“Think of it as me going away for only a week.”
He got in the cab and just like that, I walked back to my place trying to shake the thought, “I don’t know when I’ll be seeing him again.”
I’ve always been that girl – the one who didn’t see the need for relationships, who never felt comfortable pursuing someone, who was happy to spend weekends alone in a café thinking aloud.
When I moved to Bangkok, nothing changed, no matter how much testosterone was thrown into my face. Sure, I was out every night meeting new people but no one shook up my focus.
The first time
I never told him the full story but the first time we met was at Uber’s one year anniversary party in April. I was extremely fresh, still on probation at work and still bullshitting my way as a newbie expat – namely stuffing salmon tar tar into my mouth while discussing life in Southeast Asia with young ambitious Europeans.
Meeting someone was the furthest thing from my mind.
But then, standing at 195cm tall in a bright orange t-shirt, megawatt smile and enveloping my friend in a bear hug, I think I became smitten with a giant. We didn’t cross paths during this party but I still think back to this moment and smile each time I catch his profile.
“The only thing I’m certain about is us.”
Now I am too. Fast forward eight months and we’re now doing this long distance thing, something I’ve never really believed in.
But it’s not time to say goodbye, I’m not ready. And no matter what happens, I won’t look back with regret because this love is turning the cynical me into someone who’s more than ok with being the big spoon.
The rest of that Uber night was a drunken selfie blur until we finally crossed again half a year later – this time I caught his eye at our first hello.
So let’s do this to the best of our ability and remember what it took to get to where we are now. I’ll see you soon, promise.