All I really need to know I learned from donuts

We walked out of the club holding each other’s hands. I was drunk and she was high.

“Do you know that even at our happiest, I can only get 80 percent of what I need from you?” she said while looking into my eyes. “The other 20, I would have to find in someone else.”

“That’s OK,” I replied. “I only get 20 percent of what I need from you, and the other 80 I get from doughnuts,” I added in jest.

I am somewhat known as the doughnut connoisseur of Melbourne. There was a phase in my life when my Instagram feed was filled with doughnuts of all styles, shapes, and sizes: glazed, filled, fusion, mini — you name it, I’ve tried it. My heart would skip a beat every time I saw a doughnut I loved. Doughnut shops would follow me on Instagram and regularly repost the photos I took. I would walk into meetings with people I’d never met before and they would say, “I know this is a bit creepy, but I know doughnuts are your favorite food.”

My earliest doughnut-related memory was from when I was six years old. It was the day before our class field trip to the zoo and my dad had brought home a strawberry-frosted Dunkin’ Donut that I could take with me. I remember being really upset during the bus ride because the frosting was stuck all over the plastic and what I had in my hand was almost a plain doughnut. Since that experience, I would make it a point to accompany my dad whenever he went out to get doughnuts just so I could instruct the Dunkin’ Donuts girl to make sure that my strawberry-frosted doughnut didn’t touch the plastic, or any other doughnut, for that matter. The doughnut girl never really learned how to save the frosting of my strawberry doughnut. It was a battle I constantly fought but a war I eventually lost. This was how I learned that I couldn’t control everything.

I was one of those kids who insisted on bringing a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts home from the States. Once when I was in line to order a dozen doughnuts, the girl behind the counter told me to be careful not to eat them all at once. We had to vacuum-dry a massive ziplock bag and freeze the doughnuts so that they would be in good shape after more than 12 hours of travel. When I got home, I ended up giving all those doughnuts away because I didn’t want them anymore. This was how I learned not to fall in love with an idea.

I once tried to prove my love to my then significant other by buying her doughnuts. It was when J.Co first opened in Manila and the wait to get doughnuts lasted for about an hour. Every week, I would buy her a box just to prove how patient and persistent I was in doughnuts and in life. This was how I learned that you could buy doughnuts but you couldn’t buy love.

I started working in an office located in the business district of Melbourne. Shortstop was a very popular doughnut store located two blocks away that served really good coffee. I went there so often they knew what my name and order were before I got to the counter. I once met up with a client there and took her to the counter to order some doughnuts. When she got to the counter, she asked the girl at the till what her favorite doughnut was and the girl said that it was the “maple walnut and brown butter.” I objected, saying that her favorite was actually the “earl grey and rose,” and she laughed while giving me this look that said, “You’ve been here too many times.” That was how I learned that people change.

On a recent trip back, my friend surprised me with a box of Shortstop doughnuts waiting on the car seat when I arrived. It felt like I was home, even though I wasn’t. These weren’t my doughnuts anymore. Throughout my visit, I made a point to try out all the new doughnut stores that opened while I was away. Some were good and some were OK , but I knew that I would never form a real bond with these doughnuts. I would have fond memories of them, sure, but I would never have a claim on them, nor they on me. This was how I learned how to not get hurt.

There’s a doughnut shop in Fitzroy named Donut Shop that served the best (and only) matcha doughnut I’ve ever tried. The doughnut girl was cute, and she made the effort to chase me down the street when I forgot to get my change. “You forgot something,” she said, when I finally looked back. This was when I learned that the best doughnuts will always be the doughnuts I couldn’t come back for.