there are bigger a s. beautiful things out there. The morning grass with its dew
and crawling bugs brings back memories of elementary school. And the silent
thick air of the night reminds me of the times I walked to the lake. Those
nights I didn't bring a coat. I couldn't feel anything inside of me so I wanted
the sting of cool wind on me to prove that I could feel. I did feel. And I still
can.