Something new...

Aaaaaand it's done. There's a strange sense of anti-climax that has been hovering over the last few days. Though they were wonderful and (generally) everything that I thought they would be, it seems a little bit like a dream and not like it actually happened. I didn't necessarily feel the same sense of anticipation/ exhilaration as it drew near, and it's more of a slowly-dawning happiness (much like finding about my job). Perhaps this is all part of a new zen mindset.

Or perhaps not. It is me. 

So this post serves as a recap of his visit to my family, while the next one (hopefully coming soon) will be a recap of my subsequent visit to him. Apparently I'm just using this blog to recount personal memories now, so I genuinely hope no one ever finds this. Given the way the internet works, this is likely. 

I arrived on the Friday morning, relatively jetlagged since I had slept a grand total of an hour on my flight. Given the time difference, this was not ideal, but I had been working on an essay during my plane ride and had pushed it until the point where I had no choice. 

Took a taxi home from the airport and met my mum at home, had a lovely driver who called me "Bella" and thought I spoke the native language. Somehow managing to push off sleep during the day, I ran (necessary) errands like waxing - despite kerfuffles with appointments at the wrong place and confused directions - and submitting an essay. 

Finally, I met my mum at the train station so we could go pick him up from the nearby town where his flight was landing. It might seem weird that the first time I would meet him after a while would be with her, but it would have been weirder for me to go all that way on my own. Frankly, with my tiredness, I appreciated the company. On the train over, we merely chatted casually, I sidestepped her question about "what exactly we were" and seemed more relaxed than excited.

We got to the airport right on time, but his flight had landed early. My mum and I sat on a bench and I focused on a local newspaper and tried not to look for him, and then she pointed out someone who met his description. It took a second for my eyes and brain to adjust and realize that it was him there, and then I slipped through the crowd. He didn't see me until I pulled at the crook of his elbow with my hand before launching into his arms.

A brief hug later, I turned to introduce him to my mother, who looked slightly nervous a little distance away. Of course she had heard (a lot) about him, but I suppose it was different for her to actually meet the first boy I was bringing home - in a sense. A polite hello later, and we headed towards the bus back. Once I saw that the bus was already waiting at the stop, I rushed ahead in an attempt to make sure we got it, and my mother sighed a little at my impatience. We made the bus easily.

My mother was tired, so we found her a seat and then stood around it for the ride. Her tiredness contributed to minimal conversation from her beyond a few polite questions, and I felt a little bit awkward about ignoring one or the other to make conversation with the other one. Conversation was somewhat restrained, although him and I were full of smiles for each other. I nudged him with my arm on the bus repeatedly, mostly just to express my happiness at his being near, and he asked if he was "too close?", to which I rolled my eyes.

Once on the train back, after finally finding three seats near each other, I declared my intention to nap and plonked my head down on the armrest between mine and his seat. A nudge with my head was interpreted by him by putting his arm around me, which I thoroughly enjoyed but was also a little terrified about my mother observing. Still, I tried to relax as he munched on the food that my mother had insisted on buying him as an arrival present.

Naturally I was unable to actually fall asleep, but I was able to give my mother and him the chance to actually converse. I popped up at intervals to contribute, more so towards the end of the ride, and also switched to lie on my mother's lap instead. His natural tendencies towards shyness were balanced by my mother's gift for asking questions, and they discussed everything from his life, family, and future goals, to the differences in education systems, wanting to live around the world, and who knows what else. When my dad called to see where we were, my mum revealed in a language that he didn't speak that she thought he was a 'good guy', and I smiled secretly.

At the station, my parents went to go pick up groceries and offered that I walk with him around the town in the meantime, to give him a chance to see it. I jumped at the chance for some alone time, and we walked off in the direction of the main street. Barely 30 seconds after we walked away from my parents, I took his hand without much comment. I mentioned my mother's remark, and he commented that this was why he learned Chinese in the past (to understand a girlfriend's parents), and I smiled slightly while wondering what he was saying about our relationship.

We made casual conversation - I asked about him and my mother's conversation and he joked that they covered my elementary school best friends, he told me a story about his time with his friends involving trance knitting that I interrupted continually with excited asides (his conclusion was that I 'had to be there' since his story seemed underwhelming), talking about restaurants/ food etc. There were a couple of vaguely awkward moments - at least on my end - once where I joked about him being romantic (because he mentioned some disgusting natural phenomenon that I can't remember), and once when I mentioned that I said "Thanks, dude" to a guy that called me sexy. This may have been just in my mind.

It was a beautiful walk, and I enjoyed just strolling with him and lazily talking, noting my inability to correctly point out the town's tourist sights. Once we got to the lake, we just sat close near each other and looked at ducks and stars. I was hoping slightly for a kiss. I wasn't disappointed at all by the casual conversation though.

As we neared where my parents were to pick us up, I let go of his hand without much ado. We got into the car, where he met my father and there was the usual family conversation and listening to music. A short ride later, we were home. I showed him to the room he would be staying in, while my parents prepared food and watched TV upstairs. He examined my brother's and my books with much fascination, and we cuddled (held hands, I stood on the bed with my arms around his neck and him pulling him towards me with his arms around my legs, a piggy-back ride, him lifting me down from the bed and slightly misjudging the distance each time).

When we went upstairs twenty minutes later, my mother made a slightly offhand remark about how we'd vanished, and I worried that she was assuming the worst about what we were up to. Dinner was a relaxed affair, with more conversation between him and my father, and both offering him lots of food and condiments and dessert. Post-clearing the table and a very brief stroll on the terrace with the father, we all settled in front of the TV. Him and I chose a movie (three, in fact), but none of them was willing to work with the sound system on our home theatre, despite the agonizingly slow half-hour my father spent trying to make this happen. 

Finally, my parents decided to go to bed, with an early call the next morning for one and jetlag for the other. I was a little nervous at being left alone with him and wondering what they thought, and merely offered him the remote as we sat side-by-side. It was late, and he eventually settled on some kind of cooking show about the Pacific Islands/ New Zealand traditional cuisines, which he appeared fascinated by. 

Deciding there was no moment better than the present, I brought up the talk that had been on my mind. The TV remained on the whole time, since I think my parents might have been suspicious if it hadn't been, and it prevented us from having to stare at each other the whole time. A friend had given me good and rational advice on the wording that seemed to express what I was most trying to say, and I kept this in mind. The conversation went something like this -

Me: Sooooo, I think we should have a talk about what we are, since I've been kind of confused. Just in terms of where we are/ what we are, where this is going, and [voice getting higher and squeakier] how we feel about each other.

Him: Ookayy...

Me: So I've been thinking about this for a while and I figured out how I feel, but I really want to hear from you as well. But I mean I can go first or you can or whatever.

Him: Well, I haven't really thought about this that much since last time, and it's kind of putting me on the spot here. Why don't you go first?

Me: [voice somehow reaching new levels of nervousness] Errrmmm, so I, um, I really like you [I think there was some kind of light chuckle from him at this point]. And I kind of wish I hadn't figured this out because then I had to tell you and be honest with myself, and I feel like this might make things really awkward, but this is how I feel. And it feels kind of different from the way I felt in September, because it feels more complicated and also like I know you a lot better. And I want to see if we can try and explore what we might be in May when you're back. I know that I don't know what I'm doing in my future or anything, but I just want to make the most of the time we have together, and I like things to be clear.

Him: Okay, well, I really like you too [cue huge smile from me]. But I don't know...I just don't want May to feel like the end of things.

Me: I have no idea what you mean, sorry.

Him: Just in terms of...I don't want us to spend all our time together that month and do a ton of things and then just be sick of each other by the end of it and not be friends again.

Me: Uuummmm, okay. I can't promise that things will go well, but I don't think we'll be spending all our time with each other because it will be my last term and I will have lots of things I want to do with my friends. And also I don't think things will magically change just because we call it dating? What I see it as is just doing the same things we do when we're together now - watching movies and drinking wine and talking and making out and hanging out.

The conversation continued from there, with him bringing up what seemed like a number of obvious statements about what he hoped wouldn't happen (us arguing all the time, suddenly hating each other), and me rolling my eyes a little and explaining that I didn't intend this to be the case. We also covered what would happen if I wasn't in the same city next year - I explained that I would want to end things and take a break from being friends for a couple of months so I could get over him. Touching on the fact that 'Facebook official' wasn't important to me and that I hoped our mutual friends wouldn't find out, but that I wouldn't conceal anything (something he said seemed obvious to him), the conversation devolved more into joking banter, as I was in his lap on the reclining chair at this point.

At some point before the joking banter and before I climbed into his lap, he stated that he did indeed want to do this and give this a try. I seemed somewhat unconvinced and dissatisfied and tried to ascertain that this was what he wanted and not just what he thought I wanted, which he remarked on. I explained that I had spent so much time dreading this conversation and preparing myself for the worst possible outcome, that I wasn't sure what to do with this.

Finally, I asked when he was going to kiss me. He did not want to interrupt the conversation, and I said it was mostly done, but he said he was waiting for the perfect moment, and joked that he was waiting for fireworks (I countered this was impossible) and flowers (I didn't like them) and chocolate (I offered to get some but he kissed me before I could get up). This quickly transitioned to making out on the chair, though this was a time of great frustration for me since the awkward angle meant that I wasn't able to reach him as well. The fact that my parents were downstairs also meant that literally no clothing would be coming off, which I was highly disappointed by.

Of course, I thought this banter would be a good time to share how much I enjoyed when he didn't have his shirt on, as well as the time he looked all 'golden', and I think he got all pink, which I obviously commented on and enjoyed thoroughly. I also asked if he was a fat child, and he replied in the negative and then asked why, to which I explained that it was because he didn't know how hot he was (an opinion corroborated independently by my friends). He was shy though, as suspected, though I replied that I had never found him to be that way.

I also brought up that I'd been on a dating app, although I felt uncomfortable about it, and I mentioned how entertaining it was, that I'd told the guys I'd never meet up with them, and a couple of the interesting conversations. He asked how many people I'd spoken to, and I went off on a bit of a tangent on the logistics of interaction, and can't remember if I gave an actual number.

The word 'love' has been one we've thrown around somewhat casually during our 'friendship', and it's always made me a little bit uncomfortable given the ambiguity. I clarified clearly once that I just meant it in a friendly way, and felt more relaxed about the usage after. At this moment, though,  I brought up the fact that I probably wouldn't be using it if we were dating, and would save it until I really felt it, even though I did still love him as a friend. He merely nodded or something.

We soon shifted to the sofa, which was a lot more helpful in terms of me being able to reach him. He discovered that kissing my neck made me squirm in utter satisfaction and meant I would say yes to anything he asked at that point (though he never did), and continued doing that even as I warned him about hickeys. He also discovered that my parents had some idea that we were not just friends, and seemed slightly discomfited but took it in stride. I definitely felt like the creepy boyfriend who had to keep taking pauses because I kept wanting to go further.

At some point on the sofa, I paused to ask a question, noting before I did so that there was no way I could 'casually' ask this, but that the answer wasn't particularly important. It was basically whether he had been hooking up with other girls while abroad/ since we had met. He responded in the negative, and we resumed. I quickly paused to clarify that I hadn't either, and I know he hadn't asked and it wasn't important but I felt it was unfair unless I also shared.

Noticing that he seemed pretty exhausted by this point, I asked resignedly if he wanted to go to bed, and he admitted somewhat shamefacedly that he would. As we headed downstairs, I noticed him using his hoodie (that I had earlier taken off) to surreptitiously hide his crotch area, giving me a little more confidence in my abilities. For some reason (him) I wasn't tired, but I went downstairs with him and kissed him goodnight. I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt to sleep, which was normal for him but not in my family, so told him to put one on. "Really?" "Yes." I double-checked that he was wearing shorts and he responded "obviously!". Went to my own bed but wished that he was there to hold me close. Nevertheless, I passed out pretty quickly as it was 2 a.m.

I awoke with a start around 6:30 and tossed and turned in the hope that I would fall asleep again. Eventually realized this was impossible and went to his room around 7, hoping he would be ready to wake up before the previously-agreed 9:30. He was not having it, so I went upstairs and texted friends/ went on my computer until about 8:45 a.m. (I might have tried to wake him one more time in between), at which point I went downstairs and got into bed next to him to wake him up.

My father was upstairs on a call and my mother was still asleep, but I remained cautious, listening for any sound and ready to jump up at a moment's notice. So I didn't stay under the covers or cuddled up next to him for too long, though I did do that for a while as he looked for places to visit that day. He was slow to awaken as usual, and I almost fell asleep as he browsed for places to visit that day. I was still quite alert about the possibility of being interrupted, but enjoyed the brief interlude before the day. 

A quick shower later, on both our parts, we went upstairs. He wasn't able to figure out how the shower worked, and ended up using the tap in the bathtub to take what vaguely resembled a shower. With both the parents busy, I showed him where everything was in the kitchen and kept handing him things (cheese, grater, tomatoes, onions, chillies) as he chopped and cooked. I did crack and beat four eggs and added salt and pepper, but he made most of the scrambled eggs while I enjoyed being pampered a little. 

Once we started, my dad came out and instantly began offering him all manner of drinks (orange juice, coffee) and various types of cheeses and jams, all of which were accepted enthusiastically. By the time we were done, my mum was vaguely awake and the day remained cloudy and windy. 

We decided to go on a quick walk to the forest area behind my house, as my family got ready for the day. My dad (wisely) declined to come, so we headed off. Upon leaving the house, I almost immediately took his hand and we trudged contentedly up the little hill. The walk ranged across fields to a view of the city and lake and mountains, and then we backtracked a little to enter the forest and wander among the trees near the zoo. 

The best word to describe this hour-long walk would be contentment (and windy). There was no incredibly thrilling conversation or heart-to-heart, but he told me little stories about his family and encounters with wildlife (deers, raccoons, bears etc). I was very happy to just walk around holding his hand, listening to him and talking a little, trying not to show how I was slightly winded by some of the steeper uphill walks. We bickered a little about what direction we should go in with me mocking his purported sense of direction as usual, and challenging him to get us home, but in the end I wound up taking us on the quickest way home. He could have gotten us home, but I refused to accept his sense of direction nonetheless since it would have been a longer route.

Once home, we spent a little time downstairs, but I cautiously refused to spend too much time there. I think we did a little bit of cuddling and talking, but headed upstairs to make the plan for the day. My parents were finishing up breakfast, and we chatted a little as they got ready. There might have been some cuddling when they went to get stuff downstairs (of the same sort with me standing at a height and him pulling me to him, with a little kissing after which I pulled away quickly upon hearing what might be my parents approaching).

When we left for the drive, I settled down for a nap in the backseat. There was a brief disagreement where my mother thought I wasn't clad warmly enough for the top of the mountain where we'd be going, and when my parents jokingly asked him what he thought, he took my side, which made me smile. 

At opportunities, I took the chance to use his arm as a pillow, or at least hold his hand or entangle my fingers in his somehow (in a way not immediately visible to my parents in the front). The conversation was largely at intervals with my parents, although there were a couple of asides between us, such as where he warned me that I shouldn't be cold because he had defended me earlier. My mother took an even greater shine to him when she discovered he enjoyed the classical music, and the next day my father hunted down the CD so he could get the music himself.

We reached the mountain, where I used the bathroom while my mother promptly purchased a hat for me (that actually proved quite useful). As we waited for the cable cars to the top, my father sent us in the first one, but him and my mother stayed to get the next one. I felt a little bit awkward about this (and also wondered how much they could see from behind us), but that didn't stop me from sitting close to him on the 20-minute ride and clutching his hand tightly, especially when the car bumped slightly.

The fogginess of the day prevented the view from being as lovely as it might have been, and he characterized it as pretty instead of beautiful. However, once we got to the top of the mountain (after another, larger cable car which was taken in a group), the glowing white snow and mountains around motivated him to call them "beautiful", despite the light rain and later very brief snow/ hail.

My parents remained indoors, handing us the requisite winter equipment (father's hat, mother's jacket and scarf) to allow us to venture and climb up the steps to the very top. We did this holding hands/ arms, and he commented on the high altitude, which was relieving since I was worried that I was merely incredibly unfit. A group of Japanese tourists at the top prevented us from seeing the view from every angle, but he still considered it "beautiful".

After, we joined my parents for a hot drink (green tea for me, latte for him), and then loitered a little while waiting for the next car down. The set of world clocks in the waiting area was noteworthy because I had visited every city on there, apart from Tokyo (my father had been to all). The car was packed full of tourists, and I remember regretting slightly that I had let myself be separated from being near him. Instead, I clutched my mother's hand at the little bumps. 

We were alone in the smaller car on the way down as well, though this time we followed my parents. The ride was similar on the way down, holding hands and making little conversation - I remember discussing the types of trees, the picnic happening at an area below us, the weather, the snow on the ground, the distant church, the cables of the car and how they looked different near the car itself, etc.

Upon getting back on the ground - and noticing once again the little splash of blue paint that had gotten on the car somehow - we returned to the car for another quick drive to a nearby picturesque town. I once again commandeered his arm and hand, and enjoyed the drive. Initially we drove past the town to see more scenery, but the weather didn't really allow for this, and we turned back to explore on foot.

The town had a river, a very old bridge, some ducks and swans, another bridge, a pretty fountain and town square, and we all walked along the banks of the river and within the streets of the town a little. A quick tea later (at which point literally everyone but me used the bathroom), we headed back home to have dinner.

We ate at my favourite Italian place, and even got starters for once. He later informed me that liberal use of the chili oil during bruschetta meant he barely tasted his main course (justifying my mocking of his spice tolerance). I was uncharacteristically not particularly hungry, though I still finished most of my meal. When it was time for tiramisu, I refused to share mine and he got his own, with my parents taking bites from each of us. I looked meaningfully at the last chunk on his plate when I was done with mine, causing him to scoop it up in a hurry and eat it, claiming the last bite belonged to him.

A (very) brief walk later, we returned to the carpark, and for once I didn't rest my head on the drive home, merely holding his hand. On getting home, I claimed the need to finish my packing for the trip while my parents relaxed upstairs. 

In reality, the packing was done, and we used the brief interval to make out enthusiastically on his bed. I sat in his lap on the edge of the bed, but eventually pushed him down to lie on top of him. He tasted like tiramisu and it was amazing. Once again, I had to pause a couple of times to prevent myself from going further. The room door was mostly open in order to be able to hear the potential descent of my parents, but it only later struck me that they might have been able to hear us too. Not that we were particularly loud, but kissing has a distinct sound and I can be slightly...vocal. We also paused once I could hear my parents talking, and I soon forced myself to head upstairs, though continuing a couple of times after I declared my intention to do so. We also headed upstairs almost right after I pushed him down on the bed, something he commented on (previously I was sitting on his lap facing him).

(I completely forgot to mention this somehow), but we all watched a movie that night. I was embarrassed at my parents' reactions - the movie was a family favourite and they said obvious things throughout. I sat close to him on the half-couch, and clutched concealedly at his shirt during suspenseful moments. About two-thirds of the way through, I got up and we switched sides when I got back, giving him a better view and also allowing me to clutch at him without it being as obvious to my parents. He seemed to like the movie also, though nothing could match the enthusiasm of my parents.

My parents eventually went down to sleep, and we watched TV and I climbed into his chair to snuggle with him. He made some remark about how the chair wasn't really meant for two (at some point on the two days there was a loud ripping sound as some internal working came undone, but I mostly ignored that), and I moved away, slightly offended. He mumbled something about how this wasn't what he meant. Eventually I returned to cuddle as he watched TV, warning him that we couldn't both fall asleep there.

Promptly, we did that. However, he woke me about twenty minutes later, letting me know that we both had fallen asleep. Once I was awake, I might have made out with him for a little while, but tiredness sent us both to our beds relatively soon. He did come to my room after he had finished getting ready for bed (I had left my room door open and light on  for this purpose) to kiss me goodnight, which I enjoyed.

Sleep came quickly since it was 2 once again, and I woke briefly for the alarm I had set at 8:30 to check if he seemed inclined to wake at all (he did not). I then stumbled back to bed and only woke with a start at 10:30, to find him freshly showered in his room. Admonishing him for not waking me, he said that he had only just gotten out. He smelled like my toiletries and home, which was a little jarring.

I believe we sat by each other for a while and just chatted as he was on his computer, I think I lay on his bed and prevented him from making it, he nudged me with his foot, slightly offending me. Loth to move, I lay on his bed and ignored his requests/ commands to move. Once I replied in the negative when he asked if I was mad or making a point, he headed upstairs with his book (Love in the Time of Cholera) in resignation.

Following him up, I greeted my mother and lazed around for a little while on my phone. It took me quite a while to drum up motivation to go downstairs, especially since my mother sent both of us down briefly so she could pray. Finally, he got back upstairs and I stayed downstairs. I got ready quite slowly, taking a leisurely shower.

When I was finally back upstairs for breakfast, I found him eating my favourite meal with the rest of my family. My mother whispered in an aside to me that he had eaten a little more than expected, so I could only have two portions. I was entirely fine with this since it was my customary serving size, and settled down to enjoy the meal. 

He continued being offered things and pampered by my parents, while my mum got together cheeses and various foods for us to take. I was vaguely resentful and refused to let him use my brother's mug, not noticing until it was too late that he got mine instead. After food, I took a little while to get the last of my things together, and he teased me about having everyone wait for me all morning.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and I used the assorted jackets in the backseat to hide the fact that we were holding hands. I briefly laid my head down, but not for too long. Mostly, I just lolled in the sun, listening to the Beatles and other music, holding his hand, listening to my parents murmuring, and being entirely happy in the moment. He took my parents' side with evident satisfaction in terms of joking quarrels about my capacity for sleep. We did have a couple of conversational asides where he mentioned some kind of motorcycle gang and his love for a state back home, I woke him to admire the scenery - much of the usual teasing banter. 

At the airport, there was a quick goodbye in front to my parents, where they enthusiastically offered to have him stay even while I wasn't there, slightly surprising me. He proprietarily took charge of my suitcase as I searched for a pen to write down the code to my father's credit card for emergencies, and continued to commandeer it as we headed in. Once inside, I sought and found his hand, and we proceeded to head for our flight back to the town in which he stayed.