After my last post, my foreign crush sent me an instant message that evening about how late his flight got in and how awful his hotel was. I teased him that I had offered him my place originally, thinking back to how I felt about him when we’d made these arrangements nine months earlier. He sent me a picture of himself in the tiny hotel room. My mind flashed back to the more intimate pictures we’d exchanged in the past. We made plans to meet at his hotel the next morning, and that went to plan aside from the new guy being on my mind; filling me with awkward guilt, confusion, and discomfort around my foreign crush. We hugged hello when he came down from his room. He hugged me just like when he hugged me when I thought I’d never see him again. He said he hadn’t gotten much sleep in his noisy room. I told him he sounded tired, and he corrected me that he had a cold. Good, that means no bodily fluids will be exchanged, I thought –I can’t be sick for this business trip coming up. I suggested we pick up some cold medicine and as he looked down at the pills he purchased that he hadn’t taken, he told me that he couldn’t swallow them without water. I gave up my bottle of water. He suggested that he pour the water in his mouth, but I shook my head, “I can’t risk catching your cold, just keep it and I’ll get another one later.”
After explaining how to navigate our trains, we headed to a few tourist spots he was interested in. I warmed up to him a little and didn’t feel quite so awkward, after all he was good company and there was a reason I’d had an interest in him when we first met. He asked if I was seeing anyone. I was thrilled to get the truth about that off my chest, “Well, actually I just met someone…” I told him the short version, though having only seen the guy twice and known him a few days, there wasn’t much of a longer version. When he spoke about visiting my country, he’d assured me he would be single and there was no way he was going to be in a relationship by then. I guess no one can really plan anything like that out. He went on to tell me that he’d been in a relationship with someone for four months and that he lived with her. They’d split up for his months-long vacation, but depending on job interviews upon his return there was a possibility of them getting back together. Four months; I did the math in my head. “THAT’S why you stopped messaging me and flirting with me!” I happily exclaimed. It was such a relief to know it wasn’t me and it really had been because he’d met someone else after assuring me that wasn’t where he was. He smiled, “I didn’t think it would be appropriate to send nudes while I was with her. I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about going back into boyfriend mode. I might want that.” I nodded, smiling. There wasn’t a chance of us hooking up between us both sort of having someone and his cold –and I hadn’t done anything wrong to cause him to stop talking to me! He said he thought he’d told me about her. He hadn’t. He probably didn’t even think about it. But that was fine because now I was free to have a good time with him and not worry about where it may end up. So, we went to a park, we went to places he wanted to be photographed outside of, we went to places to eat…and then we went to a bar, and another bar…
We had a drink or two or three and it was like everything that had been wired one way in my brain had been undone. Before the drinks he’d arranged to meet up with another friend of his to return their lost cellphone to them. His plan was that we’d go our separate ways after that. He said he wanted to be on his own for this part of the trip. It wasn’t really rude, he did prefer traveling alone, we’d spent a lot of hours together and had only planned on seeing each other this day, anyway, but it’d still made me feel slightly sad and undesirable –That was sober-me. Three-drink-me couldn’t stop dropping hints about how he should come to my apartment that evening. His hotel was awful and my place would be a five-star resort in comparison. He finally gave me a very firm, “Look, you told me that you were really interested in this new guy and you were hoping it went somewhere. I’m not going to let you screw that up.” And just like that the new guy meant nothing to me, the drunk-me, but still me, chimed in, “I met him four days ago! I’ve seen him twice! We haven’t even slept together! We never talked about not seeing other people! I’ll never ever see you again after tonight, you know that!” Then, I rattled off some unsettling thoughts about the new guy I’d been blinded by my original attraction to him to acknowledge earlier. Sure, they weren’t such big flaws, but there were apparently some hesitations I really had held about him and it was possible we weren’t that great of a match. My foreign crush shook his head, “What about my cold, you wouldn’t share that water bottle with me all day!” I shrugged, “Ah, the alcohol will kill the germs,” I replied. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said. I knew that too. I persisted. He had to meet his friend, he said. But, I’d already made up my mind. “Tell him that something came up and you’ll meet him two hours later. Come back to my place and meet him afterwards.” He hesitated, but picked up his phone and sent the message. His friend hadn’t replied. “I have to meet him,” he said. “It’s not like I’m not interested-” he grabbed my hand and put it over his pants, “As you can see, I’m very interested. But my friend didn’t answer and I have to meet him.” I looked around, “Maybe they have a bathroom we could use…” I trailed off. Moments later we were making out. It was like an aggressive, passionate, in-the-moment, have-to-have-you-now kind of kiss. I felt like I was ten years younger, mature adults didn’t still make out in bars like this, did they? And I noticed it was also a much more intimate kiss than I’d ever had with the new guy. “I’m going to meet my friend now,” he said, “But, leave your door unlocked. I don’t know what time I’m going to come over, but I’m going to head back to your place tonight if you still want me there, and I’m going to——” That last part is a lot more sexually explicit than I usually let this blog go, but it ended with “all night long.” We had a deal.
By the time I got home I’d sobered up just enough to over think just about everything. I poured myself a glass of wine trying to feel like I had earlier at the bar. In a few hours it would officially be the new guy’s birthday. My foreign crush would be over my place soon. Would this ruin things with the new guy? Why should it, it wasn’t like we’d discussed being exclusive. Maybe it wouldn’t even go anywhere with him and there was certainly no chance I’d see my foreign crush ever again. I’d waited nine months for this exact night. I’d anticipated it and thought about it on multiple occasions. I’d taken grooming habits he preferred into mind weeks in advance for this night. Was the new guy really my only shot at feeling this way about someone again? Would things turn into something more with him? Would they still if I wasn’t alone tonight? Did I want to be with someone who would react so strongly to my actions after just meeting me? Would he mind that much or did he have other dates lined up? Was it wrong I’d told him we should wait, yet would sleep with someone else before him? Would this change how I felt about him? I could still tell my foreign crush “no.” He sent me a message asking if I was still up and wanted him over, “Yep” I immediately replied. He was getting in a cab and would be over soon.
The night went…very much as expected. Things were…pretty great. We both were. There certainly was chemistry between us in that department. I was unlike myself, even –in a good way. It might have even been better than the first time when I was still in my vacation-mode. That “all night long” promise hadn’t actually been that far off. I looked over at him sleeping the next morning. I liked him. It was such a stupid thing because all I’d done was rehashed my dormant feelings for him. I wasn’t thinking about him anymore. Months ago I had pushed him out of my mind with the idea that he wouldn’t speak to me again. And now I’d slept with him. And I kind of didn’t regret it –I couldn’t. But now I had this crush on him all over again and I’d never see him again. There was probably over a 98% chance I would never, ever see him again, and there was absolutely no point in having feelings for him, but now I’d have to forget that again. And I tried to fall back on the thought, “at least there’s the new guy…” But suddenly, quite suddenly, that didn’t mean anything to me anymore. It was gone. Just like that. I knew it as much as I tried to tell myself it couldn’t have been ruined that quickly, that easily. So I told myself maybe it would be better when I saw him.
My foreign crush took a shower. I was excited that my crush was in *my* shower. It’s that lame. He got dressed and then that was it really. I walked him to my door and he hugged me goodbye and wished me well in life. We said if either of us ever happens to be in the other’s home country again…But it kind of broke off knowing how unlikely that was for both of us. I unlocked my door and then turned around and in a rush of emotion threw my arms around him again, “aww, I’ll miss you!” I exclaimed. He hugged me back and then he left. The moment my door closed I immediately started crying. I don’t know how much of it was because I missed him or how overwhelmed I felt with the idea of seeing the new guy that evening, but I decided not to let him know I’d started crying after he left. I wasn’t going to be emotionally attached annoying baggage for him. I texted the new guy, “Happy Birthday! =) When am I seeing you later?” with tears still streaming down my face.