Well, I am sorry that fiction should be feeling so real. It was not real, nothing should be inferred from it other than this was my creative outlet.
So I'm trying again, rewrote the story in a third person's voice. What do you think?
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First Date
Catherine
couldn’t quite recall how they met. John was not from San Francisco bay area,
not even California. He had just moved from Maryland.
He said
that he was originally from the Midwest, she couldn’t remember where, it could
be Michigan, Indiana, or Illinois. They were all the same to her. He had a
German sounding last name; he said that his family migrated to the Midwest from
Germany in the 30s. He did his PhD in South Carolina. He was a bio scientist.
But when Catherine met him, he had moved from being a research scientist to a product
manager. He said that money was better there. He worked for a large
biotech company in the Upper Peninsula. He was often in Switzerland, Germany
and Austria for work.
For their
first date, they went out for dinner. He paid. Catherine often paid fifty
percent or just simply picked up the tab when she went out, but she didn’t
insist on paying this time. She guessed that he was at least 10 years senior
than her. She later found out that he was 36. Catherine just turned 23 at the
time. On their first date, he took her back to her apartment.
Be a Gentleman - The German Way
At the
time Catherine lived in Campbell, in a non-descript apartment building, with
her German roommate Monika. Monika was from Stuggart. Monika was a blonde, a very
Germanic looking lady in her early fifties. She was plump, friendly, and very
formal like you’d expect a German would be. She spoke with a very strong German
accent. She had two grown children; she worked as a cashier in J.C.
Penny’s in Sunnyvale. She was divorced. She came to this country with her then
husband. They divorced years ago. He cheated on her.
Catherine
loved her. She was the mother Catherine never had. Catherine’s
parents had died in 1989 during the Tiananmen demonstration. They were a couple
of moderate communist party members who were arrested, accused of being student
sympathizers. They died in prison. She came to the United States under
political asylum visa, applied by her aunt, who at the time lived in Los
Angeles and married to a Chinese dentist. Catherine had been an only child. By
the time she was in college, she left southern California for northern
California. She had practically been on her own since she was 17. When she got
out of college, she was looking for a place near her first job at a
semiconductor firm in the Silicon Valley. Monika took her in. She paid half the
rent and kept Monika company. In return, Monika made her sauerkraut and spaetzle
all the time. Monika did Christmas seriously, like you’d see in Europe.
She took Catherine shopping at Trader Joe’s, where she found German goodies.
Monika drank a glass of gewürztraminer every night. While Catherine did
not like to drink, she liked the sweet taste of it. She often bought bottles of
them and brought home for Monika.
Monika
approved Catherine’s relationship with John, in part because he was German, and
in part John treated her like she ought to be treated, a lady. She said that he
was a true gentleman. He knew Catherine was living with Monika. So on their
first date, he brought Monika a bottle of German wine when he came to pick
Catherine up that evening. Catherine felt that she needed Monika’s approval.
Her last boyfriend was a blond Californian native. He was narcissistic,
inconsiderate, and turned out to be a heart breaker. He made her drive
to see him; he never wanted to stay at her place. And the worst trait, according
to Monika, was that he never opened the passenger side of door for Catherine.
Monika told
Catherine that a true gentleman always opened the passenger door for his date.
He would take off and put on her coat. He would call on her, instead of
having her to drive to his place. John did all that right at the
get go.
Years
later, Catherine would make a conclusion that guys she dated from the East
Coast and Midwest consistently followed Monika’s description of a “true
gentleman”, and none of the Californian guys she dated followed the rule. Which
of course made her wonder if she had married the right guy from time to time. Catherine’s
husband was born and raised in Southern California, but educated in the east coat.
She thought about taking her husband to meet Monika, to see if he could pass
her test. Yet she never managed to do so, somehow she knew he’d fail miserably.
To
impress John, Catherine asked Monika to teach her a few German phrases, of
which, she practiced the most was ich liebe dich. She thought perhaps
one day it might come in handy with John.
Light as Feather
John knew
what he wanted. He was an aggressive man. Catherine found it charming and
pleasing that he took charge. After the dinner, he dropped her back at
the apartment that she shared with Monika. John said that he’d like to see
where she slept. So Catherine showed him her small bedroom that faced the back
parking lot. As soon as he was inside, He dimmed the lights, and shut the door.
Catherine
had been in short black dress and without any stockings, she had worn a pair of
open toe high heels that night. She felt
like a very young girl next to him. So inexperienced, so juvenile, she was
fumbling for words. Just then John pressed his fingers on her lips, then he
leaned down and kissed her. She was all of sudden made aware of how small
framed she was against his manly body. He had a musky scent, like a man would
smell. He was just over 6 feet tall; he had the soccer player’s built. He was gentle,
forceful and purposed, as if he was approaching a science experiment in a lab.
This made Catherine become even more self-conscious, so she kissed him back as
a way of gaining some reassurance. She felt like a schoolgirl, not because she
was not experienced in sex, but because his calmness, his dominance and
aggression made her feeling unease. She felt nervous yet was secretively
delighted by his imposing ways.
John
carried Catherine to bed, he undressed her and then he went down on her. It was
unexpected. Catherine was shocked by the sensation of closeness, with a man whom
she'd just met. The sensation at first felt like gentle waves washing the
shore. It started with sense of leisure, and increasingly, it became intense, and
then angry, as if a storm was coming, until it erupted dangerously. On one
hand, it was the first date, and she had not expected sex; on the other hand,
she felt safe and natural. Could it be perhaps because he opened her side of
the passenger door to let her into his car that early evening? Perhaps he
brought a bottle of wine for her roommate? Or perhaps it was the way he whispered
“baby” by her ear? They made love that night. It did not feel like fucking,
because it was gentle, it was caring, and she felt the indescribable bond with
this man named John, who was either from Michigan, Indiana, or Illinois.
Afterwards,
she curled up in his broad frame, and fell asleep soundly. She wrapped her arm
around him and felt protected, safe and content. In the middle of the night, he
lifted her up, as if she was feather light, he cradled her. Then he said,
“Baby, I have to leave now, my children would be awake soon.” He never told Catherine
anything about his children. She was too sleepy to register the significance of
it, so instead of saying anything, she just lifted her arms and wrapped her
arms around John for the last time, and kissed him goodbye.
The next
day John emailed. He said that he had a lovely date. He wanted to see Catherine
again, but he had to leave town to go to Switzerland. He said that he’d call
her and tell her everything when they saw each other next.
Catherine
was 23. She didn’t know everything she ought to know in an adult relationship. She
had no one to teach her about sex. She had been on her own for so long all she
knew was survival. She was not that inquisitive, or judgmental for that matter.
She was living day by day; She suspected that John wanted to talk to her about
his children, but she did not really know for sure, and she knew that it didn’t
bother her a bit that he was a father, or whether he was married.
Dating a Father
Catherine
didn’t see John for weeks. She heard from him when he was in Switzerland, he
left her a lengthy and affectionate voicemail, but he didn’t leave her with his
hotel phone number. So she couldn’t return his call, not that she would. She
was not into calling guys. He then called her from Germany. He said that there
was another unplanned trip. He said that he was sorry for not able to see
Catherine sooner. He apologized as if he broke a date that the he had already
set up. But as far as Catherine thought, there was no date set up yet. They had
not made any plans. Catherine knew that she missed him, but she also knew that
he was a real adult, with family obligations and other important things to do.
So she acted nonchalantly and went about her own business, She told herself to
be detached and not to dwell. John had fit Catherine’s physical profile of
those men whom she could fall head over heels with, so she knew instinctively
not to act too rash, and set herself up for failure, just in case John didn’t
really care about her as much as she could care about John.
When he
returned, they went out for dinner again. John paid, again. Catherine knew that
to John, it was important for him to pay. It in a way defined the relationship.
She was to submit, he was to dominate and take charge. She liked the dynamics.
It was new for her. This time John told Catherine that he was in the process of
getting a divorce. He had three teenage children. His soon-to-be-ex wife had moved
to California with him, but he now primarily lived in a suitcase, on the road a
lot, even though he had a corporate condo. Catherine told him that it was
not an issue that he was getting a divorce, or he had children. She liked him
just the way he was. John made her feel special, the way he carried her as if
she was feather light, the way he took charge in their relationship, the way he
dictated how and when they should meet. She liked how he made love to her and
how he treated her - like a lady.
Afterwards,
they returned to his hotel. He told her that for the night, he had gotten a
hotel room in Foster City, his corporate condo had not been set up properly, he
told her. He wanted them to spend a night in a nice hotel. Catherine suspected
that John had a life outside of his suitcase, or the hotel. She envisioned the
condo was packed full with John’s children’s clothes and shoes, even family
photos with his soon-to-be-ex-wife’s in them, and she didn’t want to be part of
it.
That
night they made love until dawn. He told Catherine that he had his
children in his early twenties. His wife had been a nurse and put him through
grad school using her income. But then they grew apart. Catherine didn’t want
to know the details on how and why he was getting a divorce. She knew that he
liked her, and that was enough. She also found out that she was the first Asian
woman he had ever dated. John gave her career advice, which she appreciated. As
much as Monika was a mother to her, Catherine did not have anyone to turn to
when it came to her career. By the time she left Los Angeles for college, her
aunt had moved back to China. She was all on her own.
John also
told Catherine that he had a place in Belize, he would go there on his own,
sometimes with his friends, a pair of married college professors, who lived in
Austin. They would meet up in Texas and then fly down to Belizes and vacation
there. He did not invite Catherine to go with him, and she did not ask to be
invited either.
He was a
father figure to Catherine. She thought of him fondly when he was on the road. He is a father, she would say that to
herself. How cool it was to be with someone who was a father, someone who knew
how to raise children, who was a real adult.
Catherine
did not demand anything. She fit the typical Asian woman stereotype. While she did
the most chasing, and often insisted on paying her way, once she was in a
relationship, she was quite low maintenance. She demanded very little, she was
not assertive as those American women John was accustomed to. She was obedient,
agreeable and quiet. She liked John; in fact she thought she could be in love
with John. Yet, she was a fatalist who was somehow convinced that there would
not be any future, especially with John.
She didn’t get a sense that John was that interested in marriage.
Certainly it couldn’t be with her.
Their encounters
had become regular, but sporadically at the same time. He would make a date,
and then cancel last minute – sometimes it was because of his children, and
other times there were unplanned last
minute business trips that came up. He seemed to be traveling a lot, at least
that was the story Catherine was told. She often got his email just as she was
taking off from work to see him – “Sorry baby, I have to leave for Germany
again. Sorry for ruining our date. I will call you.” John called, sometimes, but most of the time,
he would disappear for a week or two and then resurface again.
Strangely
enough, Catherine never got mad at John. By then she had thought that she loved
him. Unconditionally.
It would later dawn on her that she was often
attracted to men who traveled a lot. Men who were never around, just like her
father was when she was a little girl, before he was arrested and put in jail,
before he was dead. He was never home. Her mother practically raised her on her
own. Her memory of her father was a bit muddled by the time she was a young
woman. She rarely remembered her dad. It was a way of life back then. She
didn’t question it. She never got a chance to wonder, and then both of them
were gone. She did not like to think that she was an orphan, it sounded so
tragic, like the Little Girl with the Matchsticks from Hans Christian Anderson’s
novel, which she refused to be compared with. Catherine thought of herself an
independent young woman, who always knew what she wanted and went after it, and
was relatively successful in her pursuit of happiness and freedom, the real
American way.
Later on Catherine would start seeking
professional help, to help her deal and cope with these unresolved childhood
issues and trauma. To start, her therapist had helped her to look at her dating
patterns. John’s name came up often. Her therapist told her that perhaps she was
not just looking for a father figure with John; she was also trying to repeat
her sad, lonely childhood with each man that came into my life, so that she
could relive it, knowing the ending would be unfulfilling as it once did with
her own life.
John certainly fit the mode.
Key West
Catherine
liked to SCUBA dive. She liked the feeling of being in the deep ocean, all-alone,
surrounded by fish, kelp and rocks. It was therapeutic, peaceful and utterly
transformative. She felt belonged in the deep sea. For a while she flew to Key West to SCUBA dive
on weekends, mostly on her own, although she would invite others male
companions along. None went with her except for John. John was a diver himself.
He was in Miami for a business trip. So he flew down to see her on a trip. They
stayed in a diver's motel. They made love, ate fresh oysters and then dived
together. In the evening John took her to a tropical outdoor restaurant. He
ordered them umbrella drinks, ate fresh Mahi Mahi, and John told Catherine how
beautiful she looked under the stars. She was pleased that she had worn a white
dress.
Back in
San Francisco, everyone wore black. So when Catherine was heading to Key West,
she packed only white dresses. She liked white; it reminded her of her
childhood in China. Where children often wore white in the summer heat. That evening, they gazed at each other under
the shining stars, so far away from the main continent, so far away from
reality. Catherine told John that she
liked these get-away trips, away from home.
What John
did not know, was that Catherine did not plan to meet up with just him. She
casted a wide net. She simply planned her excursions and invited different men
along, in case they could join her. John
was one of those people who received the invitation and he just so happened to
be available and in the area. Catherine was always spontaneous, resourceful and
managed to keep herself busy by dating multiple men at the same time, even
though she loved John. She always believed that one could have multiple
relationships with multiple people at the same time, albeit the emotions ran a
wide range and her attachment with different people varied in degrees. That way there would not be any
disappointment, when one fails, the other(s) moved into the center stage.
Later on her therapist would tell her that
she had deep unresolved abandonment issues resulted from the premature death of
parents. Her coping mechanism was to never be in a situation where she was ever
truly alone.
By the
time they met up in Key West, Catherine had left the semi conductor firm, on
John’s advice, and started working for a national consulting firm, earning
twice as much. She purchased a townhouse in the Upper Peninsula, not far from
the San Francisco airport. Even though the place was nice, she felt that she
did not really have a home; she began to live in a suitcase just like John,
often traveling for projects. She regarded herself a bohemian. She felt that
she finally understood John; they both longed for a home but didn't know where
to find it.
Later on
in life, Catherine would realize that while she was forever attracted to men
who traveled a lot for work; those who traveled a lot for work were also
attracted to her. Perhaps they all had similar longing of escaping from
wherever they were meant to be; perhaps they form a symbiotic relationship, one
that fed off each other - they kept each other alive, somehow.
That evening
John told Catherine about his failed marriage and his love for SCUBA
diving. He told Catherine that that was why he bought a place in Belize, because
it had amazing, untainted, unspoiled dive sites. "Like you, untainted
and unspoiled". He would say, brushing his hand gently across her
forehead, his other arm held tight around her tiny waist, they walked like that
for a while after dinner, in the quiet cobble stoned streets of Key West,
feeling the warm salty breeze of a typical Caribbean evening. Catherine was
half hoping that he'd invite her to Belize, it
was about time, she thought to herself, but that topic never came up.
She knew
that she was in love, with this man, this man who seemed to see the best side
of her, who compared her to the dive sites in Belize.
The Last Time
Then
summer became fall. It was an Indian summer evening. She had gotten an email
from John early that morning. “Baby, I’m
back in town for a night. Can we meet?” By then Catherine was staffed on a
project in Folsom, just outside of Sacramento. Three and half hours later, she
drove into Peninsula, where John had a hotel for the evening. A few weeks ago,
Catherine had just bought this beautiful two-piece red lingerie, which she had
never worn. She was wearing it for him that evening. John ordered room service
but they couldn’t eat. There was a sense of urgency. She found herself kissing
John passionately, as if this was the last time. John responded back the same
way, he stripped her clothes and took her furiously, soundlessly. Their lips
were locked the whole time he was inside of her. After he came inside of her, he
went down on her, brought her spasm of orgasm, for the second time. She felt
depleted after, and yet, unlike other times, she felt incomplete and nostalgic.
She was also restless, even though she should be falling asleep, as she would
ordinarily be doing after two satisfying orgasms.
“I was
his girl. Part time girl, anyway.”
Catherine thought to herself, lying awake next to John quietly. John held her
tighter than usual; he was also quiet but alert and awake. Catherine found
herself finally saying ich liebe dich. It was more of a whisper that was
met with silence. But she knew John heard it, because he responded by tightening
his grip. He squeezed her so tight she barely could breath. Then out of
nowhere, all of sudden Catherine was wailing. Instinctively, somehow, she knew that
this would be the last time.
John
seemed to agree. He wiped away her tears, and as he did the first time they
slept together, he cradled her. He then said, “I know that I couldn’t give what
you want. You are still young. You will get married one day, have family of
your own. I’m not your guy. I’m so sorry.”
Catherine
wanted to say “No I don’t ever want to get married or have children. I just
want to be with you”, but she didn’t say anything. She knew John would not
take no for an answer. He would not change his mind.
To John,
Catherine was not a party girl. She never was. Unlike the other men whom she
had encountered in the past, and subsequently after John, who often called her
“the party girl”, who claimed that she would never settle down, who only went
out with her to have some sexual fantasy fulfilled, John saw this responsible,
serious career girl, who was sweet, considerate, and accommodating, who would
one day be married and have children of her own. Catherine had never met a man
like him. For that she was grateful. She cried not only because he couldn’t
give her what she wanted, but also because John saw the best of her, the side she
didn’t even know existed. She cried because she felt that she was indebted to
him, for giving her the faith she didn't have for herself.
They fell
asleep in each other’s arms, John held her tight, she could feel that he was
saying goodbye with his tight grip. The next morning she left in a hurry,
before John was awake, she had to drive for three and half hours back to
Folsom. She forgot to pack her underwear. The red bottom piece of the lingerie
was presumably left in his hotel room. Catherine kept the bra for a long time,
and never wore it again. Whenever she
saw the bra, she thought about John, and how he embraced her and cared about
her, and treated her with respect, and envisioned a future for her that she
couldn't even picture at the time. A normal future. A hopeful future.
After
John, Catherine didn’t meet anyone who saw that side of her for several years. She
continued to maintain her party girl image, and dated many men at the same time.
Though she always kept in touch with John. They emailed and did lunches. But
John never caressed her the way she craved. John treated her as this young career
woman, respectable and motivated, someone whom he cared deeply as a friend.
Catherine
sank into a deep depression one year after yet another failed romantic
relationship. She was out snowboarding in Lake Tahoe one day, and she saw John.
He was with his three children. His truck parked just in front of her Audi. She
almost thought of saying hi to him, but she wondered what he’d think of her, or
rather, what his children would think of her. So she just walked away.
By then
John had moved into a house in Foster City, he was fully divorced, and traveled
practically all the time. Catherine emailed him the next day. “I saw you in Sugar Bowl, you and your three
kids.” He returned her email right away, “Why didn’t you say hi? I’d love to introduce you to my children.” Catherine
told him that she didn’t feel comfortable being seen by his children, all were
taller than her and not much younger. He said that they were overdue for a
lunch date.
The Lunch
That
lunch date did not come until a year later. John emailed Catherine over the
course of that year, he made plans, and then canceled them last minute, just
like when they first dated. Catherine
reacted the same way as she did before, nonchalantly, never made a fuss, never
complained, and she always replied politely, “Have a great trip, let’s do it another time”.
Then a year passed and he finally made the lunch date happen.
They went
to ABC Seafood, a dim sum place in Foster City. Catherine sat there,
dutifully, waiting for John’s arrival. He was running late, and was walking
briskly towards her when she saw him. He walked over to her side of the table
and apologized furiously and then gave her bear hug. Catherine thought
that she would crave and long for his touch but that feeling didn’t come. She
felt relieved at that moment.
They
carried on small talks. John asked how she was doing. Catherine told him that
she met someone. “It could be serious. I
might marry him.” He said, “That’s great!” He seemed genuinely happy
for her.
He told
Catherine that he had met a Swedish woman himself, through an online dating
site; she had been divorced and had three children of the same age as his
own. She was his age, and they had gone to Belize together, with all six
children.
Catherine
realized at that moment that she was never the Belize material. She was feeling
disappointed and sad, yet she knew that this was an outcome to be expected. He
was not looking to be serious with her; she was not the type to settle down
with. But there was something special with him, an invisible bond. “Maybe I was the only person who was bonded
to him.” Catherine was feeling melancholy.
“I trusted him implicitly and I
loved him.” She was feeling all of sudden angry with herself, that anger
rose unexpectedly, and she found herself shaking under the table.
“It was
the best experience I had.” John said suddenly. Catherine thought he was
referring to the Belize trip with his girlfriend, so she responded by saying,
“That’s wonderful!”
“No, Catherine, I meant what you and I had.” He said solemnly.
She stopped trembling under the table and temporarily forgot about her
anger.
“You were
the first person I knew when I first moved here.” He continued.
“I loved
you. But I couldn’t give you you wanted. “ He was getting misty eyed.
Catherine felt awkward. She looked around just to make sure that no one
was listening in on this conversation.
“You need
a family of your own. I knew that I couldn’t provide that for you. Thank you
for being so wonderful and so considerate. I was a jerk. I came in and out of
your life, often canceling on our dates. I was not in a good place then. But I
loved you. I always will, I think.”
She
looked at him, this time, with bravery, still tentative; she raised her eyes to
meet his. Catherine detected for the first time that he had those impossibly
green eyes, sandy brown hair, a square jaw, and prominent nose. He looked very
Germanic. She felt a little physical tug, that intense feeling that she
would later feel whenever she saw someone who looked like him.
When
Catherine started to see her therapist later on in her life, her therapist told
her that we didn’t control whom we were attracted to. It was sort of a genetic
DNA imprint. We got imprinted by a certain type. We might not end up with our
type, but we all had that type, the type that caused a stir, the physical pain,
whenever we met our imprint, or when we were apart from that person, or when we
knew that it was never meant to be, yet we felt that magnetic pull. It was not a
feeling that we could suppress or control. It’s the action that we could
control. Catherine would then counter by telling her therapist, that actions
were not often controllable either, if the feeling was strong enough.
To John,
Catherine was never the wild party girl whom no one would marry. He thought
that he was not good enough for her. Yet Catherine thought he was so much more
superior. She thought SHE was not good enough for John. How strange. Millions
of different feelings came up at the same time.
They never saw each other again.
Never
Light as Feather again
Catherine
married the man she told John about. She now had two children of her own. She
still loved Germanic Midwesterners. Whenever she met them, she felt a physical
pull; it was not something that she could rationalize. It was involuntary. She
had stepped out of her marriage for those moments. She couldn’t control those
impulses. She maintained a separate life outside of her marriage, one that
allowed her to indulge. Each time she attempted to recreate the same experience
she had with John. She found solace in knowing that she had a release valve,
one that she pulled whenever she felt angry with herself. That magnetic pull to
those men would stay with her, for the rest of her life. She knew that much.
Catherine
wondered about John from time to time. He must have been in fifties, perhaps
retired to Belize, married to his Swedish girlfriend. All of their children would
have been out of the house by now. They would live an idyllic life in Belize,
SCUBA dived to their hearts' content. They would hold hands, each day,
walk on the sunny beach, John’s arms around hers, breathing in the tropical
air, as she once did with John in Key West, happy as a clam, happy as any
American early-retirees living in Belize would be.
Despite her trying, she had never been carried away
by anyone like John again, the way he carried her as if she was feather light.
She wondered if she would ever feel that way again…
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