A wrong guy

He is not the first guy I feel so wrong to date with.

If there is one thing I hardly want to write about, it’s love. People ask me why it seems as if I’m always in a relationship with someone. There are also some moments I think I have known every aspect of what called “love”. Flirty messages, mutual conversations, and how long it takes to deep kisses. Naked lies, unbearable silence, and how the sweetest couple always ends up in a breakup. However, after dating several guys, I realize that playing a role as a love expert is definitely not my thing. Albeit rather unimaginable, the fact that I’m so reckless and shallow-minded ruined my seemingly perfect relationship after late-night drinking with another strange guy. I may be a good kisser but have yet to know exactly what “love” looks like. I may get excited at flirting but always let “love” vanish as an amateur magician.

That’s the reason why I keep asking whether he is the “love” I’ve been looking for or not.

Long-distance relationships shit. There is no need to sugarcoat it. Sometimes I think I could see his disappointment over me. I blamed him for making me break up with my ex, not knowing that he couldn’t sleep at all after that night of drinks and laughter. I blamed him for keeping constant tabs on me, making my feeling of freedom diminish, not knowing he had to contact all of my friends in Beppu to know where I was in the middle of the night when I was so drunk. I blamed him for being a controlling man, which made me feel minor irritation, not knowing that he tried to order a cake to fulfill my Valentine’s Day. I blamed him for everything, not knowing that he did everything for me.

As a young girl who was terrified of any sort of commitment whatsoever, I found that I couldn’t fall for anyone who would be 6770 miles away from me. I’m aware that the longer couples are apart, the more uncertainties will fester and grow into legitimate existential crises. Nonetheless, somehow we made it work through ups and downs. I might haven’t tried my best to make him believe me. He might haven’t found a proper way to take care of me. We might still have had some unsolved issues. We might have flaws. But he accepted mine, and so did I, I guess.

I can’t tell how many times I keep repeating into his face that I won’t lose interest in him. But there’s a thing he has yet to notice: having him is truly a blessing in my life since the beginning of my journey to adulthood. I won’t mind telling people I have chances to meet that I’m the luckiest girl on earth to have him as a boyfriend, a mentor, a soulmate, even though it may be just for a short phase of life. Had it not been for those 4 glasses of beer (as well as my pretending to-be-drunk-af), I’d never have had a golden chance to know more about him as an individual, an intellectual attraction, and emotional intelligence. At this moment, I can tell that I love him for who he really is. His sparkling eyes full of genuine joy when I came to his house and played with his little sister. His willingness to know a little bit more about advertising to talk with me. He tried to cook the same dishes with mine so that we could feel we were having dinner together. Gradually, we are moving beyond the infatuation and becoming a team, aren’t we?

He is not the first guy I feel so wrong to date with.

He is the first guy I feel so right to date, to talk, to love and to grow together.

I’ve found the “love”, haven’t I?