Girl and City

I was looking through old emails and chat logs between MFL and I (despite knowing better than to wallow in the past – or rather, our past – because I am a glutton for punishment obviously), and I noticed that I rarely told him how I felt about him. In our entire three-year relationship, I probably said things along the lines of “I missed you,” “I thought about you,” etc. a total of four times. And I never, ever said “I love you.”
Similarly, I never discussed my relationship in my blog entries from that time, to the point that when I mentioned “my boyfriend” in one entry, one of my long-standing blog friends actually left a comment asking, “What?? You have a boyfriend? Since when??”

I was reflecting on this over coffee with BI yesterday, using it as an example of how I’ve changed since high school.
“I was so ignorant about what it meant to be in a relationship. I had no idea what was considered normal behaviour as far as showing one’s feelings. Sure, I showed him I cared in my own way, but maybe by missing out on all the cliched things, I made him feel more unsure about our relationship.”
Like a horse being whipped, words started tumbling out of my mouth at lightning speed. “I was so clueless! I didn’t know what it meant to be someone girlfriend. I didn’t know what to expect of anything. And I never talked about my feelings – not to him or to my friends.”
I took a breath.
“But now, now I know it’s ok to talk about my feelings. In fact, it’s expected that you tell your partner how you feel about them – they want to hear it! I also know it’s ok to talk to your friends about your relationship, I mean I’ve seen Sex and The City, which taught me all I need to know about commiserating. Since then, it seems like all I can talk about on my blog, with my friends, is boys! Boys, boys, boys!”
BI nodded with comprehension.
“Given that I’ve come such a long way in terms of understanding relationships between men and women, you’d think that I’d be better at it. But guess what? In the last four years, my longest relationship lasted two months.
That is the greatest irony of all. When I was in high school, I didn’t plan to have a relationship at all. I didn’t take high school relationships seriously and would have been just fine if I had graduated without ever having a boyfriend. Instead, I ended up in a three-year relationship.
But when I went to university, I was totally ready for a relationship, and guess what? In the last four years, I haven’t had a single relationship where I would actually call the boy ‘my boyfriend.’”

BI chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe ignorance is bliss after all. Once you knew what to expect, those expectations may have actually been a barrier to you falling for someone.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s why first loves seem so perfect – because they’re easy. We’re all clueless with our first love, and it’s a clean slate. Our expectations only grow from there.

But my own statistics still left me baffled. “Four years. Hundreds of boys on campus. I mean, you’d think I could find one genuine love interest, right? Even if my expectations have changed, what are the odds that I would not like a single person in four years of university?”

For that, BI had no answer.

Have you ever thought that maybe someone liked you? You don’t know why you think so, but something in their gaze or something subtle in their actions alerts your instinct. Sometimes, you go out on a limb to test that theory. And when you fail to prove yourself right, you think, “God, I am such an idiot. Why would I ever think that he liked me?”

I have had this sort of experience hundreds of times. I’ve been told that I have strong intuitions when it comes to whether a guy is interested in me¹, but most of the time, I cannot get any confirmation. More often than not, nothing becomes of it and I feel foolish for thinking a guy “like that” would like a girl “like me.” To experience this over and over again is a humbling practice.

But recently, I experienced the opposite, and I want a written record of this to remind myself that perhaps my intuition has been spot on more often than I thought.

When I went out on Friday night, I mentioned that I ran into a group of people I used to hang out with in first year. I never considered them to be my friends, but back in the day, we always seemed to be at the same parties. One of them, CG, used to live in my residence and was always very friendly. He was cute and we got along really well; I thought maybe he had a crush on me, but then I found out he had a girlfriend. I decided that he was just someone who was (naturally) overly friendly, but that he never actually liked me. I ran into CG two or three times since first-year, and he exhibited the same over-enthusiasm, which only confirmed my suspicions that this was the way he was. However, when he showed up at the club on Friday, he did not leave my side all night. Even DG noticed, but I kept telling her it didn’t mean anything. So, to prove to me that he really was interested, DG asked CG to buy us drinks. CG does not frequent bars and is not a big spender, but after looking over in my direction, he bought all of my friends and I drinks. He was a typical frugal Asian boy – he didn’t even buy himself a drink – but it looked like he was trying to impress me. I refused to be impressed and walked away, hissing to DG that she was not allowed to take advantage of him like that. “It only worked because of you,” she hissed right back.
For the rest of the night, CG continued to dance by my side, taking every opportunity to hold my hand or dance alone with me. He was all over me, not in a drunk, aggressive kind of way, but in a “Is this my chance?” kind of way. It almost felt like he was relieved to have run into me again. I smiled to myself, even though I was no longer interested in him. All I could think was, “I was right! Back in the day, when I thought he might be interested in me, it wasn’t just my imagination. I was right! I was right!”
When he tried to talk to me at the end of the night, I already knew that he wanted. Before he could ask me about my relationship status, I cut him off. “It was nice seeing you again,” was all I said, and left.

The affirmation that my instincts were right came way too late, but that is not the point. The point is that my instincts were right, and from now on, I should not so carelessly dismiss myself just because someone’s actions does not match what I think. As I’ve already said, boys do not make sense, but that does not mean I should feel foolish. Instead, they are the ones to feel foolish, because I was right.

1. Maybe I am super sensitive, but I always notice when a guy makes physical contact, however casual. [↩]

Proof #1

My friend met this guy at the bar one night, and they really hit it off. They talked into early morning, and even had breakfast together. He told her that he couldn’t wait to see her again. She didn’t take it seriously, but gave him her number anyway. Over the next two weeks, he was texting her all day and calling her before bed every night. They saw each other a few more times and it seemed like he was crazy about her. Then, one night, he asks her to meet him at the bar. When she arrives, he was already there, grinding another girl.
In her words, “I couldn’t believe it. Not only was I confused since he had asked me to meet him there, but the girl he was grinding was totally ugly!”
I tried to decipher the cryptic behaviour, but could only conclude that the guy was a dumbass. I mean, even if he was out grinding other girls on the nights that they weren’t together, why invite her out to witness the event? He knew she was coming to meet him, did he want to get caught? Perhaps that was his way of telling her she didn’t mean that much to him.

—

Proof #2

When TDH singled me out on Friday night, all of our friends were there, dancing in a circle around us (literally, facing us). He seemed not to care, which is pretty bold for an Asian guy. Although I expected my friends to feel awkward about watching us grind, I later learned of another reason. Apparently, he had a girlfriend, who they were all close friends with (I knew of her as well, but I didn’t know they were going out), and the only reason she wasn’t there that night was because she was sick. How do you explain that?

—

Proof #3

For the first time in weeks, PLB said more than two words to me. What for? To invite me as his date to his friend’s wedding.
Are you kidding me?
You were the one who was all over me, forcing me to make plans with you on a night when I already had plans. You were the one who then unceremoniously blew me off with a lame excuse. If you were trying to make a point that you didn’t want to date me, that’s your prerogative and you made your point loud and clear. Fine, that’s fine. And then you invite me to your birthday party of close friends, none of whom are friends of mine. But that was a Facebook invite, so I ignored it. Now you’re telling me that, according to the Valentine’s Day questionnaire we filled out a month ago¹, I am your match, and therefore, I must be your date to your friend’s wedding?
I have two words for you: Not happening.
It turns out the acronym I gave him, “Preordained Lover” is a curse. Well, at this point, I don’t care how many signs there are that we are meant to be together, I don’t care if the hands of Fate herself reach out from an other-worldly portal to push us together, it is Not. Happening.

1. A fundraiser at our school for Haiti, you have to pay to get your results. [↩]

“You should see the way the girls in New York swarm around the geezers once they find out they’re bankers,” I said in between mouthfuls of fried rice. “It’s disgusting. They’re old!”
My lunch companion laughed. “But from the bankers’ perspective, it’s their only hope. I mean when else are they going to get any action?” GSB said. “Their hours are too long for them to have any kind of real relationship.”
“Why even bother having a relationship? Did you read that quote on Overheard at The Business School? ‘I don’t understand why people have relationships in The Business School. It’s like an extra-curricular you can’t put on your resume.’ It’s exactly like that.”
“So they don’t have relationships. They just have a few girls on their speed-dial that they can call. Call-girls,” he said earnestly.
“Are you being serious?” I could never be sure when discussing the banker lifestyle with a banker, since he would be joining their ranks in a few short months.
“Yeah. Well a lot of times when they have an event or when they go out, they don’t want to be embarrassed by not having a girlfriend. So they have a few regular girls that they call upon.”
I made a face of disgust. “Too bad it doesn’t work the other way around.”
“Why not? You could have call-boys. Just tell them how much you make,” he said, this time I was sure he was joking.
“And what, offer to pay them to be my boyfriend for the night, weekend, whatever?”
He laughed, “Yeah I guess it doesn’t work as well for girls.”
“The attraction of money and success doesn’t work in the other direction. Girls will be all over a successful, wealthy man, but guys aren’t the same,” I said, with a hint of bitterness. “Plus, it’s even harder for consultants than bankers, we’re on the move all the time.”
“That’s true. So you could have a call-boy in every city, however long you’re there.”
“I’ve already started collecting names,” I said, giving him a wink. If GSB played his cards right, he could be on my list. After all, he was going to be in Hong Kong. That’s just a short hop from Singapore.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I met a guy at a conference. GS Japan. If I have a project in Tokyo, I’m thinking we could hook up.”
GSB shook his head in disbelief. “You are something.”

I seem to amaze people, although I am at a loss for why. Maybe they just don’t see it coming – you know, innocent little me, planning to have boytoys in every major city in Asia? Or any other scheme I come up with, really.

Later that day…

“Let’s meet in the morning on Sunday and spend as long as we need to to get through these cases.”
“9am?” Someone suggested. “That’s when we normally have class anyway.”
“I don’t think I can make it for 9. How about 10?” I piped up.
“Why? Do you have plans in the morning?”
“Well… sort of,” I said sheepishly. My teammates looked at me, waiting for me to continue. Finally, I said, “I have to make breakfast. You know, weekend breakfasts are pretty elaborate, they take time.”
Everyone burst into laughter. Then, when they realized I was being serious, they stared at me incredulously. “Your plans… are to make breakfast?”
“Well, normally I can eat breakfast on the go. But on weekends, I usually make a big breakfast – you know, scrambled eggs, pancakes… it takes time.”
Now they were looking at me like I was an alien. What? Was I so crazy to want to make myself a good breakfast once a week?
GSB finally chuckled and shook his head. “You are…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.
As the rest of my group begrudgingly agreed to meet at 10, I smiled smugly. Maybe I was “something” but I was going to have a big yummy breakfast on Sunday morning, and that’s all that mattered.

Classes have started, although that is not as ominous as it sounds. Last semester, I had to take a couple mandatory courses that were dreadfully boring, but this semester is all electives. So in order to pick ones that I will actually enjoy (it is my last opportunity to get a bang for my buck tuition-wise), I registered myself in eight courses even though I am only allowed five. So after I went to the first class of each, I had to cut three. The result? I have an excellent schedule and some very interesting classes.

One of my classes is called “Global Strategy,” taught by a Taiwanese professor with a very thick Chinese accent. Half the time, I can’t understand what he’s saying, and I’m Chinese! It doesn’t help that listening to him speak makes me want to laugh. I can’t even hold it in, it’s that bad. His accent is so classically Asian, he can’t pronounce ses for the life of him, and he kind of makes up his own sounds when he doesn’t know exactly how something is pronounced. Like “strategy” comes out sounding like “training” – I mean, how do you even do that?
But even without the accent, he is a very amusing professor. In our first class, he was trying to convince us of the necessity of this class by showing us the extent of globalization (foreigners invading our home environment even if we don’t have any intention to go abroad).
“You wake up in the morning, you put on your underwear, made in China. You put on your jeans, made in Bangladesh. You put on your t-shirt, made in Pakistan. You drive to school in your car made in Japan. You buy a coffee, imported from Columbia. And then you get to class and you realize, your professor is imported from Taiwan!” (Imagine this whole monologue with a thick Chinese accent, the kind that Russel Peters imitates.)

Anyway, other than school, I have been trying, unsuccessfully, to get things back on track with PLB. I knew a month-long break at the start of a (potential) relationship would be hazardous, and I was completely right.
Actually, it’s more my fault that his. Ever since we came back from the holidays, I have been really awkward around him. It’s not like I want to be, but I just get really nervous around him, because now we are both fairly aware that we like each other¹. He was in my first class when I came back, and I didn’t prepare myself at all for that, so I barely acknowledged him there and left right after class. The second morning (we had the same class again), he did come over to talk to me, but I wasn’t really helping the conversation and avoided his eyes the whole time. The same sort of thing happened over and over again as we ran into each other over the next few days; I would be too nervous to flirt or say something remotely interesting, even if I told myself not to freeze up.
I was hopeless, and my awkwardness was going to ruin this!

Last night, I decided to try to redeem myself. I was going to Zee’s going-away party², and afterward, DG and I were going to The Club (the club that The Business School students go to every Thursday night). He was going to be there, that much I knew. So I drank, a little bit more and a little bit faster than normal, at the going-away party, so I was sufficiently drunk (but not sloppy) by the time we got to The Club. He was one of the first people we ran into, but it was in passing so I didn’t get to talk to him. The rest of the night I spent switching between the dance floor and the table where he was sitting. But every time I went to their table, some guy I knew would spot me and come over to talk to me. Many of them were my classmates from last year, so we’d always be very excited to see each other (one guy even picked me up and twirled me around – he’s really strong). I don’t know how it looked to PLB, that every time I sat down, a new guy would come to the table. Somehow, I wasn’t sure the jealousy card was a viable strategy for me at that point. In between guys, I tried to have a conversation with him, but it was hard with the loud music. I did find it more easy to talk to him, and flirt, now that I had lost my nervousness. But still, he did not make a move.

DG got frustrated and decided that I needed to redeem my self-respect, so she dragged me away from him for nearly an hour. When we went to the washroom, we ran into him at coat-check. He was leaving?!
I waited outside the washroom for DG so that he would have an opportunity to talk to me. He did come over, explaining how he had an interview the next day so he didn’t want to party too hard tonight. Understandable, but I was still disappointed. We hugged a couple times, but he seemed no more interested in me than any other guy I’d seen that night.

DG was more upset that PLB left than I was. “What the hell is wrong with him?” She shouted, a little too loudly. A guy nearby overheard us and said, “Forget him. I would never ditch a girl like you.” I rolled my eyes as a signal for him to move on³. Why was it that, today of all days, when the last thing I felt like was hooking up with a random guy, guys would hit on me so aggressively? Even the cab driver had offered to go out with me to “make that guy jealous.” (Yeah, I was pretty creeped out. I mean, obviously cab drivers eavesdrop, but isn’t it a cardinal rule to pretend not to be able to hear the passengers? Much less getting yourself involved and hitting on a girl at least ten years your junior?)
“Come on, let’s go get you a guy,” DG said as she dragged me to the dance floor.
“But I don’t want a guy,” I whined, although I didn’t think she heard me.

In the end, DG found a guy, and I went home alone. Am I really that pathetic? I guess I am.

1. God, I hope so. Because if I’m just making things up in my head again, I am going to feel like a huge fool. [↩]
2. She’s going to Australia for medical school at the end of the week. [↩]
3. Later, that guy found me on the dance floor and I literally had to push him away and tell him, “I don’t want to dance with you!” before he got the message. [↩]