The strong, silent type, right? Or rather: the strong, quietly thoughtful type. I fear that my control over my feelings for Thomas is slipping from my grasp. I fear it because this seriousness is palpable even as we spend our time joking and laughing, and it has been years since I'd last found myself holding someone else's seriousness in my hands, then straining under its weight as I struggle to accommodate it alongside my own. Or was it my lack of seriousness? Or more accurately: my initial seriousness that rushed to the surface all at once, too quickly, then became over-saturated, then slowly dissipated and faded into a bored indifference. In the end, I couldn't make space for his seriousness in my life when I'd ceased to feel the same way.
But I fear this gradual loss of control over my feelings for another reason. Because it has been years since I was faced with another's seriousness about me, a seriousness that I roughly reciprocate, I am faced, too, with the possible giving up of full, total reign over my life - where I want to go, what I want to do, what I want to be. Even the small things - what I want to do on a Friday night, whether I want to spend the night at his over the weekend and how it would affect my usual routine - constitute an upheaval of the norm of the past few years...and although I crave companionship and a constant figure in my life who knows me, really knows me, and although my familiarity with this norm has morphed into contempt, I am a creature of habit, resistant to change. I crave his presence in my life as much as I am afraid of and/or resistant to the changes that it would bring. Am I ready for this? Wasn't this what I had chased throughout 2017, only to come up empty and rewarded with disappointment, bitter disappointment? Now that it is becoming quite real, and I am alert to what it could mean, the implications of this choice are starting to sink in. Real life implications, that is. The fact that he's leaving. The fact that he will be in Florida for three years. The fact that he's American, and the reason I'd never gone to the US before my trip last year was because it is so far from home.
Nonetheless, there is a force at work here that I cannot fully comprehend, and neither can it be subject to a rational inquiry. I was attracted to him from the very beginning, wanting to see him again at the end of our first date, and acquiescing when he kissed me good night like it was the most natural thing. I can literally count on one hand the number of first dates that I've had in my life that had made me want a second date. And then, despite my best efforts to drive him away, he persisted; overlooked my terrible behaviour; and seems to have seen something in me that makes him think it's worth trying again with someone who'd ended things with him via a text message twice. Any other man would have cut me loose, consider himself lucky for dodging a bullet early on, and I would become an anecdote of that time he dated this crazy person who dumped him via text when she was drunk, an anecdote that he'd tell to his next Tinder date.
Apparently, not Thomas. He is right for me in a few important ways: he's stable, he's reliable, he's trustworthy, he's a provider, he's thoughtful, and he takes this seriously. Early on, after I'd sent my first break-up text, I started discussing this with Raffael. I showed him the messages that Thomas had sent me about how he'd thought that I wasn't interested. After reading those messages, Raffael had said, 'He actually sounds like a good guy, I have to say. I think I can live with him. Don't worry, I know guys like him. You will have to make it up, but he won't leave you.'
Thomas is like a rock. This is fundamentally why I am so attracted to him: his strength, his stability, his constancy. And his certainty, too. That is, his certainty about me, in the same way that my issues with dating him had never been about my feelings for him; indeed, it was precisely because I knew that I had feelings for him that his ostensible non-reciprocation became an issue.
The impending leap into the unknown - first with him, then without him when he leaves - is, quite frankly, terrifying. But I am assured - fully assured - by the fact that I will probably be taking this leap with someone who will be there to catch me if I fall.
The night was also about this: making out in his car to Nirvana's Nevermind; him looking at me with a sudden seriousness, as if seeing me for the first time; then saying, Gorgeousness. Sexy sultry Singaporean. And, with a laugh, Singaporean...model?
We listened to cheesy pop music from the 90s: Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Summer Girls by LFO. His terrible, off-key singing was adorable.