by Lynn Kim Do


A few months ago, I found myself in a very strange place. I was fully aware that my world was about to be drastically different. I didn’t like the people around me—my friends, my friends-who-aren’t-really-friends. I didn’t see my family enough. My job was about to change, whether I wanted it to or not. I really wanted it to change. I really needed a job change, but leaving my job or going part-time, even, would mean a ton of life insecurities that I fought so hard to secure. I was about to jump into the unknown and start a company with someone I knew for about two years—yikes. On top of that, I haven’t seen my boyfriend very often at-the-time. Even with all that awareness, my body still cringed and twitched for familiarity. I felt utterly alone in my issues, in the physical sense and probably through my own doing, and, of course, I felt alone all in my own mind. Did I know that things would work out? Of course, I did. (FYI, it does…) I’m not an idiot. I’m just a self-loathing, phase-enduring, passion pouring, and a little bit or a lot of bit on the dramatic end. As I was walking aimlessly (which is the only thing that brought joy to me at that time) through Soho, I sent a frighteningly paragraph long text message to my boyfriend describing everything I wanted in that moment. Right then. And right there. The honestly that came from so much internal and self-inflicted pain was so eye-opening. Because this is the text that doesn’t end at “delivered” but it something I can now say is a goal that I will attain. It is the very honest, too-honest, and real #relationshipgoal that I have created just for me. It is not influenced by Beyonce & Jay-Z, by Refinery29 or Thought Catalog articles, or even by my friends’ on-again, off-again relationships.

Here is a text message I sent to my boyfriend:

I'm just so confused lately babe.
All I want to do is eat a slice of pizza,
roam the street,
hold your hand,
and watch the sunset over the Brooklyn Bridge.
All with this overwhelming feeling like...damn, this is my life now.
Sitting at a Paris* cafe sipping coffee,
people watching,
stringing together fictional stories about them,
leading to a conversation about the next conquest,
then we gradually move onto wine,
a bottle or two or three,
then stumble home on familiar cobblestones,
then even to our own surprise make it up two flight of narrow stairs—unscathed
to our little oasis
with wide, wide and tall, tall windows.
Our precious memories and materials
welcoming us all
waving hello from low, low on the ground.
We make love,
and then I fall asleep,
first per usual,
while you play with my hair
to the voices from Bob's** is playing in the background.
*In this reality, I can teleport from NYC to Paris. Who knows...maybe by this time, teleportion would be a thing.    
**Bob’s as in Bob’s Burgers, an Animated sit-com on Fox

Self-Portrait by Lynn Kim DO
Written By Lynn Kim Do