I do not acknowledge this void in my life.
There’s a quiet emptiness that creeps in around 11:43 p.m. – when the night is still, the lights are quiet, and my stomach starts whispering – “go eat something, you are hungry”. I pretend not to hear it. I keep my eyes on the two monitors in front of me. I drink water. I look at Ben for emotional support.
I really do not have a void to fill. I really do not crave it anymore.
I still have faint memory of it. The colourful packets. The one that promised comfort in three minutes flat. A warm, salty treat in a bowl. The crunch of dry noodles in the boiling water. The decision of what to add to the pot.
But I’ve stopped. Cold turkey. Jesse told me to stop. I called sister Yu Fong to tell her I have some instant noodles to give to the Food Bank. No more instant noodles.
It was a choice – I want to be healthy, I wanting to reduce sodium intake. I am stronger than the craving. I am. But I won’t lie, there’s a void. Not just in my pantry, but in the rituals of my late-night hunger, one that I am making an effort to change.
Still, I’m okay. I move on to the next show. I make tea. I sit in silence and let it pass. The void whispers, but it doesn’t win. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again.
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