Monday, 22 January 2018, 4.48am
In August of last year I spent a week in Hong Kong and met a boy on my 4th day there. I’d met a lot of boys that year and some stick with me more then others, and he falls into that category of boys. This boy was a sticky one from the first night I met him because he was beautiful with japanese tattoos on both legs, spoke with a British accent (the first I’d heard up close in person), was charming and just the right amount of apprehensive and funny, and because he got very drunk that night and threw his fist into a wall on our first date.
August - December we remained in contact sporadically, broke up maybe 3 times while we weren’t dating, said I loved you to each other; he used the same words on 1 other girl and left me crying alone in an airbnb in Sydney, and I told myself I hated him at least a dozen times in the month after. I don’t know if I sometimes still do. But isn’t hate the antonym of love? But I don't know if love should be so angry and so turbulent and so exhausting so early on. He says he loves only me now but I only believe it sometimes. I don’t know if it’s just on my head or if I’d actually be right to feel like this.
In late December I flew up to Hong Kong and spent new year’s and my birthday with him there. I couldn’t decide on a cake so he got me 4 little ones, stuck a candle in each one, waited without complaining for me to finish doing my makeup and then helped me take these photos because he knew I wanted some to document the night. He sat opposite the table from me smiling as I blew them out, them came over cradled me and kissed me on the cheek. This was one of the times I truly believed him.
I left him and Hong Kong 2 weeks ago. He started at his new job last Monday - which makes me happy - I know this is big step forward for him personally and i know he made it partly for me. We don’t text or call everyday, which is fine, I’m not a good texted anyway. But as the days wear on I feel his tone change - like wishing me good morning, or calling to say goodnight is becoming an obligation he fulfils out of courtesy. I spoke to a friend on Skype the other day for the hour and she told me how she’s in love with this girl, and how she makes her feel like she’s constantly bathed in a warm light; floating in the hug of an ocean. I know everyone’s relationships are different and not to compare, but I think to feel like a pet whose owner bought her on a whim and now doesn’t quite know what to do with her now, isn’t the right thing to be feeling.
I’m not sure where to stop typing, if saying any more will make me feel better or bring me to an answer. Or who I’m writing this to. Or what the purpose of this is. Or of I want him to see this, or if he’ll understand if he does. I don’t know if this is a cry or something I want to say once and then bury. I hope if you came across this and read it to the end that tonight you are loved, and that you are shown it and you know.
theartofmadeline
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