The Hobbies I Met

When I met Tom, a blonde tall God, I decided it would be a good idea to start rollerblading. After all, he loved it and kept inviting me to go with him.

We used to go to the park and spend hours getting our knees skinned, and I even got the occasional twisted ankle. Tom would make me sit on the couch, grab a warm compress and keep it on my foot, asking over and over again, “Are you feeling better, sweetie?”

Then, as the weeks went by, I noticed how he stopped having time to join me. No matter how much I altered my schedule, he never seemed to have the time to be there.

I would sit at a bench and text him, asking how soon he could be there. Sometimes he would say, “Sorry, sweetie, won’t be able to make it.” Later, that changed to, “I won’t be able to make it.” Then he stopped answering.

One day, I saw him there. First, I was excited. He had finally shown up! But when I saw the pretty girl he held hands with, all of my happiness rolled down the street before I could catch it.

I was sad for many weeks…until I met Richard, who, with his flexible muscles, looked like a cover model.

Oh, Richard loved basketball! Not only did he watch all of the games he could, but he would also memorize trivia and play some one-on-one outside his apartment complex. Sometimes I would watch him play with a friend, but soon he taught me everything he knew. I even beat him a couple of times, although I’m pretty sure he let me win.

However, after a couple of months of dating, he called me one morning to tell me he wasn’t going to be able to play. “Got some issues to solve,” was all he said.

Apparently, this was the mother of all unresolved issues because even though I texted him every day, the situation never changed.

I would have remained heartbroken for the rest of the year, hadn’t it been for Mike, with his tasty, juicy lips. Sweet, sweet Mike. Oh, I literally mean that.

He loved to bake. I was so happy to finally meet a guy who wasn’t afraid to show his skills in the kitchen. Soon we were creating all sorts of baked goods together.

He taught me how to make the perfect butter cookies. He explained that my cakes always looked bad because I didn’t allow them to cool before adding the icing. I even learned to make strawberry cheesecake from scratch.

We both gained a few pounds, but we didn’t care because we were doing it together. We got matching shirts that said, “Kiss the Baker!” and took pictures in front of our creations to post them all over our social media accounts.

Everyone said we looked so cute together!

One day, I got to his apartment carrying all of the ingredients for our first ever brioche. When I knocked, he took some time to get to the door and, once he opened up, he seemed very surprised to see me there.

“Oh, hi, doll. I had forgotten you were going to come by,” he said.

Forgotten? Really?

He looked exhausted and was wearing his sleep shirt, so I assumed he had just woken up.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” I said, trying to go inside. I could be wrong, but I swear it looked as if he were blocking me.

“What is it?” I asked.

He fake-yawned and told me he had a rough night and needed some rest. “I’ll call you and let you know when I have time to bake again, doll. Okay?”

Before I knew it, he had closed the door on my face.

I must confess I was starting to feel a bit discouraged. I fought back tears as I drove home. Once I was there, I placed all of the ingredients for the brioche on the table. Maybe I could do it all by myself.

However, the idea of baking alone didn’t sound as appealing as doing it with someone else. Suddenly, my kitchen seemed so cold and lonely. 

To keep myself busy, I tried to do some reading, but all of my books seemed boring. I couldn’t even remember who had recommended these titles; why did I buy them instead of the ones I really wanted to read? Then, I reorganized my photo galleries, but that didn’t take that long. In the end, I decided to do some decluttering.

I went to my closet and started pulling out all of my crap. There, in a corner, I found my old rollerblades, along with my helmet. On the other side, the basketball I had bought for Tom’s birthday. While I was on it, I grabbed my “Kiss the Baker!” t-shirt.

Some of my neighbors had kids who could make good use of the rollerblades and the basketball. And there was a guy who liked the same team as Tom. And my baker t-shirt had lots of stains that would never come out, so it ended up in a recycling bin. I donated all of my leftover baking ingredients.

When I got back home after getting rid of all of the stuff I didn’t need anymore, the house seemed a bit cozier, and yet, it felt as I suddenly had space for more…more what?

For a moment, I was tempted to go online and find something to buy, so to distract myself from the idea, I put on my sneakers and went for a walk around the block. It was the golden hour, with the sunset just approaching and a delicious chill spreading all over the city.

I walked until the moon kissed the sky, and the wind caressed my skin. Once I started to feel cold, I went back home. I took a long, warm bath, not really thinking about anything in particular. Once I got out, I took my time drying up my body. As I turned around, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror.

Who was that woman staring back at me?

I looked at her eyes, and I realized I didn’t really know her. I took notes on the glimmer in her eyes and the determination that poured out of her. Then, I went to bed; I had some discoveries to make tomorrow, and I could hardly wait.