Thirty Eight

Right now in America,

It’s Qixi Festival, the Chinese Valentine’s Day, and I just miss the love of my life so much. So to avoid the overly attached girlfriend status (or shall we say, in love?), I want to take a break from talking about how I hate everything and dedicate a post on how we met and how we eventually became, like, a thing.

We met on Omegle, and the first time I met him, something in me felt like I was home. But to avoid another period of being emotionally dependent on someone from the internet, he was just a big brother to me. He was actually one of the two people I shared this blog with. My more alarming posts about cutting and suicide alarmed him, and he would e-mail about me not doing these “stupid things.” Actually, he is one of the people who still stop me from relapsing.

After chatting for five months or so, he came to America for a conference and decided to stop by California to see me and his cousin in Los Angeles. I live in Orange County, and he never bothered to get a license. Driving an hour between the suburbs and UCLA didn’t bother me, because on the third day we went to Venice beach, where he kissed my hand as I tried to run from him against the sunset and ocean breeze. I think I’ll never forget that moment when I felt like I was holding all the love in the world between my fingers and it was squeezing me back.

Love aside, we didn’t know how long it would last and how much we needed each other. I didn’t want to be stupid, so I told him he’s my one-week boyfriend before he leaves to finish his PhD. A realistic man, he couldn’t say he loved me since we were only together for a few days. Three days before we were supposed to stop seeing each other and get on with our lives, I started to distance myself from him when we were at Universal Studios. He tried to hug me, I stepped away. At the end of the day, I couldn’t even hold his hand, and frustratingly told him I hate wasting my time on someone who will leave.

The next day, he rode the bus to my grandma’s house in LA, where I was bunking to prevent falling asleep on the 405. He reached for my hand, and he looked like he was about to cry as I coldly pulled mine away. So, my heart just melted and just hugged him and apologized.  That day, he told me he loved me, and lying in each other’s arms later that day, we admitted that we needed each other.


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