Previously on Life from the Closet…
“We’re dating, right? I’m surprised you think that four months is a long time. We’re not quite there yet, but we’re on our way. I want a serious relationship.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear exactly. We weren’t on the same page when it came to relationship timeframes. I guess I was so used to being with Americans, who’d stick the boyfriend label one month in, that I forgot to consider that he was the first local I was dating seriously. When I think of his response now, I figure he’s right. Four months isn’t a long time compared to being single for 20 years. I wasn’t even single for 20 years—I was in a relationship with myself, and that relationship wasn’t afraid to ask the tough question: Are you really ready to commit to someone else?
Our conversation didn’t end there. I told him all my doubts about him. I confessed how I felt that he was too busy for a relationship that I started questioning if I was important to him. He asked me to be more understanding of his situation, how close he was to reaching his goals, and he told me that whether I was important to him or not was on him. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but it certainly didn’t make me feel better about myself. I felt taken for granted, especially after going through all that trouble today. Perhaps it was his way of saying no.
In return, he wanted to clear his doubts about me, but it was the sole doubt that got me with Walt in the first place: my ex-boyfriend Diego. Walt was supposed to be a rebound for him, but look at where we are now. When he had asked about my travel plans before tonight, I mentioned Tokyo because Diego would be there next spring. I explained that after he and I broke up, we worked on our friendship and agreed to go meet somewhere that was closer to me. But I also mentioned that I left some strings untied in New York City, so I wanted to go back there and change that. It was my way of telling Walt that I can be a player, too, if that was what he was going for.
I organized my thoughts and came clean… sort of. I told him that my friends were on Team Diego because he’s better for me. He can take that I’m needy, that I’m in need of a great love story. But I am not my friends. I’m on Team Walt because he’s what I have. If my friends could see the Walt that I knew, they’d like him, too.
It was such a shitty explanation. As I’m writing this, I’m waiting for Diego to reply. I haven’t even wished Walt a good morning yet. Truth is, it’s easier to be with Diego. He gets me, but he lives on the other side of the world. So far, everything with Walt is a compromise, one that always swayed to his advantage. I’m not that kind of girl. One of the reasons I hardly get insecure is because I’m used to getting so spoiled, there’s hardly room for insecurities.
But he is what I have, and according to the conversation that we just had, I think we’d be stuck with each other for a while. I tell him to stop worrying because Diego and I are definitely just friends. I even show him a photo of the new guy Diego is seeing. While I’m sure he doesn’t believe me, I stop myself from explaining further to avoid saying something I might regret, so I do what he does when he wants me to shut up—I kiss him and say good night.
I’m not exactly a fan of what happened on the island, so here’s an abridged version of our day, or more appropriately, his day with me tagging along. He saw one of his PT friends before we got on the boat, and he could not stop talking to her and about her. He went as far as ditching me to be with her. I honestly thought that he forgot that we were on a date. He had said that he wanted to make the most out of the weekend with me, but that was a lie that was as big as his fat head.
On the drive back home, I immediately forget that I had a horrible date because his hand found its way back into mine. It’s the things like this that stop me from feeling insecure about our faux-lationship—at the end of the day, he does things to remind me that he’s mine. But at the back of my mind, I know we’re still not official, especially after last night’s pillow talk, so I ask him, “What’s the line between dating exclusively and being in a relationship?”
I take my eyes off the road to look him in the eyes. He seems to have no answer, but then he says, “It’s hard to explain, but in a relationship, there are feelings.”
“Ah, so you’re that kind of guy—no labels, no love. So you don’t love me?”
“Well, not yet,” he says, looking me in the eye when his tongue rolls out the word yet.
“I’ll fight for you. I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
“And I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
I couldn’t help but wonder… was this boy sincere? Or did he say that to make me hear what I wanted to hear? It was a question only time could answer, or Walt, for that matter, as soon as he opens himself up to the point where I completely and confidently know that there is a place for me in his heart.