It was never about the food

 It only took almost 2 more years since my last post to circle back to this. I've been spending most of my time analog journaling instead, with fountain pens and everything. Don't ask my bank account how much I've spent on it. Enough to buy a new laptop I'm sure. 

I've spent the last several years thinking my issues, especially my post Newfoundland issues, all boiled down (pun intended) to the food. The sushi buffets I missed, the drinks on the patio, the poke bowls, the Italian pizzeria, the kimchi hotpot etc. It was never about the food that I missed. If I think about it hard enough (and I did tonight with the aid of some mild hallucinogens) I can't remember half the food I ate, and I can't remember the taste of them. What I do remember and what I do miss is the warm glow of people. The friends I ate sushi with, the colleagues I drank with, my dearest friends eating poke together in Hamilton and in Hawaii. Sharing pizza with my romantic partner on the balcony. I was the one who earmarked it all with food, but my memory only stored the people, the food was just goalposting. 

When I was at my lowest in Newfoundland I blamed it on food because it's a easy, solid thing to grab on to - or the lack of it. The harder thing to realize and one I wasn't ready to admit to is the loss of my intangible friendships and love and companionship. That I'm a much more social person than I've ever realized or was ready to admit to. That I can't get through life without other people being there.