As I was looking at my DSL box, it showed all the names of the devices that connected in the past years. Casually looking through the list I was struck. There they were: I saw A, and M, and S and others. All of them, in neat, alphabetical order, as if it was possible to make concrete sense of such intricate, fragile memories. As if it was possible to simply associate a number to and list them in a neatly ordered list.

Suddenly they were all here, and I remembered the moment when I give them my WiFi password, I remembered their phones, I remembered waking up next to them, I remembered it all. Those beautiful mornings, rolling over in bed to kiss them, smelling them, gently caressing them. There is a saying that “Home is where the WiFi connects”. I wish it was true. I wish this place, my place, was home to them all. Alas, that was not to be the case. But I’m glad they were here, and though it was painful to see them on that list, it was a reminder of beautiful times, times when I not only believed, but sensed, magic.

At a terrible jazz concert she came back to me. I remembered this time, when we were at her house, a beautiful loft overlooking a quiet neighborhood. We smoked cigarettes outside on her large balcony, talked, held hands, listened to music inside, had sax against the large, top-to-bottom window, but mostly I remember that she was waiting for me, at home, having made delicious food for us. It was a moment that struck me, because I rarely feel like someone does something just for me. It felt like I was on her mind, that she was really looking forward to seeing me. That I mattered to her.

I remembered her amazing style, her quiet way of talking, her sadness that was rarely visible. I remember the last night, riding home with her, being so distant. I miss her. I want to go back to the last night and give her an ecigarette so she could still smoke but would do less harm to herself. I want to go back to the night she cooked for me. I want to go back there and hold her, tell her that she matters and that we can try to do something together. That there is a future for us on this planet. I regret having lost her…