Things I don't want to think about

(Note: Most of this was written in the past, before it was published, and that should hopefully explain the tenses and timing)

I feel a sense of vague anxiety, which not much seems to allay. F and I have barely talked since I left, apart from a brief conversation before I sent the email. He was away for the weekend, but we didn't talk until Monday night, and that too was brief and he seemed unresponsive - apparently sleepy. I sent my usual offline messages yesterday, and today (Wednesday) we haven't talked either. I've resolved to not send any more messages until he responds. I am sick and tired of being the needy person who chases after him.

I'm pretty angry with him, in fact. I know he's been online and it feels like there's this sort of tension between us, and I think it's due to him. Has he bothered responding to my email or bringing things up? Has he tried to continue the normal, friendly, light conversation that I've been trying to start? The answer is no and no. It's not even the email thing, since I did let him know he could take time to respond. I'm just generally irritated by him, it feels like a lack of communication and not at all what the start of a relationship should feel like.

Family Happiness by Tolstoy seems to cause shivers of recognition in me - for the initial romance and feeling of love, for the feelings of distance, for the way in which the other person doesn't seem to understand the complexity of your feelings - the words seem to do a good job of conveying the whirl of feelings I have in my head.

Wouldn't it be easier to just break things off now? I just feel distant from him and feel no particularly strong emotions towards him in the way that I should. It feels a little dull and lonely, since he doesn't seem to be reaching out or care. But I can't bring it up for fear of sounding crazy. But I don't want him looking for craziness in me all the time now, I shouldn't be afraid to act the way I feel, just because I'm afraid of scaring him off. Still, what would I even say?

At the same time, I think I'm being a little too dramatic. It's easy for me to overthink things on my own, and create a whole story in my head. But what has really happened? Nothing. If I try to think of things to tell my friends, I have no words. What am I anxious about? Why do things feel different?

And when talking about him with other people and friends about little stories from our time together, I feel fine and content since I know they are nice stories, and there's still a caring there.

I think I'm irritated because he hasn't been responsive or shown any further signs that would indicate he cares, and I'm taking this as evidence that things aren't quite okay between us, and that he doesn't actually care or is rethinking the whole thing. My expectations have also changed a little - I expect a little more support and caring and reciprocation from him now, which frankly I haven't been getting. I'd be happy to discuss things with him, but there isn't necessarily much to say.

The best thing to do for now is to wait and see, I think. There's no use in overthinking in my head and coming to conclusions before even waiting to see his actions. I will not be reaching out before he does, and I think that will preserve my self-respect/ self-sufficiency. Besides, we will only be able to see answers to a lot of these when we're in person and 'together'.

This is a very confused post. Writing it did help me clear things up though, at least a little.

An update: He responded to one of the random messages I sent, and I had a sarcastic response about how he realized that it was possible to respond to things I say. He ignored that and conversation was a little sporadic. When I asked if everything was okay with us since we hadn't talked in a while (which was fine but I just wanted to check), he said that he had just been out of it.

Part of the angst has probably been because I'm at home with not much else to do but think about it - friends have been busy. The sinking feeling seems distant now, and I'd like to keep it that way, though I still worry a little about when we'll be together in person. After that, we've been conversing as normal and I haven't been too worried. We'll see how things are in person when the time comes. Look at me being normal! (Not really)

Little Things

- Before visiting my house, he kept joking that he was going to be asking for baby photos and bonding with my parents about embarrassing stories. Though he never quite asked, I mocked him on the second day or so for not being particularly observant given the number of photos scattered around the house. I suppose this inspired him, since soon after that he found a picture book my mum had had made for my dad, which had a bunch of baby photos of me. Fortunately I was an adorable child, but there were still some from the awkward stages that might not be the best.

- The bonding with my parents was also somewhat of a reality, since they would support each other while turning against me - whether about my sense of direction or 'bossiness' etc. It was all in a joking fashion, and I was tickled by the completely false stories he came up with to support my parents when they were talking about the large amounts I purportedly managed to sleep.

- Bossiness was a word that he used to describe me after agreeing upon it with my parents. It wasn't in an offensive way, but when we were in his town, I noticed more of his directive tendencies and brought up that he "was being bossy", to which his response was just "yeah, so?". As I quite enjoyed the more dominant side of him, I had no objections and was given a better way to own being called that word (which didn't bother me in the first place).

- I was filling water jugs at home (as my mother had asked), and he was watching, making me nervous  and causing me to splash water all over myself. Of course this didn't help his pulling my leg about it.

- On the second day when he was visiting my house, I brought up that I might be smothering him. He thought I meant literally on the chair that we were once again curled up on and said this wasn't the case, but I meant more in terms of always needing to be touching him. He also assured me that this wasn't the case, and I didn't think too much about it for the rest of the trip.

- When making out on 'his' bed in my house while I was purportedly packing, music was playing from my dock in my room. My iPod contains music all the way from when I was in Class 8, so Nickelback came on at some point. It was...not romantic, although I did start giggling and pause.

- When I went to say goodnight to him on the first night, I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt - which would be considered weird in my household, and told him to put one on. Despite his "seriously?" response and claims that he never wore a shirt while sleeping, I insisted and he grabbed his shirt and put it on in the dark. It was both inside-out and backwards, but I made no comment. I did check under the blanket and ask to make sure he was wearing pants of some kind and he said "of course!" but to be fair I'd never seen him wear his sleep shorts. (also noted in post about visit)

- At some point while making out at my house, I mentioned that I couldn't wait to be at his place and be able to continue uninterrupted. I then recalled we'd be staying with his family and asked once again if he thought it would be okay that we'd be doing this kind of stuff in their house/ with me staying in his room, and he clarified that they had asked at least twice if I wanted to do so. He thought I might appreciate the space to put my stuff and thus suggested I have my own room, but this meant they didn't have any moral objections to the idea of me being in his room. Furthermore, his room was on a separate floor, meaning we would have plenty of privacy as needed.

- Also a note about sitting on that chair, he made some offhand remark while I was on it about how it wasn't meant for two, and I moved off, mildly offended. He said "that wasn't what he meant", and deciding it was stupid to be annoyed, I moved back shortly after. I did ask a couple of times about crushing him, and he declared it was fine, so I tried not to worry too much.

- Similarly, when I was on his bed, he made some remark about the bed not being made for two people, to which I responded "Fine, I'll go" and he said I should "take that bad attitude with me" and promptly drifted off into sleep. I knew he was joking, but I was quite hurt and not too sure how to express it, and thus poked him awake quite viciously and let him know half-jokingly that he couldn't say that.

- The poking thing was something I discovered - for some reason I had thought he wasn't ticklish, but I was delighted to find that poking him in the midsection made him squirm. Naturally I took advantage of this at every opportunity despite his avowed hatred of it. At some point while on his lap and kissing him, I tried to do this, but he grabbed my hands and held them behind my back as we continued kissing in order to prevent me from doing so. Since this was kind of a desire, I poked him every time he let go of my hands to ensure he continued doing so. However, it was slightly less thrilling than I had imagined it, and eventually I teased him by saying that him doing this was kind of putting a damper on the plans I had for the ways in which I intended to use my hands, and he let go very shortly after.

- He referred to the poking thing as "one of the worst qualities [a person could have]" - it had turned into this sort-of joke where he referred to things I mentioned in that way. For example, my inability to let others help me etc. It wasn't serious qualities or serious criticism - it's hard to explain but it was more like light suggestions and exaggeration.

- I noted that he seemed to have a tendency to not make way on the path for people approaching on the street, which is the very opposite of me. I always move out of my way to accommodate people or feel terribly rude if I don't do so. It slightly bothered me since I thought of him as a little inconsiderate, but further reflection makes me wonder why people shouldn't make room for me sometimes.

- I grew nervous every time we crossed the road. He seemed to charge forward somewhat, while I remained more restrained and cautious (but okay if I was holding his hand). He noted this once by shaking my hand he was holding as we crossed and saying that I was "so tense" and needed to relax.

- A lot of remarks were made by him about the size of my suitcase and how I couldn't possibly need that many clothes. I did end up wearing most of them somehow. I didn't mind the comments since he was mostly the one carrying or dragging it (though I was a little guilty about that), and the host mum bonded with me upon reflecting that girls just had more clothes. Though she did wonder how I had managed to bring it on the budget airline with me.

- The mom of the family wondered how I wasn't very large despite claiming to eat a lot of chocolate, saying that she would be huge if she let herself eat as much as she wanted to. I explained that I didn't exercise, but didn't really have a good answer and instead settled for saying somewhat lamely that my father was larger (something F was a little embarrassed about translating and tried to censor).

- He kissed me every time he left for class, and I liked it. I mentioned something at some other point (after he'd first done it) about how married couples that kissed before leaving were likelier to stay together longer, and even despite clarifying confounding variables and that I wasn't comparing us to being married, I think he got the point about little gestures being important.

- Kissing him awake was something I had thought about, but the idea creeped me out a little bit because it just didn't seem appealing to kiss someone who was unaware. This time I tried it, after poking him a couple of times but before he was actually fully awake, and it was weird as suspected. He seemed kind of startled and a little taken aback, and though it did wake him up and he kissed me back, the reaction was slightly delayed. It's more of a romantic idea than a fun reality, I think.

- Blowing kisses was also something I noticed he had a tendency to do half-jokingly as he was leaving. I wasn't quite sure how to react - this has never been something I've done or something my family does, and so I kind of scrunched up my face and probably just looked confused each time.

- Navigating the stairs was difficult in the dark, since emerging from the bedroom upstairs or the kitchen downstairs was nearly always into complete darkness, since they didn't believe in leaving the lights in the corridor on. I would generally be going first and then have to pause since I wasn't familiar enough with the house to avoid falling up or down the stairs. I'd then wait for him to put his arms on my shoulders and guide me ahead, or reach for him and take tentative steps, at least until he got to the light switch. I weirdly enjoyed this dark navigation.

- Speaking of stairs, I took opportunities to kiss him when going down or up stairs. Mostly when I noticed that I was slightly elevated somehow (or he was lower) and it would be easier to do so, and if the moment seemed opportune. I'd pull on his hood or some article of his clothing, and he'd get the message pretty quickly and we'd briefly kiss. Stairs, sidewalks, walkways - all fair game.

- I came upon some notes and photos his friends had given him for his birthday, and he mentioned that he had taken the photo I had sent him home and forgotten it there, so the photos weren't complete. I played it off with a "Well, you're not even in that photo, it's fine". This did make me remember the birthday letter I had sent him, though he said he had no recollection of it so it must have gotten lost in the post, which was mildly disappointing but not the end of the world.

- Another time we were talking, we somehow got to the topic of our first kiss in the lake, and he seemed surprised that this was our first kiss, seeming to remember it as something else. I know he forgets most things, but it's this type of thing that makes me wonder if he actually cares (despite his saying so), because presumably these aren't the type of details easily forgotten.

- My own memories about this trip also were a little different than previous occasions. They didn't seem to stick out as much from other standard memories or be as special and clear to remember, and I don't keep reliving them over and over in my head. I'm not sure exactly what this means, probably just that I'm treating this more like a normal relationship given that there's more time together.

- Throughout the trip, he kept explaining things about the country's language to me. I did ask a bunch of questions, and he was easily far more fluent than I was, but some of the things he said were obvious and I said "I know". He was mildly offended, explaining that when he was in a foreign country he liked understanding the language better. I explained that I had no objections to that, but he seemed to think I understood nothing, which was not the case.

- While talking, he asked me what my favourite poem was, and for some reason I was embarrassed about telling him since it seemed to me like not a very literary poet and an amateurish choice. I believe I mentioned something about this and avoided the question (it's e.e. cummings), and mentioned that I hadn't read very much poetry.

- He introduced me to this TV show that I found absolutely hilarious. I'd heard of it before, but just assumed I wouldn't like it given that it was about teenage boys and their minds, but I found myself laughing heartily at lots of the humour.

- During a casual conversation, he said something about how he was "never having a daughter" (I promise it made sense in the context of the conversation) and we ended up jokingly discussing never having kids, with him making some joke about never having sex. I know he doesn't have moral objections to premarital coitus, and so the next time we were making out (and more), I brought it up jokingly, along the lines of "sooo, you're never having sex, huh?". His response? "Of course not" (as in of course that's not true).

- Very recently, I've taken to wearing an old necklace I found that one of my friends gave me. I only put it on when it makes sense with the neckline of my outfit, but I wore it a bunch during the trip. I take it off before I sleep and put it on most mornings, and sometimes solicited his help with doing so. Even though I'm perfectly capable of doing so myself, I did so because I enjoyed having him there to help (and it's a weirdly intimate moment). Before I left, I saw the necklace on his bedside table and swept it into a drawer so when I 'accidentally' left it there, he wouldn't notice before I had left. I'm not sure why I left it there, perhaps as some kind of reminder.

- While using social media when he was next to me, I pointed out one of my friends' boyfriends who one of my other friends believed was not good-looking enough to be dating my friend. I do think this friend of mine is very pretty, but had no strong views on the matter. Still, I was taken aback when he said that they 'seemed equal' and it wasn't that surprising that the two of them were dating, since he seemed quite strong on the matter.

- I showed him the video that had made me realize I liked him, telling him after that this was the case. He seemed shocked that I had associated this with him, telling me it made no sense. I told him it somehow brought home the fact that I was acting ridiculous, but he didn't seem convinced.

- He was continually offering me different types of food and bringing me food and trying to make sure that I was eating. Perhaps he thought that I didn't eat very much? This is not true, though my appetite did seem diminished during the trip. I think he was also partially influenced by my mother doing the same for him, since once when I rejected food he said my parents were going to think that he starved me (and also that he tired me out, given how exhausted I seemed during the trip). Or maybe he just cares.

- I joked about the host family's pet dog liking me more than it liked him. It definitely liked me, given my propensity to pet it enthusiastically every time I saw it, and demonstrated this liking by always coming to greet me and presenting parts of itself (butt, back, head mostly) to my hands for me to pet. He said this was nonsense, but I stood by it and teased him about it every time the dog did so.

- At dinner with his host family, we were discussing some country (Mauritius I believe), and he got a little smirk and asked me what the capital was - this was an old joke between us. I couldn't remember, although something came to mind. I said nothing, and he grinned and responded "Port Louis" with this adorably smug attitude, which I shrugged off.

- Some morning when we were sitting around watching TV or something, I was feeling really warm as a result of his (incredibly thin but long-sleeved) shirt I was wearing, being under the blankets, and sitting right next to him. Despite kicking off the blanket, I was still very warm. I can't remember if this was his suggestion or mine, but the idea of taking off my shirt got jokingly thrown out, and I considered it seriously and then forgot about it. He brought it up a very short while later, letting me know that I shouldn't feel uncomfortable about taking it off if I was warm and that he "wasn't going to stare or anything". I laughed at this, explaining that since he'd seen it all anyway, why would I now feel self-conscious? He shrugged it off, explaining that he just didn't want me to feel uncomfortable and I smiled and took it off casually.

- A note on that shirt: I didn't realize this entirely, but my animal print bra showed very clearly through it, and I wore it to breakfast with his family. They weren't quite there and I did have a cardigan, but when I asked him later if he had been able to see my bra through the shirt all morning, he responded "Yeaaahhh". I could only respond with a half-sarcastic, half-embarrassed "Great".

- Through the trip, I expressed the desire to see him with his glasses on – he knew I found him really attractive in them, and I detailed during our first relationship talk at my house why this was the case. It added an intellectual aspect to his good looks, and I found them irresistible for some reason. He steadfastly refused, claiming that he hated his spectacles and found them inconvenient. I continued to remind him at intervals jokingly, in the half-hope that he would relent at some point, but he did not.

- After writing some of these posts about the trip, I'm a little bit anxious about the state of our relationship. I know it can't always be perfect, but perhaps I'm just missing or trying to ignore warning signs? We haven't been talking much after I left, and perhaps I'm just more sensitive to his initiation of conversation but he seems less inclined towards it than usual. I don't want to have to try and convince him that I'm not crazy or have him be looking for this to emerge, nor do I want to stop being myself. Nor do I want a relationship that brings me more anxiety than happiness. Of course, I also don't want to act crazy. Currently, I'm of the mindset that it would be relatively easy to call it off if it's not going to be good - I don't know how realistic this is. Perhaps a good talk with a get-a-grip friend is in order. I also need to just wait and see how things go, it's been only a few days.

One more time

Inside the airport, we headed towards our hall and gate, and at some point I re-commandeered my suitcase, deciding I shouldn't make him hold my things. After showing my boarding pass before security, I promptly used the suitcase to knock over one of the crowd control stanchion posts (I Googled to find out what those were called). Both him and the guard laughed as I blushed, and he set it back up for me.

We were in separate lines, and I was a little startled to not find him behind me, and more nervous when the guard took my bag aside. Summoning up my shaky grasp of the native language, I managed to nod my way through a conversation where she discovered my food but not my lotion. She smiled a little but let me keep the food, and I found him waiting after I managed to tug the suitcase closed. I boasted a little about my language, to which he responded that all he saw was me grimacing and shrugging at the lady in apparent confusion.

As we were walking to the gate, I was stricken as I realized I didn't have a single thing to give his host family, with whom he was staying. He protested that it was unnecessary, and seemed a little bit horrified that he hadn't gotten my family anything. I ignored him as he stood in the airport store protesting, merely pressing my face against his until he kissed my cheek, and then feeling ridiculously happy about it. However, I remained stubborn as ever and bought a large slab of chocolate, and later took some bars my parents had given him, in order to present them with a slight assortment. Felt slightly bad about taking his chocolate, but it seemed the easiest way.

As we waited for the gate to open, we couldn't find two seats next to each other, so he found a corner and sat on the floor. Slightly embarrassed, I refused to sit down next to him, but we had to go stand in line for the gate almost instantly anyway. In line, he mostly read, while I leaned on him gently and made light conversation. I mentioned that I might change clothes on the plane since it was warmer than I thought, and he commented on the large size of my suitcase given the short duration of the trip. I joked that he might not recognize me in different clothes, and he sarcastically responded that he might mix me up with another person. I immediately pointed out three other people of my ethnicity on the flight, and he responded that he would take them home and drink wine with them. Very slightly offended, I said I would find someone with similar hair to his and go home with them.

Our seats on the flight weren't together, but I didn't comment on it or suggest asking someone to switch since he didn't. He did offer to take charge of my suitcase for the flight, and I decided this was easier than trying to lift it myself. So I went ahead to my seat and sat next to an old man who mostly read and smiled genially at me a few times. I hadn't thought ahead enough to bring a book, and he refused to give me his (even though I hadn't directly asked), which I gently mocked him for since he had music as well. I slept through most of the journey, though I remained relatively wakeful and bored for the last twenty minutes or so. I glanced ahead a couple of times, catching a glimpse of his hair and noting that he seemed to be asleep.

The gorgeous weather continued on landing, as I stepped out into sunlight and a warm wind. I was one of the last people to exit the plane, and found him standing at the base with my bag, ready with a joke about how he almost walked off with the other girls that looked like me. I noted rich red flowers on some bushes near the tarmac, some of which had been crushed by footsteps.

Exiting the airport didn't take very long with no immigration formalities or baggage to wait for, so we just walked out. I had claimed my bag again (as well as his hand) by this point. The bus we had to get was ready to board, so we joined the rush of people waiting to enter. I handed him my bag so that I could get money out, but he mentioned he had a ticket. Confused, I continued to try and find money for my ticket, when he clarified that he had already bought one for me as well.

Somewhat awkwardly I thanked him as I put my wallet away, quite pleased that he'd thought far enough ahead about me. As I looked at him standing there squinting in the sun, looking quite grumpy and sleepy after the flight, I was seized by the sudden urge to kiss him, and so I stood on the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. After I did that, I noticed a little smile emerge on his face and stay there at least as I kept glancing at him, which just about melted my heart. (My roommate teared up as I told her this story, surprising both of us a little and embarrassing her a bunch).

As one of the last people to board the bus, it was quite crowded, and I urged him to move back to make room for the last couple of people boarding. He refused beyond a point, and offered that I move back if I wanted to. Taking his somewhat sarcastic suggestion seriously because I felt the agony of offending strangers that I always have, I moved past him to the end of the bus. I sat facing two strange men who may have kept glancing at me, turning back to look at him and feeling guilty about leaving him there but having no way to go back now that other people had blocked the aisle.

It was a brief ride, and it seemed almost the first stop at which I turned around and saw him indicating that we should exit. When I exited, I found him talking to someone and approached cautiously, since my sense had been that he didn't really want people from his programme finding out about us. The boy he was talking to was American and friendly, and I conversed politely with him while F stood slightly awkwardly. I revealed that I had visited him before, and wondered what he thought of our relationship.

F attempted to say goodbye about four times before the conversation was actually done, and he apologized later for his 'awkwardness', since he also succeeded in forgetting the boy's name at the initial introduction (though this wasn't obvious to me).

In the tram, I sat by him and he immediately offered me both books and music, perhaps feeling slightly guilty after I had teased him about sleeping the whole flight but refusing to offer me anything. I listened to his iPod, holding his hand and enjoying the moment. The view from our seat wasn't particularly great, but I craned my neck a little to watch the houses whizzing by. He stared at a window ahead, and I thought he was staring at a loud group of immigrants that were dressed thuggishly (that's an odd phrase) and potentially making remarks about me - though the latter was probably imagined.

After a little while, I felt guilty upon noticing that he wasn't actually doing anything, and gave him back the headphones (which were slipping off my head anyway) and the music. We didn't talk too much, but did our usual thing of relaxed conversation and sitting close. The ride felt quite long, but finally we reached and exited at our stop.

Instead of waiting for the next tram, which we were supposed to change to, I asked him how long the walk was. Upon learning it was only about thirty minutes and noting the gloriousness of the day, I asked if he didn't mind walking. When he responded in the affirmative, we set off.

Because it was my suitcase, I held it most of the time. I only had to drag it, and did my best to ignore the clattering sound it made. We walked mostly along the banks of the river, avoiding the path of cyclists and families, as well as trams. We also went through a 'Japanese' garden and over a narrow metal foot-bridge I had admired from afar. At the middle (which was also the top) of the bridge, I stopped to admire the view on both sides, and also took the opportunity to kiss him briefly in the sunlight. He got the half-embarrassed smile that he always gets when I kiss him unexpectedly in public. About two-thirds of the way through the walk, I decided it was okay to surrender my suitcase to him since I had held it for long enough and was tired.

The rougher path along the bank close to his house was more crowded with dogs and couples and families, and he lifted the bag to avoid the clattering noise. I noticed he was tired, but he didn't accept my offer to take over his backpack (since he treats it like a Linus blanket anyway). The house he stayed at was gorgeous, with a lot of glass windows looking directly on the river. I was nervous, but his family was out walking the dog (he said I would meet the dog soon, noting my slight disappointment that it wasn't home).

We took off our shoes at the entrance, and took my stuff upstairs to his room for the present. He showed me the bathroom (we only shared the toilet itself, since he had a separate shower and sink) and the two rooms of which I would be occupying one. The sun was setting as he showed me around the house, and we stayed mostly in his room where he quickly changed shirts, complaining about the sweatiness of his old shirt (also the one he had worn the first day visiting my family). I changed into a dress too, enjoying the weather. We read for a while and attempted sitting on the patio, but I quickly decided it was too chilly and we moved back upstairs.

I can't remember what we did in the room, maybe just sat on the bed and sorted through chocolate as he reluctantly gave me some to give his family. We may have sat by each other as he browsed social media, pausing to explain how he knew certain people - I really appreciated this since I sometimes feel as though I don't know his friends at all. I wasn't able to focus on my book at all, since I wasn't quite in the mood. The room slowly faded into darkness as the sun set, and at some point the family returned.

We went downstairs to greet them, at which point I realized the chocolate had been left upstairs and we had to go back and get it. Once back downstairs, we entered the kitchen to greet them, hand over chocolate, and make brief and polite conversation. They spoke little to no English, but I discovered that my grasp of their language was better than assumed. I could understand them and only needed F to translate my words, since my speaking was shaky at best.

The family was incredibly friendly - very short even compared to me, full of questions, slim and active, completely belying their age, very accommodating with cuisine, and willing to offer me any room. I chose the one with the larger windows looking onto the river, though I didn't spend a single night there (spoiler alert) and felt vaguely guilty about that. The dog was also adorable, though thoroughly exhausted after the walk and mostly lying on the floor. As warned, he was a little bit grimy and dusty - the sort where petting him for a while meant I smelled of dog and really needed to wash my hands.

Claiming she needed some time to prepare dinner, the mum got busy in the kitchen and we headed upstairs for a little while. I moved my stuff to the room indicated. I think I returned to his bed for reading, though there may also have been some making out since I recall that my dress seemed to be riding up excessively while I was in his lap. This might have been after dinner as well.

Dinner was relatively soon, and we headed downstairs for a bland soup and a traditional dish of that country. I knew my friends would be incredibly jealous, but I wasn't a huge fan of the dish in general. Still, I didn't mention any of that and merely picked out fillings for the food with my broken command of the language. I got some mixture of chocolate and (potentially) lemon, and it was decent enough. They were later shocked by my inability to eat more than one, and the fact that I shared the second one with him instead of getting my own, commenting on my small appetite. A yummy cider was also enjoyed with the meal, which I obviously appreciated.

The meal was slow and full of conversation, and I found myself growing a little bit impatient towards the end in terms of the time it took to say goodbye. He translated for me, although he did somewhat edit my words, which I found a little amusing if nothing else. I offered to help clear up, and he said it was unnecessary, which they managed to catch and comment on, then joking that he would be made to help out. Finally, we bid our goodnights and went back upstairs.

He had previously procured some wine and beer for the evening, after asking me what I liked. I didn't actually particularly enjoy the beer - it was too sweet, and the wine was okay. He seemed disappointed that I didn't like it, and I felt bad and stated (truthfully) that I didn't mind the wine. We settled in for a movie.

It's always hard for us to pick movies because it feels like he's seen so many of the more cerebral ones that I'm interested in watching with him. And I try to watch movies that either both or neither of us have seen, unless it's one that one of us really wants to show the other. It always takes a while to decide upon one, and then finding those which are available to watch legally is another hurdle. To top it all off, I had left the list of movies I wanted to see at home.

Does it feel like I'm using too many commas in this post? My usage is questionable. Fortunately, no one cares. Apart from future me, who might come in to edit.

We chose 'Les Intouchables' - one both of us had heard good things about. He put his arm around me at some point and it's hard to put into words the sense of happiness that gave me. I mentioned this at some point later in the evening, when I was more buzzed, and after that he did the same every time we settled down the same way. I switched between lying curled up against him or just leaning on him, but kept a vague grip on one hand or another at most times.

After, we somehow ended up watching 'Ghostbusters', though I was tipsy enough at this point that I kept needed to take makeout breaks. He grew slightly impatient with these, and I theoretically wanted to finish the movie as well, but my attention to it was dwindling. At some point I found time to change into my sleep shorts, I think he came with me to 'my' room to do so. I believe I took off his shirt, but only with the intention of putting it on myself, which he was appropriately teased by.

Teeth were brushed and I returned to his room for beer and more making out. As usual, I felt the infinitesimal sense of being more enthusiastic about it than he was. I was mostly on top, though I made some remark about my arms getting tired, and he let me know to tell him once they were so that he could take appropriate action.

At some point, I mentioned something about how I liked him very much, in a way that made my heart hurt a little bit. I cringe even as I type these words, but it's true. I sometimes worry that this is love, and I think I wasn't able to restrain myself from telling him that either. I don't think I said it directly, but I asked if he'd ever been in love and he replied in the negative.

(Usual unnecessary warning about readers not going beyond this point)

Our usual routine was followed, with clothes coming off pretty quickly, and starting by focusing on my upper body, but me soon switching the focus to his lower half. While he was taking off my bra, I mentioned something about how my underwear was really cute and he hadn't noticed. He responded that he had noticed and it was orange and white, but he was talking about my bra and I clarified that I meant my underwear. He "wasn't there yet". It was though.

On him, I tried some new things that I'd looked up (focusing on the general area instead of a specific point, using my mouth in different ways, also using my hands, pausing at other points on his body on the way down), and the results were pretty satisfactory in terms of the sounds he was making and words he was saying. He did throw in a few precautionary words about the use of teeth, to which I internally rolled my eyes and (obviously) promised I wouldn't.

He was taking a while, and I was mostly just counting in my head - kind of 'once I get to 30, I'll take a break, okay maybe 45' etc. - and thinking about different things I could do. It still didn't seem like as long as it took the first time, but he apologized a couple of times for taking that long. I kissed him to reassure him and made a joke about how this was the opposite of what he should be apologizing for. The way I was moving meant that I was exerting my muscles and the thought crossed my mind that I might be sore the next day.

Eventually, he grew guilty enough (though I honestly had no major objection, perhaps I should have made this clearer) that he pulled me back up and switched to being mostly on top and taking the lead by moving his hands to my lower half. My underwear remained mostly on, but this didn't stop him from being able to use his hands in ways that made me twist and clutch at him. I was more comfortable with being more directive than before, and I didn't apologize for taking a while. I didn't quite come in the usual way, but I was either about 99% of the way there (so close I didn't care how I reacted and just said "more!" or gave detailed instructions on exactly how to continue) or it was just a milder version.

(Occasionally I have agonizing dilemmas about placing this kind of information online for the world to see, surely there must be some more private way of recording these memories? I can't figure out how to make posts private, or to have them be accessible from any device otherwise. I would truly hate for someone else to be reading this, though)

I believe he thought I did, because he soon slowed and halted the action. I didn't object, it would be a little awkward to do so and I figured it was good enough since he wasn't done either. Some people might consider it unfair that his mouth hadn't been equivalent to where mine had, but I'm honestly a little more afraid of going there and there doesn't seem to be a rush to get there in my opinion. I think we just curled up wrapped around each other and went to sleep after.


Waking before him as per usual (I think I just don't sleep as well around him), I tossed and turned for a while before ultimately deciding to read instead. My mind was unable to focus too much once again, and I was relieved when his alarm went off. He headed for a shower while I changed into slightly more appropriate clothes to go downstairs in (longer pants, my own shirt) and brushed my teeth.

When downstairs, it was mostly just the two of us. He immediately set to work getting breakfast - toasting things, heating up food, offering me things left and right - while I stood or sat mostly dazed and sleepy. I did accept some toasted bread, but I just wasn't particularly hungry. Meanwhile he devoured some of the food from last night (but with new fillings), heated coffee, and a bunch of bread.

Post breakfast, we returned upstairs and he continued to offer me food (mostly yoghurt), which I continued to reject. I changed quickly back into his shirt and my shorts - far more comfortable. After brushing his teeth, he lingered on his computer for a while as I read.

He wrote down the computer password for me - given my trust issues, this was a little surprising, and then left it for me. I spent most of the morning lounging - I took a nap in the patch of sun that fell on his bed, ate some of the food my mother had packed (questioning whether I should have put it in the fridge as he suggested), drank a bunch of water.

Upon using the bathroom, I discovered that there were signs that my period was imminent. It wasn't quite there, but my muscles all hurt (also potentially from the exertions of the previous night), and meant that he wouldn't be able to go anywhere near the region for a couple of days. Thoroughly disappointed and frustrated, I went for a shower.

Spent some time on the computer, reading very little, and generally lazing around messaging friends on my phone. I started writing a letter for him to find once I had left, and naturally he walked in (around 1 pm) while I was writing it. Caught off guard, I could only stammer something about "Yes, I was taking notes" in response to his question. He looked suspicious/ confused, but left it be.

He had said he would be back around 4:15 pm, so I was a little confused, but apparently he had forgotten that he needed his computer. In a rush, he grabbed it and was ready to run out, when I insisted that he kiss me as he left, he gave a mildly exasperated sigh and ran back from the door to give me a hasty kiss. The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging in the same way.

Apparently the host mom thought I was sick, because she waited outside my door to listen for any type of sound but heard none. This was possibly because I was in his room, but also because reading and napping aren't loud activities. I blamed jetlag and satisfied them.

Naturally, he arrived about half an hour after he said he would in the evening. I mostly expected it, but still remained in that stage of mildly agitated impatience for that half hour. When back, he immediately settled down on his computer and to munch on some bread and cheese.

I got a call very soon after, which ended up being a lady calling from an interview a few weeks back to offer me a job. I took it in 'my' room next door, but the door was open and he presumably heard some of it. My voice sounded excited on the phone and I felt a little lightheaded and surreal after the call was done, but somehow not with that sense of being overjoyed that I might have expected. He had heard some of the call, and I returned to the room with a "Guess what?" as I messaged my parents to let them know.

Naturally he was able to guess correctly, but I felt a sense of deflation since neither of us seemed particularly excited. Even after talking to my parents, who were quite ecstatic, I just didn't feel how I expected to feel. The job was in the city where I wanted to be, meaning good things for us, but I was a little disappointed that he seemed to have little reaction beyond pulling me close for a hug and returning to his computer.

On the bed, I alternated between staring at the ceiling and trying to read. I didn't want the job to be an obligation meaning we had to stay together longer now, and I let him know this, to which he just smiled. I was waiting for him to say something or suggest some sort of plan for the evening, and spent at least half an hour this way. Finally, I grew quite frustrated and asked what he planned to do. He gave a list of a couple of things that he had thought about, as well as when he might do them, but I didn't really respond because I was annoyed that he had barely acknowledged me. When I brought this up, he explained that he thought I had been asleep and that he needed some time on his computer.

What I explained was that this was totally fine - I needed just to be included in his plans somehow with him informing me when he needed his own time so I could be prepared for when we were spending time together. He didn't quite seem to understand, thinking that I was upset that he was spending time on his computer. There was a relatively pregnant pause for a while, and then I called him to come lie next to me, which was essentially what I had been waiting for.

After cuddling up, I asked him why he thought I was upset. He responded that it was spending time on the computer. I clarified with what I wrote above, and he seemed to understand a little bit more. More satisfied, I resumed cuddling and we began talking about plans for the next day. After that, he did actually let me know when he planned to be on his computer for a while and as promised I didn't have any objections.

We lay in bed for a while, and he might have confessed tentatively that he would like to nap for a while. I had no objection to that, and so we did so. I think I just read instead of sleeping, and woke him about 45 minutes later.

Shortly after, we headed out for a stroll around the area. When we were a little bit away from his house, I took his hand and we walked and talked. I got the sense that once we left the house, things just seemed better. I asked about the romantic entanglements that had said they never wanted to talk to him again, and he said that he was talking to at least two of them again. I was a little taken aback that he hadn't mentioned it, but he talked about it freely enough. I knew that he was talking to his actual ex-girlfriend again, because I had somewhat accidentally read a note on his computer that was an email to her (and contained something about a second chance at happiness that I fondly hoped might be me). It vaguely bothered me that he hadn't mentioned it, but not excessively so.

We walked up and down the banks of the river, along various sides and stopping at the grocery store that I had expressed a desire to visit. After strolling along all the aisles, we chose some types of beer to take home, as well as some juice and green tea. I enjoyed looking around, but couldn't think of anything to eat that wasn't 'instant', and felt no urge to buy anything.

I paid for the drinks, feeling guilty that he had been paying for most things so far. I'm just not the type of person to be comfortable with that. He didn't protest too much, probably familiar with my stubbornness. As we left, he mentioned a story about how the cashier lady had taken an inordinate of time to count his coins earlier that day, and he felt bad because of the evening rush.

The beers went in the fridge after walking home, though we were slowed due to avoiding the niece of the family, who had the room next to him and the bathroom that I had been using and had returned from an internship in the capital. I never actually saw her because I avoided doing so and she didn't have her meals with the family, but often heard her (and hoped she didn't hear me at night).

Dinner was salad and more cucumber salad, and then a pizza of some sort. As usual, I wasn't expecting the main course and was unable to finish about one-fourth of it, feeling terribly guilty and to their astonishment about my tiny appetite. The mum pooh-poohed my concerns, saying the dog would be happy to have it, and was characteristically nice during the meal as well. I was asked many questions about my family, my religion, my origins, my future plans - but I appreciated the effort to get to know me better. I was only slightly awkward about some of the questions, which involved asking about the details of my religious beliefs (which F didn't really know about), and the type of wedding I planned to have. I even made better friends with the dog, who kept my feet warm during the meal by laying on them.

I felt the usual impatience around the end of the meal with the slow goodbyes, though this was probably rude of me given their kindness. Still, I didn't show it. After dinner, we settled on watching 'Zodiac', which was incredibly unnecessarily long and not even very interesting in itself. His arm was around me and we did cuddle a little, which helped.

While cuddling after the movie, we were talking, and I asked about the girl he hooked up with last spring. The whole thing still kind of bothered me, since I've always felt like I'm basically the same kind of situation in terms of being some sort of rebound from the girl that he was really crazy about and was his best friend. The only difference is maybe that I pursued it more or was luckier in terms of timing. Especially since they were still talking in August when we first started becoming something.

My question was about how exactly it ended and why she never wanted to speak to him again, and what exactly they were - from what I knew they hooked up and also talked a lot. He said that wasn't a fair characterization, they were also good friends. As you can imagine, that didn't really reassure me. They hooked up and were supposed to discuss the state of their relationship (define it) before he left town at the end of the summer, but he kept postponing their meeting because he was saying goodbye to a best friend, and she ended up taking a flight she wasn't supposed to (the details were confusing) and that was the last time they saw each other before he left.

Understandably (in my opinion), she was angry, and less understandably, she never wanted to talk to him again. Still, as previously mentioned, they were now talking again as friends. I ultimately asked what was really bothering me, which was whether this was just the same sort of thing to him. All he said was "No, I think it's different". I think he sensed that I wasn't completely satisfied by this answer, but he also put his arm around me slightly tentatively. I didn't really have anything more to say, and as I had been driving the conversation with my questions, we were soon asleep. It took me a little longer to fall asleep because I tossed and turned for a while.

The sense had been building during the trip that I was the one driving this relationship, since it seemed to be me that always brought up these kinds of relationship talks, expressed my feelings more, took his hand, was more physically affectionate, and it was more that he was going along with it. He's not the type of person to express his emotions much, sometimes more so under the influence of a couple of drinks, but with him it's more about actions and subtler cues, which nothing about my life or family history have prepared me to interpret. And it's scary being vulnerable and feeling like you care more.


He had all of the next day off. For the first time, I had trouble waking up and felt as though I could sleep more. He told me I could (not that I needed permission), but I wanted to have breakfast with him. I was still somewhat out of sorts since my muscles hurt more and I just felt vaguely bloated and emotional (claaaassic PMS). His back hurt when he got up - I felt kind of guilty because it might be due to my occupation of the bed - so I rubbed at it lightly as he sat up in bed. He got most of my breakfast as usual, while I kind of just sat around appreciating it.

Showering was a relatively leisurely process after breakfast, I took the time to wash and condition despite his warning about how his family didn't like him taking longer showers. I did try to turn off the water at intervals. Meanwhile, he spent time on his computer and reading, and we basically just took our time and gave each other space.

While I was in the shower, he looked up timing and details for the attractions we had planned for the day/ in mind in general, and came up with a plan that I agreed with. We wanted to visit the modern art exhibit/ museum and then watch a discounted movie, and visit a museum about an author the next day.

This meant we had an hour or so before we had to leave, and he settled on napping for a chunk of the time. We also talked for a while before he fell asleep about a couple of things that had been somewhat on my mind. I brought up whether we could be friends if things didn't work out (also linking in my mind to him talking to his ex again), and he said in his mind once he had tried something with someone and it didn't work, he didn't revisit those thoughts like I thought I might. I worry more about him not telling me things than I do about him doing something actually worrying like cheating or something like that.

I brought up my job and what this might mean for our future, and he suggested we just take it a little at a time - surprisingly acceptable and yet something I hadn't even considered. Satisfied with the conversation, I finally let him nap for a while as I read (and was also finally able to focus on it).

Waking him up nearly an hour later wasn't as hard as it usually is because he realized we didn't have much time before we were supposed to leave. The day was gorgeous, cool but sunny.

That day, we walked everywhere - from home to the art place, from there to the movie, etc. I was kind of dragging by the end of the day but it wasn't too bad given the sun and the hand I had to hold. The alcohol in the evening definitely helped distract me.

Getting back to the story, we headed out and walked all the way to the museum. I had heard him say the walk was 10-15 minutes, and found a while later on asking that it was more like 40 minutes. He made some comment about how I was walking very slowly, and I explained that I was tired but not too clearly, since I hate complaining. I discovered he hadn't told me about some protests that had occurred there a few weeks ago, even though the residue from them was apparent even now.

When we got there, he bought the tickets. I felt a little guilty about him buying, but figured I would get the next ones. We wandered around a little side room for a short while mostly separately, as I tend to do in museums - look at things at my own pace and go in no particular order. I finished a little before him and was looking at this time-lapse of how the carousel was built, which he was looking at later. I noticed how the tide level in the background - and thus the level of the boats - kept changing, and was charmed to note he'd seen the same insignificant detail when he brought it up unsolicited.

There were a lot of demonstrations of exhibits going on, and I got the sense of not being involved or interrupting on some student group touring. Somehow there wasn't much to see, so I wandered around staring at various things, not really inclined to translate the exhibit information, and staying relatively close to him. There was a warm tropical area and somehow I managed to step in this slushy pink thing on the ground outside the exit, reacting only with a slightly disgusted "Of course".

Pausing to listen to one group of students, we watched a demonstration where the boy seemed to not grasp the simple principle of how to operate the machine particularly well, though I smiled to watch him and he seemed to glance at me a couple of times. It was hard to read whether he was bored or content to listen to the group because he seemed bored at first and then intent when I wanted to walk away. He was accommodating as ever though, saying it was fine despite my questions about staying if he wanted.

There wasn't very much to see in the other half of the place, though it was less crowded. We walked among the paths, stopped at a screening area where I sat on the bench and leaned on him (there was also a family seemingly sprawled and sleeping there). I discovered he'd been here before, on a day where they were giving out free lunches and it was crowded.

One of the last things we saw was this outdoor pathway - kind of modelled after a tree branch and winding and weirdly sloped in parts. I was a little afraid I would fall, but I enjoyed traversing it in the sunlight. At the highest point I turned around to face him in the sunlight, and pulled at his hood as he was turning around to go back down.

It took him a second or so to understand my intention, but I enjoyed our brief kiss, and he smiled as we separated and said "How French of you". I told him there was no one around and that it was very American of him to be so conscious.

We exited shortly after and once again caught a glimpse of the Indian store that had intrigued me. It turned out to be a furniture shop of kitschy Asian knick-knacks and I decided not to go in. Our plan had been to watch a movie after, and it seemed like we might still have time to make the show. There was running banter about the fact that he remembered the time as being 3:15, while I was sure it was 3:30 pm. When we got to the theatre and I was right, he smiled knowingly and said they must have changed the time, to which I just laughed.

He bought the tickets, partly because he generally lead the communication in terms of speaking the language. I felt a little guilty and tried to bring out my wallet, but the note I had was too big to change and he brushed it off. We didn't end up buying any snacks though I was vaguely tempted, and found the theatre it was being screened in after a little time wandering. We had good seats about three rows from the back and right in the centre, since the theatre was mostly empty when we entered.

It slowly filled up as we waited for the movie, becoming about 3/4ths full. There were about 15 minutes before the movie started and we didn't talk much, though I did take his hand. It was a little awkward finding an angle where my arm didn't feel twisted, since he has such long arms, but I managed it. I discovered he doesn't like trailers, but I love them.

Until the movie started, I was still vaguely anxious that the audio would not be in English and would be dubbed. I almost held my breath until I heard the first line, after which I relaxed. I wasn't too self-conscious about watching the movie and my reactions, though I did sometimes glance at him or grow aware when he laughed (which was not especially often). I did enjoy the film, though it was surprisingly gory and I squeezed his hand harder at these moments. The filmmaker had been one we initially bonded over, and linked to the perfect birthday/ Christmas present I had given him, so it was a perfect movie to watch together. He mentioned he had also wanted to see a movie in cinemas, so things worked out well for everyone.

After, we sat for a little while waiting for the couples on either side of us to get up so that we could exit. They took their own sweet time, and I looked at him and we kissed and smiled at each other after, no words were needed. He mentioned that the mum in his family wasn't feeling well, so we would have to get dinner out or could grab food at the grocery store, and I said I would like to eat out.

We almost went into the bathrooms on our quest to find our way out of the building, but eventually made it and began walking. There was a brief discussion about cuisines, and we decided on some local fare, where he promised to take me to a place he knew and liked. It was still only 5:30 pm though, so he led us to a bar where they served this beer that I had heard of and mentioned wanting to try earlier that day while passing another bar.

The place was mostly deserted at that time, and we walked past the groups of teens near the entrance and I led us to an empty back corner. We sat there, and he pulled the chair so he was sitting by me instead of opposite me at the square table. He got the round of beer, and it was delicious. He described it as being good in a way that wasn't exceptional, but where you couldn't find anything wrong with it, which I smiled to myself and thought was a way I might describe the way I feel around him (though there are exhilarating moments with him).

Having not eaten anything since a brief snack and yoghurt before we left, I felt like I began feeling the alcohol even part of the way through the first beer. I decided to get another despite it not being the best idea, but it was good (he got up to get the second round also). We talked as we drank, and our hands found each other across the table on occasion. The conversation was relaxing but not about nothing, as he told me some stories about his friends and we chatted in general.

When no one was looking - the bartender was on the other side and there was no one else there - I pulled him in for a kiss two or three times. I remembered an occasion just before I left college when I had been drinking and suddenly seized with the intense urge to kiss him, and it was nice to have him there this time. He was a little embarrassed about 'PDA' but didn't protest too much, especially when I pointed out there was literally no one else there.

Before we left, he used the bathroom and then I realized I should probably do the same. I walked and saw a sign that I thought meant bathroom, walking into the urinal area before I noticed what I was doing (I was somewhat tipsy at the time). With an exclamation, I exited hastily and rushed back to the table where I sat with my face in my hands. The man walked out a few minutes later and made awkward eye contact once again as I was telling the story to a laughing F with obvious shame. I did make some offhand remark on how I'd seen a strange penis and he questioned how this was possible but I explained how it was (even though this wasn't actually the case, I tell pointless lies sometimes).

I was tipsy enough that I made him finish some of my second beer, and don't remember much of the walk towards food. I do remember insisting on cider the moment we sat down, but realizing when it arrived that I couldn't have any and leaving it to him to finish almost the entire thing. I was a little worried that I felt dizzy, and tried to focus intensely on regaining control and sobering up, with little result. Time and not drinking more helped. As a consequence, I was more sober when we left the restaurant, and remained in a happy place as we walked home.

The food was delicious, though I couldn't finish the last 1/4th of my dish, and passed it to him. I did insist on paying for the meal, though he provided change to top it off. I generally passed him my coins since I didn't like change weighing me down, sometimes slipping them directly into his pocket. He protested slightly since this added up, but I didn't mind since he paid for me a bunch anyway.

On the way back, he decided he needed to use the bathroom and I think stated some desire to do so in a non-bathroom setting. There was a park of sorts where we paused on our way back, and he told me to stay right there and walked off. I remained there at first, but saw a group of three men walking towards me and realized I was totally alone, and began walking ahead (towards them) to make it seem as though I was walking with purpose.

Once they had passed, I decided to stand in a more concealed corner, from where I would be able to see if he walked back to where I had been, but from where less people could see me. This was partly also because of a desire to make him worry a little about where I was. I waited there for a while and saw no sign of him, and began actually worrying for a second about whether I had missed him leaving. I walked half-towards where I had been and then turned back to my spot. A minute or so later, I went to look for him again and this time saw him standing there and walked towards him until he recognized me and we met.

He seemed quite worried and reproached me for not having waited where I said I would. When I recounted the story of approaching men, he just reproached me again, and it was clear that he'd been concerned when he mentioned that he had stood (funnily enough, parallel to where I had been waiting) looking and hadn't seen me and had "thought for a minute...".

Apologetic statements were made on both sides as well as reproachful defences, and I can't remember exactly who kissed whom, but he pulled me close and kissed me soundly for longer than usual and despite people walking by. I was touched by this and felt remorseful for making him worry.

A little further ahead, I discovered I really needed to use the loo and ignored his brilliant suggestions of using the great outdoors. We stopped at a shop and I rushed to the bathroom as he bought something. After I was done, I discovered him standing sipping a beer, and he commented on how nice the storeowner was (though I saw no evidence of this), so we both smiled at him as we left.

We talked and laughed and kissed the rest of the walk home, particularly when we were on the banks of the river near his house. He didn't quite understand why I couldn't just wait until we were home, but I sat him down on a bench and we kissed for a while before he insisted we head home.

During the course of the evening, I had brought up semi-jokingly how it seemed that he was always reluctant to kiss me and it was me tending to make the first move. There was a core of real feeling behind this and so perhaps it wasn't the best joke to make at intervals during the evening. On this evening, though, it remained mostly as a joke, and he defended himself saying just because he didn't want to "kiss every ten minutes" or say things all the time, I accused him.

The dog was awake and got up to greet me once we were home. I began petting it enthusiastically as ever, as the father of the family came outside to say hi. As I was kneeling down to pet the dog, it knocked a little too enthusiastically into me and stood partly over me as I continued petting it, though I found I was now unable to get up. I interrupted his conversation a little later with a plea for help, which both of them laughed at initially in a little disbelief, and he somewhat helped distract it so I could get up.

I didn't completely rise because I was seized with a rush of affection for it and continued petting it, allowing for the same situation to occur again. He helped out again although the dog was unwilling to move, so the host father called it over and we bid our farewells and went upstairs.

My desire to make out with him hadn't changed, and we did so for a while on his bed during the 10 minutes when I was waiting for my parents to be ready to Skype. I sat in the middle of the bed and he lay on his side reading while I Skyped my parents in a happy drunken haze, poking him at intervals because I knew he couldn't respond. He didn't actually say hi though my parents knew he was near, and it was a very brief session.

Somehow we ended up playing Flash games on his computer after (this was his idea). I had never played before and was launched into them with little instruction and was playing with my left hand and keys I wasn't used to. He did offer to switch, but I decided it was too much effort. Consequently, I wasn't very good at the games, and wasn't helped by the fact that despite being on the same team, he tried to kill or stun me for entertainment during the game.

This did bring out a cockier side of him, as he teased me for not being good and stunned me just to annoy me (grinning adorably after he did so) and smirked at me after I'd lost my lives and told me he'd "got this" or "I'll take care of it". I can't say I didn't like it. We paused because he'd think I was going to smack him and I'd kiss him enthusiastically instead (though I definitely also smacked him).

As I was changing into his shirt for the night (I'd already swapped my jeans for shorts), I was wearing a shirt with the kind of buttons that press and snap into place. Taking it off is therefore enjoyable since you just rip it open, as I did half-facing away. He chuckled, but didn't respond to my "What?".

We watched another episode of this show he'd introduced me to afterward, which I found hilarious for some reason. We were lying on our sides with him behind me and the computer in front of me, and I would half-turn back to cringe against him at particular moments (such as when the protagonists were puking all over the place), turning entirely to cuddle against him at the end when the scene was particularly disgusting. I also turned to kiss him, but would turn back to focus on the episode.

As we had been leading up to, we put away the computer and made out wholeheartedly after the episode was done. He was heading below the waist, but I stopped him before he totally got there, and told him it would be 'easier' if we didn't do that. There was a little bit of an awkward pause and I explained that I thought I was about to get my period, and I didn't want him down there. He acquiesced without protest, though he did continue taking my shirt off and doing things to my neck and upper body that made me twist and make sounds that I (mostly hopelessly) tried to restrain out of worry the girl next door would hear.

When I communicated these concerns, he just said it was fine, and I didn't worry too much. We paused at some point in the dark and lay looking at each other, and I think I had asked why we had stopped. He mentioned how since I told him he couldn't go down there (I again explained my reason and that it was for his sake and he said it was fine), there wasn't much else he could do. Laughingly I said that this therefore worked out well for him, which he didn't disagree with. He did say he was fine with stopping if I wanted to, but obviously I didn't.

(Warning)

I went to work on him, trying the new things I'd noticed worked last time but more and harder and faster, this time determined to have him finish. It worked spectacularly, as he got there faster than ever before, and he talked about how good it felt more often, even gripping at me tightly when he was near, especially my hair just before he was about to. I didn't mind at all.

After, I was about to kiss him but then asked for water first, which he got for me. I also told him he could clean up if needed, but that I thought I got all of it. Sex has a distinct smell, which lingered a little but wasn't bad. I remember asking something about why 'it' wasn't getting smaller, to which he responded that it would and takes a while.

During the night, I dreamt that we were having a conversation, and when I woke up facing him, tried to continue it by asking "But why do they do it?" (I was talking about some church protesting). The moment I spoke aloud, I realized I had been dreaming. He was very confused, though I repeated the words. When I explained, he was amused and we returned to sleep soon. I did enjoy the fact that he was right there and I could have actually continued the conversation after dreaming about speaking with him.



He had early class and I was up before him as usual, which just meant I tossed around in bed till his alarm went off. We headed for breakfast as usual after he showered and I tried not to stare as he got dressed. I lazed around in the morning and hadn't showered by the time he came back from class.

I went downstairs to use the bathroom since the one upstairs had run out of necessary supplies (this post is so stuffed with euphemisms). To conceal the amount of time I spent in there (even though I knew he'd just been there), I emerged and remained downstairs to talk to the host mother in broken [language], since I was worried about her. I found that she'd had a stomach bug, and indeed had to end the conversation to rush to throw up. Fortunately she was feeling somewhat better and planned to visit the doctor.

Showering was pretty quick, and he suggested we leave for the day and I wait in town while he had his class so I wouldn't waste time going back and forth. I wasn't particularly inclined to leave, but didn't mind.

Taking a chance on the weather, I wore a colourful sundress I had brought with me. It did actually cooperate, though I felt chilly in the shade and had to keep insisting that we walk on the sunny side of the street. With little sighs of protest and claims about my being difficult, he agreed as usual.

We headed towards a park where I wanted to take pictures of the goats at the petting zoo (something I had forgotten to do last time). I got a delightful picture of him looking grumpy next to a goat, which I absolutely love. I also got briefly trapped in the goat enclosure and he had to get food to distract them - he actually didn't succeed in working the machine, but distracted them enough to allow me to exit without being headbutted by a goat or letting it out. We sat for a while on a somewhat shielded bench in the sun, after walking around in the park filled with other people enjoying the weather (hand-in-hand as ever).

While at the park, I felt the urge to talk to him instead of just sitting and reading. I couldn't focus on the book at all, but somehow was completely blank on topics of conversation to talk about with him. so when he said he was fine with talking though would prefer to read and I couldn't come up with anything, I ended up just staring at him or staring into space some of the time. He said he was bored just looking at me. I'm not sure why I was so blank, I was a little worried that we seemed to have run out of things to talk about, but I suppose I was putting too much pressure on myself and he wasn't inclined to conversation anyway.

We walked through side streets in the sun later, past some high school students and in mostly deserted paths. Conversation was about jobs, how degrees could prepare us for them, and how I didn't want him to be stressed next year since the last year could be particularly stressful. He mentioned that he knew he would be stressed, but I didn't have anything much to offer beyond a squeeze of the hand.

F found me a bench in a sunny garden area behind a library, after I rejected sitting in a cafe or a restaurant around other people that long. It was a nice area, though there was a particularly obnoxious couple there who kept swatting at each other and kissing and lying on each other's laps feeding each other. That sounds relatively harmless, but it was a lot more obnoxious and immature in person. Some official from his programme was also there, although she didn't see him.

The day involved lots of walking, and I was just out of sorts and generally somehow exhausted. This was explained later in the day when I realized I'd (definitively) gotten my period, and just meant I was mentally and physically tired and more emotional than usual. I somehow felt like we had nothing to talk about (perhaps because we were just spending our days wrapped up in each other), worried about that, wondering if he would show any affection towards me and alternating between wondering why he wasn't taking my hand and deciding to stop being silly and just take his hand. So I didn't end up saying much, and he noticed my disquiet and asked if everything was fine. I said yes, because I didn't know what else to say, but later he again said that if something was wrong then I should talk to him about it. I just leaned in close and smiled a little and nuzzled against him - I couldn't explain it even to myself and thus couldn't talk about it.

I mentioned at some point before that I felt like we weren't talking or making the most of our time, and he asked me if I wanted to be like the couple next to us, to which my response was a visceral "No!" before I even had time to think about it. Things felt a little awkward and unresolved though. He left for class and put his arm around me and kissed me before he did, and I was happy about that.

Reading in the garden in the sunlight was pleasant, though my back still hurt and I felt somewhat out of sorts. I managed to lie down, and felt infinitely better while doing so. Funnily enough, three other people in the garden also lay down after I did so. The book was absorbing and I sped through it, almost done and not even thinking too much about when he would return, though I did check my watch a lot more times than usual.

For once, he returned a little before I expected him to, and I didn't notice him until I looked up and saw him quite close to me. He greeted me and sat close to me. I put away the book and the jacket (both of which I had been storing for most of the day in his backpack after he offered) and headed off with him.

Weariness overwhelmed me as we walked towards the museum, and I still didn't have much to say. I turned over in my head whether I should take his hand or not based on his lack of affection for me (in my mind at least), and alternated between waiting for him to take mine (he did do this a couple of times) or just sighing at my ridiculousness and taking his. I got quite emotional about this in my head, in despair when he didn't.

He led us in the wrong direction for about five or six minutes until we turned back and discovered he had taken the wrong path on diverging. I didn't even have the energy to mock him as we continued, particularly as he had earlier said we were in a part of town he had never been to. He withdrew money from an ATM on the way while I stood near him but looked away somewhat awkwardly. The rest of the way was largely uphill, though we did spot an odd urban garden (with a tent in the corner) on the way up, as well as a vantage point with a view of the city.

Here we paused as I gazed at the city and he pointed out various areas I hadn't been to. He stood next to me and put his arm around me (across my back and still against the wall on the other side of me) as we both leaned against the stomach-height (for me) stone wall ahead of us. I leaned into him a little too.

At the museum, there was construction on the door and we couldn't figure out how to enter at first. Merely smiling at the workers was enough, and they made way for us. It was a tiny museum and the lady inexplicably asked us for our nationalities as she gave us our tickets - I assume it was for their records.

It was interesting enough - there was a lot of information there, but I didn't care enough to translate each of the signs, and merely looking at them is quicker and less engaging for me. So I made my way through quite quickly, sometimes taking care to go into rooms where he couldn't see me, and somewhat subconsciously avoiding being in the same room as him for too long. There were a lot of comfy chairs scattered through it, a quality I much appreciated. Indeed, I sat in the first one, right by the entrance and leaned into him for long enough that he got impatient with the movie in front of us and moved us along.

There weren't many other people there and we remained largely alone, apart from a mother and adult son in the last room. I noted how I felt uncomfortable invading the 'space' of the son even to the extent of looking at the same exhibit while he was, in contrast to with F, where it was more natural. The last room in the basement had a settee where I sat, thinking we were done, not knowing there was a floor above the one we had entered on. He joined me and we sat for a little and I snuggled against him with his arm around me. We kissed lightly and I mustered the will to get up, after explaining again that I was just tired.

The last room had a guestbook, which I pretended not to notice him signing (he wrote both our names, the name of our college, and its motto). There was a map where you could press buttons to light up various parts, and I noticed him trying to do all at once and did the rest as we smiled at each other.

(There's something to say for the smile you share with another person, a smile of affection and understanding and reassurance and just maybe a little love, something that doesn't need any words or other demonstrations, it's a spontaneous and joyous thing).

After the museum, we stopped this time to look at the little urban garden on the way down, since he was intrigued and wanted to explore. There wasn’t much to see, so we took a few steps in the damp grass and I warned him against approaching the tent. He did go closer, but didn’t get close enough to worry me. Finally we left with him still seeming intrigued.

Thankfully, the tram was there on the way back and we took it part of the way. There wasn't any seating, and he moved in but I didn't follow. He turned to find me not there and was just about to come back to stand by me when I moved towards him. Standing behind me in a way that let me lean on him - as I did, he showed his concern. I can't remember why we got off.

Perhaps he asked if I wanted food, and I responded in the affirmative. Somehow his joking suggestion of McDonald's struck a chord, and so we went there. I tried to pay but of course there was difficulty with the card and he ended up doing so while I was in the bathroom. I was there because I'd definitively gotten my period and despite being prepared, this only meant an increase in the emotionality and discomfort.

We took the food upstairs, where I observed a chatty man who seemed to be looking for excuses to start conversations with strangers and had more napkins than he could possible need. To my mild surprise, I shared some fries with him (only after he had finished the ones I made him get because I knew I wouldn't share much). I felt immediately better after the food, though still not fully restored (especially once we began walking again). After food, there was no way to take the tram home that would be shorter and involve less walking, so we set off on the half-hour walk.

Some of the way through, I recalled that I'd wanted to visit the place where he bought his beer once in a while - a shop dedicated solely to this. Unfortunately it was back where we had just been, but I still mustered up willpower. I couldn't muster up much conversation though, beyond occasional teasing and was walking pretty slowly.

It seems like I'm being overdramatic or exaggerating my tiredness - honestly the activity doesn't explain it. I can only point to a mixture of intensive PMS messing with my emotions, as well as muscular stress from some of the stuff I did with him, combined with an intense physical and mental exhaustion that just made me so weary in and out.

On the way to the cave, I noticed him looking around and asked if he was lost. He admitted he had trouble getting there from a different place as he normally went there after class, but explained that he was looking for a shop he had told me about (right after I finalized the plan to visit him). It had a cutout of George Clooney in the window, and he said he could take a photo of me with it (it referenced a related conversation we'd had and was a very sweet thought). But I was tired and said it was fine.

The shop itself was a little less dark and underground than I had imagined - instead being a relatively minimalist grey and glass shop with bottles of all kinds arranged all around and nothing else. I was a little disappointed that there was no seats in the shop.

Telling him that he could choose whatever he wanted because I was willing to experiment and he knew what I liked, I let him wander around the shop enthusiastically gazing at bottles. I myself glanced around, examining various random brands, but (as always) was overwhelmed by too much choice and entirely unable to make a decision.

The storeowner approached near the end of our visit and asked if we needed any help, and he responded in the affirmative. They fell into a brief discussion as the man suggested various brands and F chose a couple after careful thought. The man went to assist some other people as we stood in line a little away from the counter, and both the people in the store ended up buying before us (the owner took the lady he was helping first since he had her stuff in hand, and we let the other man go before us).

While in line, I let F know that I would be covering this as I leaned against him. He stood in a way such that I could lean on him, one of this little touches typical of him. He seemed a little taken aback and protested, but I insisted that he'd been getting a lot of stuff and it was my treat. Knowing not to protest too much once I had made up my mind, he agreed and thanked me, of course mentioning that there was "no need" and he hadn't gotten anything. He did seem rather happy about it.

Walking home didn't seem as long after that, I also think we took a tram some of the way. There was also a moment where he met someone he recognized and might have let go of my hand at that moment, but it wasn't entirely clear and I decided to attempt not to overthink it.

Dinner was very soon after we got back, and was pretty quiet and with just the mum of the host family. The dog sat closer to his feet, and I was a little jealous since mine were a little chilly. I was still wearing the dress, and was very happy to be repeatedly complimented on the bright 'pretty' colours by her. The straps had been slipping down slightly throughout the day (as F had pointed out once), partly aided by my cardigan also slipping off, so it was nice to receive a compliment.

One of the first courses was a boiled egg salad which I quite enjoyed since the eggs were still a little moist and I like eggs, but I knew he didn't particularly like hard boiled eggs and was amused to see him eating them. The dinner seemed a little quicker than usual and the mother asked some of the same questions that she had asked the previous night about my family and how often I went back to see them, but I responded similarly - through him - without any indication that I noticed this.

There had been onions cooking on the stove in the morning, and I pondered whether onion soup was perhaps on the menu. I discovered at dinner that it was in fact a mix of sautéed vegetables with interesting spices, I quite enjoyed them. He commented that I seemed to be uncharacteristically not fussy about my food, and I replied that I was not rude enough to reject the food that his family was giving me so kindly. In reality, almost none of it was stuff that I actually couldn't stand, even if it wasn't my favourite. I did covertly put some of the more unidentifiable vegetables on his plate and he ate without comment.

We wanted to watch a movie after dinner, and spent at least half an hour trying to pick one, facing the same issues that had plagued us in the past while choosing. Both of us were growing more frustrated, and eventually decided on renting a recent movie, despite him complaining a little about the price. I eventually said we weren't choosing anything else, so we went back to that one even though he didn't seem too happy about the price. When I suggested alternatives, he said "No, now we're watching this" and I got the sense that he wasn't perfectly pleased but it was fine.

I wasn't in the mood to drink given my period and generally feeling bloated and lethargic and vaguely tired and emotional. He seemed disappointed that I didn't seem to like the beers he had chosen (this was only actually the case for one of them), so I clarified that this wasn't true. He didn't entirely seem to believe this, and I took occasional drinks in the spirit of the night and drank a fair amount.

We watched some TV as we talked, but I didn't want to do too much to allow the movie to download (it said it would take hours). I also re-read the offer letter from my job. I think I brought up the issue of him not showing affection again, and then mentioned something about how he only kissed me when he was drinking.

Around midnight, where it was at this point, he said he was too tired to begin watching the movie. Things weren't in a very good mood after our brief argument about the showing affection thing, since he said I seemed to think that because he'd had a few drinks, his emotions were less sincere. He mumbled something relatively sarcastically along these lines, and about how he was going to sleep and hoped I would be happy next year in my job since I was earning good money.

As he went to sleep, I rested on my arm on my side looking at him, and was suddenly overcome with a rush of sadness. This was my last night and I just felt like nothing much had happened and it had been wasted, and the sense of having not talked much in the day just overwhelmed me. I still can't explain what happened next - I did will myself into it a little bit, but I definitely couldn't predict the consequences. At least I've learned a valuable lesson (or two).

This sounds dramatic. I began to cry, silently and trying to conceal my breathing and making it seem like it was normal. As I kept crying, I grew more and more embarrassed and worked harder to conceal it. I hoped very much that he would wake up now that I was crying, but I didn't want to be crying in the first place.

Just when I thought he wouldn't, he awoke with a start. He seemed slightly confused and reached over to me, and then shocked when he realized what was happening. Once I knew he was awake, I didn't have to conceal my breathing or voice any more, and began to cry in earnest. I'm not the type of person who cries very often in real life, so when it does happen, it tends to be a rush of emotions and I cry very bitterly and wholeheartedly and find it difficult to stop.

Naturally, he began to panic a little and reached for me to comfort me, asking what was wrong. I was unable to respond and let him hug me for a little bit with his head on my chest. He was anxious and kept asking what was wrong, mentioning that my heart was beating about a hundred times per minute. My reasons for crying were so stupid and diverse that I didn't want to tell him, and pushed him away soon in a mix of shame and anger about his earlier words.

Still unable to understand me, he grew angry at my continuing incomprehensibility - both verbally and emotionally, and pressed me further to find out what was wrong. I heard him swear for the first time, and he followed with something about how he had woken to find me crying in his "goddamn bed" and "didn't recognize the person in front of him".

Stopping was near-impossible for me at this point, especially now that I knew he was angry and no longer trying to comfort me. I tried to pull myself together and explain that my reasons for crying were 'stupid' and I didn't want to be crying and I didn't want him to know, and also that I was upset he was angry. This emerged merely as a teary mess that I thought was relatively audible, but he couldn't understand.

His frustration was growing about not knowing what was happening, and that didn't help me. We stopped at an awkward silence where I wasn't quite done crying, but none of us could say more. I knew he was unhappy about my crying, and decided I needed a moment.

Stepping over him, I went to 'my' room, where I sat on the edge of the bed clutching a pillow to my chest, bent over sobbing into it. I was able to be more silent thanks to the pillow suppressing the sound. I did get a sense I could stop crying and almost managed it, but at this stage in my crying decided it was better emotionally just to let it out, and continued doing so.

A few minutes later, I heard the floorboards creak and he came into the room as hoped. He sat on the bed next to me, clearly tense and angry, and asked me to tell him what was wrong. I gathered myself enough to try and explain that I was sad I was leaving and this was my last night, that I felt stupid about crying and didn't want him to know, that I was upset to see him angry, and that his reaction had contributed to it (later when we were talking I also added the significant reason PMS). This didn't emerge as well as it did here - even so I didn't fully understand it then or now, and crying didn't help.

There was no visible reaction on his part and he still seemed cold. I tried rubbing his back lightly to make him feel better, reflecting on the absurdity of the fact that I seemed to be comforting him. He didn't seem receptive and I stopped quickly.

We ended up going back to his room and lying down. He didn't seem to have much to say, but I needed to talk and know what he thought. He managed to explain basically that it was neither a secret to me or him that he was afraid of commitment and entering relationships due to his bad experiences in the past, and it concerned him that I was 'hysterically crying' just because I was leaving the next day.

My immediate response was in my normal voice and something approximating my normal sarcastic tone about how if I hadn't cried any of the last times he had left, why would I cry this time when I knew I would see him sooner? He had missed most of my point, but I didn't end up pointing this out (if only we could re-do arguments). He agreed he didn't understand that, but said he was confused about the whole thing.

This brought me to enough of a state where I was able to use a calmer voice despite tears still emerging. I pressed the flats of my palms to my eyes in an attempt to push the tears back and was unsuccessful in this, but at least able to communicate. I tried to explain the real reasons I had been crying and that it wasn't just leaving, but it was a jumbled mess of reasons since I didn't really understand - this was also when I added PMS, adding that I hated when people used this as an excuse. He didn't quite understand and neither did I, since none of the reasons seemed particularly satisfactory.

Somehow we ended up coming back to the 'showing affection' thing - I think I brought it up as one of the reasons I was upset, particularly as it was my last night and we seemed to be just falling asleep. He shared that it made him 'feel shitty' when I kept saying he didn't do anything, meaning that I didn't notice the things he did do, and that it seemed to be just because he 'didn't kiss me every ten minutes' or say things all the time.

I turned at this point to lean over him as he lay down, and tried to explain my point of view. My favourite memory of him from the trip was the moment before the bus from the airport, and I had been trying to or did notice the little things, but it was hard to continually feel like the one who cared more. I said some nice things about the things he did and my appreciation for them which defused the tension a little, but didn't come close to reducing it as a whole.

It ended up being a discussion where both of us brought up lots of little issues and kind of just left them out there, trying to address what the other person had brought up but not quite doing so. After this, he said that we'd said some nice things - yet this didn't change the overall point.


 He used the phrase ‘I love you to death’ during our argument as a qualifier (as in “and I love you to death but...”). I chastened him on his use, saying I didn’t think he should be using the word love (see: my previous issues with the ambiguity of our use of the word), and he responded curtly that he knew how he meant it. 

Oddly, my mother thought I was making too big a deal about using the word love romantically, and didn’t seem to see it as different. She cautioned me against thinking too much about it, and said it was fine however he wanted to use it. Perhaps true, but I still think it’s important saying ‘I love you’ the first time in a relationship, and I don’t want to dilute the moment.

Lapse into silence. I ran over my plan for my next actions in my head once, as well as trying to compose the words I wanted to say better. They didn't quite emerge how I planned them, but they did. I got up and pulled out the book in which I had placed the letter I had earlier written him. He probably thought I was going insane, and was incredibly confused when I handed him the book. The letter wasn't evident in the pages, and I pulled it back and flipped through until it fell out, then handing it to him.

He also brought up that he was sorry my last night hadn’t been happy and fun like both of us would have wanted. This was also a qualifier before saying that he couldn’t change that he needed more time to think about it and had no further reaction.

Tentatively he opened it as I faced away, pressing the flats of my palms against my eyes as my tears fell more freely again. I tried to explain that this was more indicative of how I actually felt. He read a line or two, and then asked if I was sure I wanted him to read this now. I responded in the affirmative, though he asked again a line later. "You wrote this for later, are you sure you want me to read this now?" I again said "Yes".

As he read in silence, I pondered over the fact that I still wasn't getting to see his reaction to my words. I didn't look over though. Once he was done, I turned back and tried to explain that just because I had cried didn't mean I was crazy (though he hadn't said this), and it wasn't that I wanted that much from him or had unrealistic ideas about our relationship. I also explained that I knew he cared, and I had written about making the most of our time apart, and that I didn't want something particularly serious.

My words didn't quite seem to reach him in the way I wanted him to, in terms of his reaction. He seemed to absorb them but not particularly react. Characteristically silent, he put aside the letter and we both lay down and were falling asleep again. I asked about talking - I still felt uncomfortable about leaving things with this obvious awkwardness in between us, but he said in a tone of some frustration and tiredness that he simply didn't have any more to say and he needed time to think it over and react.

Chastened and feeling like I was shrinking into myself, I decided to compromise and said "okay" and tried to fall asleep. He put his arm around me and I reciprocated, and after tossing and turning for a while I did fall asleep.


I didn't sleep well at all, waking a couple of times during the night. When he asked me at breakfast though, I responded with a light "Great", hopefully with some traces of irony. His alarm went off in the morning, and he got out of bed and let me know he was heading to breakfast. Not feeling particularly inclined to be demonstrative or make any effort, I said "Okay". He got on his computer for a while, as I lay in his bed and stared at him.

"Aren't you going to go?" I asked. He half-smiled self-consciously. "I was waiting to see if you would come," he said. "Of course." I got out of bed and he headed downstairs as I brushed my teeth and got a little more ready.

Breakfast was more of a silent affair than usual, since I didn't know what to say or how to treat him. It didn't feel right to just pretend everything was normal, and I didn't seem to have anything to say, so I was just the bare minimum. I responded to everything he said, but didn't actually add my own thoughts or seem enthusiastic or drive the conversation as normal. He seemed to be making a little bit of an effort to talk or ask me questions about how I'd liked my book or the way I'd slept or things like that. He also got breakfast as usual. It just didn't feel right to talk normally though, so I just responded and that was that. The host mum briefly entered and greeted me, and I was normal with her.

He left for class quite soon after, and was a half-hour later than expected while getting back as usual. Meanwhile, I showered, packed and wrote a brief note to replace the last one, apologizing for scaring him and saying that I'd still enjoyed the trip.

When he was back, I still felt the same sense of restraint and an unstated obstacle in between us. I couldn't talk to him normally. I'd had a little more time to think about it, and had something to say about me not quite understanding my emotions last night, and that I wanted to move on while not abandoning the little issues that had been brought up.

After he was back and eating bread and cheese as usual, I said something to this effect. He pulled me closer as he sat, explaining that he still didn't really seem to understand much about last night. I said I didn't either. In my mind, it still felt unresolved and he seemed a little distant and there seemed to be this 10% awkwardness between us, where I at least was unable to be my normal self.

Thus I was more quiet and tentative about being affectionate towards him. He looked up the running time of the movie we'd watched and suggested that we watch it. This would leave about 45 minutes between the end of the movie and when I had to go, and I decided this was acceptable.

His arm was around me for the movie, and I quite enjoyed the movie itself as well. A tear or two escaped me at the end, but neither of us commented on it. After, I suggested we play Flash games, which he was a little surprised by.

This was normal and comfortable, and I felt like we were being ourselves again. I did pause to kiss him a couple of times, but felt that I could feel the restraint on his part and pulled back internally. He left the bed at some point for the chair at the desk, and I couldn't help feeling rejected. Once it was time for me to go, I packed and changed (he reminded me that I had to return his shirt and I coolly stated this was my plan) and we headed out.

Before I left, he asked for the photo back that I had been using as a bookmark, and I mentioned it was in the book, trying to hide that I had left him a note in it’s place. He flipped through and said it wasn’t the photo as I tried desperately to distract him. All he did was mildly note that this wasn’t the photo, and presumably realized that it was a note and didn’t try to investigate further. When I later let him know there was a note there, he replied that he had seen it, and nothing further was said.

As we left the house, we held hands a little sooner than usual and I mentioned that I felt bad about not saying goodbye and we turned to look back at the house. I noticed the dog at the glass window/ wall of the living room and paused to smile at it, and the father noticed and came to the window to also wave goodbye, which I enthusiastically returned. I wondered if he'd noticed we'd been holding hands, but figured they'd probably surmised something as to the nature of our relationship.

He accompanied me for the first tram, and gave me detailed instructions as we waited to catch the second (he had class soon after). Perhaps my mother had worried him about my sense of direction. I reassured him that I was capable of making it, and we merely entangled our fingers and didn't say much. I had the sense of wanting to 'fix things' but there wasn't really anything to say.

A man exiting the previous tram caught me glancing at him (I was just curious, he was not attractive according to me) and smiled leeringly at me. Of course after this I couldn't help looking back at him later, which seemed to confirm his suspicions and he continued staring and grinning at me as he walked by. I felt a little disturbed, looked away and moved closer to F, smiling sunnily at him.

When the tram came, I turned to kiss him briefly, then leaning in to kiss him again, slightly reluctant to leave. He offered to help me up with my suitcase. By this point I was exceedingly weary because of my period, but I said I had it and carried it up. I avoided looking at him for a couple of seconds as I adjusted it, and when I looked up I was startled to notice that he had turned and was leaving for class.

My thoughts were somewhat of a whirl on the journey, and I began to gather them as it proceeded. As a result, I composed an exceedingly long email to him on my phone through my travels and continued to add to it throughout, sending it once I was finally home (after greeting my mum at the train station after the airport and talking to her on the train - her opinion was that I needed to be less crazy and trust his feelings - and buying groceries with them and going out to dinner and then finally going home).

The gist was basically that I didn't really understand my emotions the previous night, but was sorry about hurting him about the not noticing thing. Still, it was important to me and I would appreciate if we could talk about it further - I then went on a tangent about how talking was really important to me. I also explained that being back home meant I missed him, but (was much like January in that) I was soon okay and didn't feel that longing for him or deep sadness. What I wanted for when we were together again was to take things a little slower and hopefully I wouldn't feel the same urgency to make the most of our time. I asked a bunch of questions about his feelings, and added a couple of light questions in the postscripts. Later, I added an addendum about how I did want to apologize for hurting him (as mentioned earlier).

Then that was that.