Chapter II: A Lover Girl

This guy, we will call him Jason, left a comment on my dating profile. It caught my attention as his comment was about my dress and how he would love to see me in it in person. He was a heavy texter and he noted that I wasn’t. He initiated most of the conversations but to me, since I have never met the guy, I saw it as a waste of time to text so much. We talked on the phone once after he had a little too much to drink and he sounded pretty cute over the phone. After a few days of chatting, we went out on a date. We went to this bar in the town, quiet and relaxing. And in the whole bar, it was just the two of us with a few people filing in and out. We were sipping on wine, and he was basically interviewing me, throwing questions left and right.

“If you answer this question right, I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek,” he started. I was intrigued. Maybe I’ve been meeting all the wrong guys to be surprised by a kiss on the cheek. He asked me, “If you and your partner had two differing opinions, would you give in or would you expect him to go with your opinion?” It was a pretty straightforward question to me. I answered, “I would try to find a middle ground. If I give in, I will resent him in the long run and I wouldn’t expect him to give in as well because I wouldn’t want him to resent me either.” He seemed to agree with the answer as he scooted over to kiss my cheek.

I was utterly surprised by how a simple kiss on my cheek made me feel. I couldn’t stop beaming and if I could blush, I would be red as a tomato. And my lord, I was getting all shy and giddy. I did let him know that as well. I was just staring at him for a while and I had an urge to teach him a couple of kisses of my own, pretty well-known kisses but not widely used on first dates.

I scooted closer until my face was just an inch away from his and fluttered my lashes close to his. “It’s called a butterfly kiss. You just flutter your lashes like this.” Then I moved my face until our noses were touching, “This is an Eskimo kiss,” I proceeded to caress his nose with mine.  We were practically pressed against each other. We stared into each other’s eyes for a few more mins and I moved away from his space.

We just nodded along to the music the DJ was playing, just simply enjoying each other’s presence. He was touchy, my hands and my arms. Mostly, my arm. It was apparently his favorite part of the body. And as any gym rat would do, I started flexing my arm. “What do you look for in a partner?” I asked. “Someone who is understanding and can communicate well,” I nodded. He asked me about my past relationship, why we broke up and how long ago it was. “I broke up with him because I felt that he had no space for me in his life. He was always busy with either his work or his friends. I tried my best to understand but I had my own needs. By the time we called it quits, I was already pretty checked out.” And I asked him the same. He answered, “She was always rude to me whenever we had arguments. We couldn’t communicate well. After a while, it became tiring. I didn’t feel understood.”

We talked about what we wanted from our partners and what we didn’t. Both of us were a little bit hazy from the wine. “My partner would be my priority, work and friends would come later for me,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect my partner to do the same, of course. I would understand if work came first for her,” he shared. His confession made me emotional. It was exactly what I wanted in my past relationship. I begged and begged for it. Now, I knew that I was just asking the wrong guy and there was someone out there that would willingly give me what I needed without me having to beg for it. And that I wasn’t asking for too much.

I just smiled at him and we continued enjoying the music and occasionally staring into each other’s eyes. He was refreshing. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it, open about it. He wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable. I was so attracted to that.

“Can I kiss you?” It was very sweet of him to ask for permission. I nodded. It was a very gentle kiss yet, strong enough to hook my emotions into it. He, then, asked me if we could meet on the following Thursday when I would be out of town. “Okay, what about Tuesday?” he asked. I told him I had to work. “Okay, I’ll pick you up and we will go for brunch.” He, then, kissed me again. Another gentle kiss, yet, whatever I was feeling because of that kiss wasn’t so gentle.

After a while, we headed out to some park nearby. We went for a stroll. We were entertaining the idea of going on a hike at midnight but we settled with a mindless stroll in the dark. It was our form of adventure. Some areas were pitch black which we avoided. Along the way, we would stop here and there for a quick make-out session. We somehow walked into a closed restaurant with empty chairs and tables sprawled outside on the patio. “Let’s take a seat here and chill a bit,” he sat down on one of the chairs. The back was facing the table and there was no other chair nearby. I proceeded to the nearest chair to drag it towards him until he pulled me onto his laps and I was practically straddling him. Our little moment went on for a while until he tried to pull down my strap. “There are CCTVs,” I urged. “They won’t see us.”

“No.”

“Do you want to go back to the car?”

I agreed, went back to kissing him a little bit more and got up from his lap. We walked back to the car, hand in hand, both of us rushed to get our hands on each other again.

We settled in the backseat of the car, in 5 mins time, I was half-clothed. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or just that for the first time, I felt like I was looking at someone who understood my needs, but on the first date in the backseat was a new record.

I was so attracted to him, physically and emotionally. In all my life, I have never felt this way for someone I just met.

My first dates, I was always looking to criticize them, even something as small as the way they talked or ate would be enough for me to run away from the second dates. I always chalked it down to them not being perfect for me, which, I realized, was utterly wrong and that I was the problem. Anyway, that’s the story for another day.

However, with him, that wasn’t the case at all. He was perfect. He complimented my dresses and I loved my dresses. He was wearing a cotton shirt and linen pants. I loved my men in a shirt and linen pants. In fact, before our date, he asked what I was wearing so that he could match my outfit. Score. He was emotionally vulnerable. He was gentle yet firm. Another score.

Oh Jason, I am tearing up as I am writing this because of how much I miss you.

We stopped before we could go any further and we were already a long way down. We tried to catch our breath, staring at each other and we just ended up all over each other. After a few “no”s, “we shouldn’t”s and our waning self-control, we finally stopped grabbing each other’s faces. I put my clothes back on and he stepped out of the car to put his shirt back on, I guess he had long hands, and a long back. I walked around the car towards him, helping him button his shirt. I could feel him staring at me. Then I walked away to calm myself down so I wouldn’t jump on him. He started, “What are you doing?”, with his hands on his waist. I stared up at him, “Nothing,” I stopped in front of him and smiled up at him. “How do you say what are you doing in your language?” I slowly repeated how a few times until he got it right. “Shall we head back now?” I asked.

The car ride back was handsy. I couldn’t keep my hands off of him and his hand on me with one on the steering wheel. We ended up spending a few mins extra below my place.

“I’ll see you on Thursday,” he said. And I looked forward to it.

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Thursday came around. We didn’t manage to meet. He had a family gathering.

I went on a short trip out of town with my best friend the day after and let’s just say, the whole trip, I ended up talking about him. 

I also texted him a lot. I was planning for that trip to be a man-free trip, including talking about them. Alas, it ended up the total opposite. 

He butt dialed me at some point during the trip. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw his name. I texted him to see what it was about. Well, he accidentally called me while showing his family my photos. I felt a little giddy to hear that he was already telling his family about me only to realise after that I was one of the three or four girls. I didn’t know that then. 

I realised that I really liked him. He felt like the ocean in summer and warm soup in winter. I would be happy to have him as my partner, maybe not now but in the future. I really wanted that. I’ve never been with someone like him before, so grounded, self-aware and gentle. If this didn’t work out in the long term, I would still be fine. At least, I got to experience him and I felt pretty content with that. 

Two years ago, if the same situation had presented itself, I would have fixated on it, obsessed with the idea of it. Now, I just felt calm knowing that whatever I had with him, I learned something from it, that who I needed was out there and I just haven’t found him yet, and that if he wasn’t the one for me, I would be fine. It was enough. 

We just chatted about everything under the sky over wine in the pool for both nights, guys, work, past loves, and our future. That was my first trip with a friend, no boyfriend and no parents. It felt liberating. At that moment, life felt hopeful.