My name is Leluu, I have a supper club. People have heard about my supper club and they email me to book a place, and I say, yes, do come along.
I spend all day cooking an 8 course dinner for about 25 or so people (with my lovely mum), perhaps once a week. They make friends at the communal table, drink a lot of wine and enjoy what I give them to eat. Sometimes, the atmosphere is electric – a stunning combination of people with like minds and a hungry enthusiasm to meet others, to expand circles, to share and to give.
I have had the most amazing times running these nights. I’ve been blessed and filled with wonderful compliments and I keep seeing the same faces time after time and make wonderful friends with my guests.
I am so lucky to have such a great job. I’ve met people who were exactly like me in every sense in thought and spirit. I’ve met people who have showed me things I didn’t know and given me more than I had anticipated. I’ve built long lasting friendships with people who care for me like I am a sister to them and have given forgiven my misgivings. This is what I wanted when I started the supper club without ever expecting it and for it to last two years and a bit.
And when I have been in love in these times, I am proud to show this person what I have created, brick by brick and I loved sharing them with my guests. Drinking wine at the end of the night with the person I loved with strangers in my house, making jokes, giving insights, revealing themselves to other strangers.
And when the strangers leave, it would just be the two of us, in midst of the music still blearing from the Bose, bouncing its acoustic magic upon a kiss, a proud cuddle, turn off the table lamps and lets go to bed.
But, ‘buts’ are inevitable for me, there have been many times when there isn’t someone to love and it almost feels the saddest, loneliest thing to have all these people come round for dinner and at the end of the night, I gather the glasses into a bucket (ready for the dishwasher), the clinks it makes when staked one on top of another echos with the sweet tunes of Moon River and clonks of my high heels on the laminate flooring, my only company. Except for my loyal and gracious dogs who bounce around in relief that all the guests have filtered through and they can reclaim their space.
I am left with Twitter feeds, late night television and chews of the night’s random leftovers. Perhaps I would eat a dessert someone hadn’t touched or open a packet of ramen.
“Once, I wanted to be the greatest”, perhaps more than once, every time I fell in love, perhaps too many times, perhaps too willingly when “no wind or weather fall could stop me” but came a flood and it was an illusion or foolishness. For sure, love, is my addiction, I feel rancid withdrawals without it and therefore, it must be a bad thing to love, or to love too much, for sure to love someone more than yourself.
Brick by brick, step by step, one always move further away from the abolition of it, detox and everything is fixed until, another one comes along and you can not resist.