Back to where you once belong

Back in my home country, visiting family, stuck on a mountain with nothing of interest to do in any direction. I got sick of the atmosphere inside my parents house and escaped outside to sit at the bus stop, doing nothing but wish that issues dealing with my family weren't so complicated making me want to constantly leave and get as far away as possible. A different country perhaps? Japan sounds good.
The sun burned down quite brightly that day. I sat under the covers of the bus stop shade and tried to look at my phone screen but there was still too much glare to see clearly and my sweaty hands were sliding across the screen; I couldn’t grip and navigate my Facebook feed. It’s probably just another bunch of photos of my sister in law’s kid sleeping anyway. Again. Kids sleep. Get over it, fuck. Eventually a girl on a motorbike stops nearby. Staying there for a long while looking around in all directions in the midday heat getting sweaty. Perhaps she was waiting for someone?

Eventually, deciding that I needed a change of scenery, I got up and started walking. As I passed the girl she looked at me and said hi with a smile, sweat pouring from her face. I returned the greeting and she asked if there was somewhere nearby where she could fill up an empty bike tank. Completely in another frame of mind having spent the last bunch of days immersed in family drama, I was a little confused. I wasn’t really ready to talk to anyone. I looked around trying to think where she could go, then figured it out. It wasn’t that far so I offered to show her. She was a slim Asian not native to my country, as it seems my country is now being over run by them. We had a pleasant conversation and the thought of meeting her again was not at the top of my mind considering I was stuck in my parents house, and traveling all the way back here to pick up more Asians was not something I wanted to do. That, and she wasn’t that cute. The above points become moot in the face of a supreme hotness. Nonetheless she suggested we go for a coffee sometime and exchanged numbers.

Later over text I agreed to meet up, reasoning with myself that it would be good to be out of the house and have conversation with someone closer to my age. After I dropped her back at her place she invited me in to hang out a bit and I met her housemates who were native locals and clearly much cooler than her. We all enjoyed chatting and hanging out until I had to go. As she was showing me to my car outside and hugging me goodbye I thought, ‘why the fuck not?’ and leaned in to take kiss. She leaned away really quickly and looked at me with a mortified expression on her face. It was a really bizarre look. Her head reeled back and her eyes shot open wide with her mouth ajar. It looked like I had just stabbed her in the stomach and she saw the blood on her hands and was just realizing it. I guess she wasn’t down. Hahaha! I drove away and later got a message saying something along the lines of, “I was thinking to kiss you goodnight but I got nervous.”

The next date at her house the room mates were both out of town and we had the place to ourselves to watch a movie. She chose some movie called, ‘500 days of summer’. It’s about a lame guy who gets a crush on a chick at his work, they hook up for dates and sex and she basically uses him as a placeholder until she finds a guy her type so she drops him and gets married to this other guy. That’s the entire movie plot in one sentence. The whole time the girl is doing her best to make it clear they are only hooking up, and when she says these things in the movie, my date turns to me and says, “What do you think about that girl? What do you think about her behavior?” And she glares at me with her eyes narrowed in carefully gauging my response. Fuck I don’t want to deal with this. “The girl is just being a hot girl. She is enjoying her life.” I state back, as always, being vague; this lets the girl choose whatever meaning from that statement that she wants. But it goes over her head…”Don’t you think that the girl is bad? She is hurting the guy’s feelings. She is just playing with him.” And she wants me to say that the girl is a slut and people should only ever be together for true love… Not going there sorry. Don’t agree. “She would hurt the guy’s feelings even more if they never hooked up. This way they can at least enjoy themselves, even if it’s only for a short time. That’s better than nothing, right?” it makes sense to me at least. Not to her though.

“But if they were never together in the first place, then he would never feel the pain of loss.” Fuck this conversation, or rather, fuck this movie for bringing up this conversation. No, that’s not enough. Fuck Hollywood and everything it stands for cause it is seriously being a cock block right now.

I try to ignore the girl’s deeper questions about love and fate and give vague half assed answers cause the topic is just no fun. At least not for me, not right now. A good topic for me would be crazy hot sex. Well, not so much as a topic, but more of an activity. Anyway, the mood is serious and tense in the room and the girl is giving me coldness. Whateeeevr chick.

Finally the crap movie ends and we decide to watch another. It’s a movie called ‘the portrait of Dorian Gray.’ The blurb says it is about a man who trades his soul to live a life of endless hedonism, a topic I have more in common with. We begin to watch, and I begin to touch her legs, and her mine. We sit so close to each other she is almost on me until I go to kiss her and she stops me and looks at me with a tense expression on her face, and chokes out some tense words, “Why are you doing this?” And I’m like, “Wuuut?”

Then she gets all Dawson’s Creek drama on my shit, “What is it you want from me? Why are you here? And what am I to you? What do I mean to you? Do I mean nothing? Am I just your ‘Summer Fling’? Or what?” Each sentence coming out with extra dramatic expression and perfectly rehearsed intonation.

And I’m like… speechless.

She moves around on the couch to lie back, propping herself up with her elbows while her legs wrap around my waist. “Look, if I don’t kiss you, will you still cum?”

I stop and reflect on this question. Will I still be able to bust my load if she doesn’t make out with me? Sure I can do that. I’ve been in this position before when a girl didn’t think that it was cheating on her boyfriend if she didn’t kiss me. I sure love making out, but if I had to choose between sex or making out, I choose sex. I’m just a little puzzled by the question and how it completely nullifies the whole teenage/midday love drama tone preceding it. My puzzled expression causes her to clarify.

“Will you still come here and see me if I don’t kiss you. Will you still come to my place and be my friend?”

Well that is completely not what I was thinking she meant. Well whatever, sure I’ll hang out if there are no kisses and no romance. We can just be friends, and I let her know that. What I don’t let her know is that as long as I am a man who is sexually attracted to her, I will still try to touch her. And that is what I do. We watch the movie for a bit more until I put my hands on her legs and she pushes me away. Then I do it again. And again. And again and again. Then she grabs my hands away and still holding on to them says in a real dramatic tone, “Stop it! Just stop it! OK? Why?! Why?!” And looks at me with a kissy face. So I jump on board with this romance tone and get all deep voiced romance guy on her and look her straight in the eyes, “Look, I can’t help it, OK? You want me to stop, but I can’t. I can’t control myself around you, OK? You do this to me. Don’t ask me to stop cause I can’t! It’s your fault for being cute.”

And she lets out a soft moan, which I interpret as my cue to start making out. I grab her a little forcefully and push her back onto the couch, hovering my face just above hers and feel her breathe. She is trembling slightly and watching me waiting for what is going to happen next as she holds onto my arms and grips me tightly holding me close in place. And there, with my face only millimeters from hers we wait, and wait, until she can wait no more and grabs my face and starts making out. There is a fine line between being a dramatic character who takes the lead and being a clueless forceful date rapist with the difference being the ability to stop and take a step back at key moments, or know when to just completely walk away. I consider myself the former and showing this might be what is turning this girl on so much.

Much more active than the passive Japanese girls who are often slow, gentle, distant and cautious to create that shy appeal they are world famous for, she is the opposite and wraps her legs around me tightly, pulls my hair and rubs her hands all over my face aggressively. I keep the mood equal and squeeze her butt. We are getting very intimate very quickly on the couch and at some point she stops me to say, “Wait. It’s not too late for us to stop.” Which I interpret as, ‘I think I want to fuck you but you are going to need to say something more to get me there.”

“If you want us to stop, we can stop. But right now, everything that is happening just feels so good and so right, I don’t think we can…”

And she looks at me, and with a really serious and intense tone she says, “Let’s stop.”

Crud… And I’m thinking that this chick reaaaaaly isn’t worth fighting for. So, I get the fuck up and walk away, towards the kitchen, to get some water and as I grab a glass she is there looking back at me looking completely puzzled. I stand there taking small sips, reflecting over how many times I have been in this push pull situation only to end up involved with a women who gets increasingly more petty and self centred as the relationship continues. My ‘high maintenance’ indicators are flashing on and off and they are shouting at full volume, “Not worth it! Not worth it!”

Then a dude shows up at the door…? The glass sliding back door, that anyone can see into. Random. It’s a sweaty drab guy looking scruffy and out of shape with a tough guy tattoo and general shit style. She goes over and starts talking to him and he is saying that he just popped by to say hi on his way home from work. I’m thinking what the fuck is going on here, but play along with it and offer the guy some water. He declines, they wrap up their short little chit chat and he leaves. She closes the door, and is like, “That was my ex-boyfriend. I have no clue why he showed up just now. Why are you looking at me like that? Are you OK?” As I stood there casually drinking a glass of water, ignoring her suggestion that I think this is an issue I care about.

She comes running over and in a small, whiney, dying cat like scrawl she says, “Why did you leave me back there before?” and fuuuck writing this all out again is making me my head spin and get annoyed at the stupidity of this weird situation inside this geek Asian girl’s place so I’m going to glaze over most of it. I reply, “Because you said stop so I stopped cause I’m not a rapist.”

“But I didn’t want you to just walk away.” We re-continue making out in the kitchen. She tells me we should go ahead and do it and leads me to her room and is really excited and is jumping around and hugging me. I ask her to wait few seconds while I use the bathroom. After, I come into the room and she has changed her mind. We shouldn’t do it. I say OK. She starts making out with me again then decides we should. I go to get a condom. She decides that we shouldn’t do it after all. I get the condom out anyway and she goes along with it. As I’m about to put it in she says stop, we really shouldn’t do it. I say, “cool.” And start laughing my ass off. She asks why I’m laughing and then grabs me and pulls me into her. We fuck. It’s not glorious, nor is it boring. It’s just old fashioned ravishing sex that we both were in need of at that moment. A few more sessions and I leave.

Now as I said, I was in my home country, and coincidentally a Japanese nurse who I was hooking up with in Japan was visiting. She decided that she would even make a trip to my hometown which is a lovely place for a tourist to spend a few days. And lucky for me, or for her, I was going to be the tour guide. When I saw her again I was so happy to see her face. She was cute and lovely and she was always so cool yet, kind to me. I wanted so badly to sleep with her, and when the chance came up, we fucked like dynamite with the curtains to the hotel room wide open and the lights on. I’m sure someone had to have seen us. We enjoyed a little romantic vacation from reality and just chilled out taking the calmness in.

She was so easygoing and fun, yet down to earth. But like almost all women I’m with, the first time sleeping with her after a long time without, is never as good as the next. And small things that I want to change in her, like the kind of clothes she wears, make me feel that there is an overall difference in our values and compatibility. Like, we are in a shop of women’s clothes and I find a long flowing strapless summer dress that starts at around the cleavage and continues to the ankles. She tries it on and it is perfect for her. I tell her I will get it for her but she declines saying, “It’s too sexy. I can’t wear this type of dress.” How can anything be too sexy? Why would anyone want to be less sexy than they can possibly be? Wouldn’t you want to be as sexy as possible for your love interest? And this dress wasn’t like it was cheap looking or slutty. What the hell? I give up.

We enjoy our time none-the-less and as I promised her, on the final evening I escort her to a strip bar where she may enjoy the best of the nude white female figure. She loves it. I enjoy it too. I like hot white chicks. Especially naked ones that are really slim, tall and curvy. Later she tells me she is inspired to work out. I absolutely support this. And on the last day as I send her off at the airport I feel a slight sense of sadness, not only in her, but myself also. Alas, we wave goodbye and I walk out the door and say hello again to being a single guy, as always.  

The other chick, the annoying Asian one wants to meet me and I agree to take her to the beach for a swim. When we meet she is really, really excited to see me and can’t get her hands off me. She wants to make out way too much, too publicly and we get into the water. While immersed I play with her pussy and make her squeal. After we get out and go to the change rooms I try to get it on with her in there but she looks at me like I have just stabbed her pet kittens to death. I try again but she is really adamant. I give up. We walk along the beachfront, admiring the architecture and she tries to bring up arguments over my choices in what I like. More than garnish an intellectual debate, she annoys me. Then acts all dramatic by walking away, waiting for me to chase after her, which I don’t. Later at dinner in mid conversation she pushes my red button and cancels all future hope of us ever hanging out again.

I’m not sure why it is, but I think there is some kind of non-Japanese-but-greater-Asia-custom for the girls to act all bossy to their guys, or create mini-dramas and have mini-tantrums to make the guy be all like, ‘Sorry Chai-Lao Ngen baby! I didn’t mean it that way! I swear! Don’t be like that. Forgive me!” as he chases after the girl who is strutting away with her nose turned up sticking out her mini-titties as best she can while the guy is holding her purse for her and runs in ushered little tippy toe steps… Fucking gay.

Anyway, as I said we are at dinner and our mini-drama moment arises. It’s a nice Italian place that is semi outdoor allowing us to enjoy the ocean sounds and the cool sea breeze. The food is great. I have enjoyed most of my food but she can’t seem to eat any of hers for whatever reason. I think she had like two bites. She says she is trying to put on weight cause she can’t eat enough and I’m like, “You aren’t really helping yourself now. This is probably the best tasting food you will eat this week.” She declines the food. Whatever. I eat it. We chat about music and live shows we have been to and what music she likes and she tells me that she likes the drummer from Man-O-War. And I’m like, “whaaaa?” and just as my ‘WTF?’ face appears, she pushes the red-button. The uncoolest of the uncool things to do on a date. Her right hand raises up off the table and comes down with some amount of force in one smooth motion right smack bang onto my right cheek. SLAP! I hear the clap and I feel the stingy burning sensation and know for sure that as I sit there at this outdoor Italian gourmet establishment, the afterglow of enjoying a succulent meal is replaced entirely by the glow of a red hand mark on the side of my face, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up, not with anger but extreme embarrassment as I feel all the other patrons and staff turn to look, and hush their conversations to listen in. Did she really just slap me? Why? This is unexpected, intolerable, inexcusable and completely unforgivable.

She blurts out, “Why are you looking at me like that?! I said I like the drummer of Man-O-War, not the band! And so what if I did like the band!? Don’t you look at me like that just because I like something that isn’t cool enough for you!”

I feel my expression change, as if I had just remembered something highly amusing and I’m trying to hold back the laughter as to not appear crazy. But I know I am smirking and at the same time my eyes have narrowed in on her like a lion about to pounce. She blurts out again, “So now you are looking at me like that! Well who are you? And who do you think you are?”

And at this moment I know just how much of a vindictive asshole I am in the way I so suddenly know how to react to create the most damage. Instead of getting pissed, I very calmly and in a controlled and clear tone, get boss on this bitch and tell her how it is, “I don’t care about the band, Man-O-War. I have never heard their music and have absolutely no opinion on them. I only know their album covers, which appear to be old school metal. I was surprised that you know who they are let alone have the opinion of them and their drummer. And that is why I had that expression on my face. But for you to slap me, across the face, for some random assumption of me, in a classy restaurant, is not the way to behave as a lady. I think it is time for us to leave. I’m going to get the check.”

And I stand up and walk over to the counter where the young waitress is looking at me with wide eyes either from amusement at the weird little Asian girl restaurant slap, or from admiration of me laying it down real and keeping it cool. We take a walk to the car and she takes my hand which I reciprocate while making some light-hearted chit chat and as we get to her place she is asking me about when we will next meet. I give vague responses on uncertain times and kiss her on the lips to say goodbye without inviting myself inside. All as part of the plan I made the very moment I was slapped across the face, for looking at her funny. Because I know, that the most evil and hurtful thing I can do to her, is not get angry, not buy into drama and play along with it, not get involved in some scene and not get petty about the small things. The worst thing for this girl is to be taken on a romantic date by a tall gentleman who turns her on, enjoys adventurous sexual moments in semi-public locations, has a good conversation and a laugh, drives her around and pays for everything, exhibits all the roughness and excitement of a rebel, but all the admirable and controlled qualities of a gentlemen who you could trust raising children with, deals with her attitude in a calm way and kisses her goodbye like it was all forgotten. Only to never hear from him again, and never know why. That chance fate encounter on the street disappears into meaninglessness, and the memory she has is not of a bad angry argument, but only of a wonderful time, with a kind man that she won’t ever get back. That is how far ahead I planned the moment I got that slap. That cold, hard, calculating side of me, makes me very fucking scared of who I am right now.

Sure enough I got some more messages from her asking what is going on, when are we going to meet, am I angry, what happened. Much much later after I had returned to Japan I got a message from her saying that she went past the place where we first met on the roadside and thought about how strange fate is in how it works. What was the meaning of us ever meeting? What was the meaning of our fate? And why did everything we had between us, after all we had been through, disappear into nothing? I looked at this message thinking, “All we have been through? Two and half dates and an orchestrated attempt at a teenage drama? Grow the fuck up!” And I laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Later I tried to see how the nurse was doing in her hometown and sent her messages that gave me no reply. Went to check out her wall on facebook to see if everything was OK and found out that she had unfriended me without explanation and I laughed at the ridiculousness of that also.

An adult video star who is literally the fantasy woman of thousands of men falls through my fingers and I don’t care. I get slapped by a girl and my response is to destroy her heart and laugh at it. Probably one of the nicest and most caring women I have felt slightly close to in years removes me from her life without explanation and I find it amusing… what the fuck is wrong with me? What happened to my life? What happened to my soul? I used to be kind and care about people. I was idealistic and romantic. I used to dream of having a nice wife who I could talk to about anything and mess around with and make laugh. Now all I care about is the next body I lay before I move on to the next. I’m a vampire. A soulless, heartless, callous, pale and decrepit vampire that sucks the life out of everything he touches. But I’m aging unlike a vampire and can see my reflection and the person I see in the mirror is not someone who I’m sure I can respect anymore. What happened to my emotions, my pain and my sympathy? The genuine warmth and valour I had? I’m bitter and jaded from spending too much time seeing only the worst in other people and numbing myself from the pain that I must sense at some level somewhere deep inside.

Six months ago after this went down I felt it was time to get some perspective. I stopped chasing girls. I stopped getting laid. I went on a couple of friendly dates and never followed up on most of them with the view that I wouldn’t be the old me. I would act with the view of dating someone long term. The one girl who I did want to see again lead me on for a couple of dates and now she has disappeared. I think she was married anyway. Again this didn’t hurt me and send me into some kind of self doubt where I wonder what I did wrong like I would have 5-10 years ago. I’m past that now. And the result of all this is that I haven’t been laid in 6 months. That is like 2 years in dog years, and 10 years in playboy years. I wonder if and how it is changing my perspective. I think it is. Now when I look back at some of my actions while I have been in Japan I feel a deep sense of regret. I've wasted far too much time allowing myself to be used by superficial cold judgmental women who have made me become just like them.

Sometimes the loneliness is intolerable, but I tolerate it. And I day dream, of a better life, and a better time where all my being is stable and in check. Who I wish to be and who I really am inside is aligned perfectly. Honesty and warmth radiates from me. I am on a Yacht sailing away with my girl in her skimpy bikini and I’m not afraid to tell her I love her because I somehow know she won’t disappear on me suddenly for no reason. My brothers are there the sick one isn’t dying of cancer anymore. His body is able and his beautiful kids and wife are all having a good time. I tell him to stop eating cause he is a fat chump, even though he is nowhere near fat, and he tells me to eat some food and stop hiding behind the chopsticks cause I’m that thin. Tensions between other family members and my mother's bimbo tendencies and crazy dramatic attention seeking behavior is non-existent. Everyone is happy to just to be chill. The Yacht is our paradise. I cook food for everyone in my kitchen that isn’t some microscopic Japanese kitchen and can handle food for more than two people, and we enjoy it while the sun goes down. The TV is huge and the nephews are playing games on it, while the grown ups talk about business, politics, music, art and other grown up stuff. In the morning I wake to a heavy schedule of; eating food, drinking coffee, reading news, working out on my yacht gym, creating artistic abstract sculptures from wood or stone, playing guitar and learning piano, in between surfing reef breaks and hiking on hidden islands of the pacific. In this dream, I won’t be alone and will care about someone aside from myself. My girl is just as beautiful the next day just as much as the first and we make each other laugh and smile while inspiring each other to be better than the day before. It’s a beautiful world, the view is so clear and the water feels so good. The kids laughter sounds so happy and carefree, the sun is so warm but the breeze so cool and every sound I hear tastes like success and everything I see, smells like victory.