Language of Love - 9. Chapter 9: "Don't Believe in Fairy Tales"

Chapter 9: “Don’t Believe in Fairy Tales”

“The two lovers met up on the idyllic banks of the old Canadian city near the river. It was a perfect day without any clouds, only endless blue skies. The birds chirped with magical melodies that inflamed desires in the young and enriches the emotions in the old. The lovers looked around, hoping beyond hope to find their other half to complete this perfect day. Their eyes caught each other, filled with desire and lust. They tried to compose words as they approached, but nothing could come from their lips. When they were mere inches apart, their faces began to dive in, soaking in the rapturous joy of their love being fulfilled. Their tongues melted in each other’s mouths, hands explored each other’s back, and their hips gyrated in a perfect rhythm. Their embrace grew more intense and their clothing began to go away piece by piece until….”

Isn’t that the scene everyone wants? I know it would be what I would love to experience with the love of my life. So what if the possibility of finding one person in 5.4 million in Toronto is minute or the perfect ideal setting in that area is usually marred by weather patterns localized due to the great lakes, it is a romantic scene. I would love to forget about societal pressures and bask in full lustful exploration and sexual exuberance, because there are no rules when you are in love with someone. Yet, like the short description above, it’s all an illusion.

There’s something about gay fairy tales that hold towards a certain motif: a chance meeting, a perfect romantic setting, and the buildup to hot steamy sex that would make gay porn studios like Bel Ami and Falcon look like afterschool specials on safe sex. Let’s be completely honest, how many guys reading this entry ever had hot steamy sex at a random location, in perfect conditions, and really found absolute bliss. A fairy tale usually holds happiness for all characters at the end of it, but reality is no fairy tale, especially love.

I got home last night without ever seeing him in Toronto or hearing from him during my time away. I checked his skype screen name and he was inactive. A thought did occur in me to attempt contact. It was my fault for not taking in the nuances of his words, not letting my romanticism take hold of rational thought, and denying me a spur of the moment change in plans. I had never been an active guy in my pursuit of lovers, but I was in the wrong in this case.

I typed his contact profile on my cell phone and began messaging:

------------------------------------------

Me: Hey I’m back

--------------------------------------------

As I waited for a reply, I could feel the pressure building in my heart and mind. I don’t know why I should care, but I did. There was no real sexual bond between us, which can partly be blamed on me for not taking the hint. I guess there was disconnect in my mind and what I read versus what was beneath what I read.

Chinese words are that way, both in Cantonese of Mandarin. I guess you can almost compare it to Italian in terms of subtle allusions. When one references folklore and legends in Chinese tradition, you are not merely thinking of the past, but also directing it towards the present and future. Sometimes, I wonder if my time in the US has weakened my ability to perceive time in the Chinese sense, beyond merely isolated tenses of past, present, and future, but the grand continuum of referential and cyclical patterns.

After hours of no response, I had no choice left except to give up. Am I an idiot for being able to perceive a potential opening, but unwilling to pursue further? I don’t know. Part of me wanted him to wait for me, one more day even if it wasn’t the Chinese Valentine’s day, because if you really love someone, then gimmicks do not matter. This is something universal about love that I understand, but do not hold dear to my heart.

On my trip through Canada, there was one place that has lingered in mind for the last few days, one of the thousand islands off the St. Lawrence River. The story of Boldt Castle is tragic, but the meaning behind it should be a testament of love.

George Boldt admired the area as a summer vacation ground, which I can equally attest. The flora is spectacular in the region bordering upstate New York and the Canadian province of Quebec and Ontario. Due to the Great Lakes, there are occasional showers that help vegetation thrive even though it is not a tropical climate. George Boldt eventually wanted to build something on the island estate that he owned. At first it was merely a small cottage, but he later wanted to give his wife a grand gift after several trips in Europe inspired him to build a North American castle. He asked that 365 windows would be built into the classic castle design; one for each day in order for his wife to view him in a new light. He also had the groundskeepers cut the trees into heart shapes for his wife to view every morning, when they were on the island viewing the castle’s progress. Alas, his wife died in 1904 before the castle was finished. George out of a sense of lost stopped the construction and never again went back to the Thousand Island region.

Most people thought of this story as merely a tragedy of a man, who moved heaven and earth for his wife, but could not change the inevitable frailty of human life. For me, Boldt showed his love for his wife by every detail even in his inactions after her death. The Chinese have a description for men like George Boldt, “Chang qing”, meaning literally “Long love”. The idiomatic meaning however is that someone holds deep romantic links with their lover despite the changes in time, space, and even death itself. That story of love and a man holding onto his love is still on my mind, when I think about what I would do if I could be with someone. If I had the means to, I would build that castle just like he did.

So what did I do after the failure? I went back online and looked for another guy. I was horny and tired from hours of travelling, so I wasn’t picky with whoever it was. There was also a nagging pain in my heart and soul that needed to be filled with something or someone. It’s always been in me, but it aches every time when there is a failure in my love life. I can’t honestly read the future and tell you all that I will find a guy for myself one day. Maybe I will always be alone, trapped like the thousands of other online gay men, who longs for something. Maybe, I should be damned for my own mistakes, miscalculations, and failures in interpreting the signs. I do not know what the best ways to describe my failures are, but I guess in the end it does not matter.

Some of you guys may have hoped for another ending, so did I. I wish things were different, more fairy tale like. I wish I could be a better man than I am, but I know I am not. I wish he could have given me more time, but he did not. Perhaps, this relationship was destined to fail from the start, when I was about to type its improbable odds of success. Yet, we tried and kept going through all those different struggles from communication to cultural variances, from politics to religion, and the entire minutia that comes along with romance.

I just got another email from a potential guy:

----------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: RE: Fun time nsa- 27

Hey,

You sound cool and chill.

I am 27, 6’5, Hispanic, df, bi

I can host tonight

-----------------------------------------------------------------

So, it begins again…

I parallel this story to my reality, so when it ends, then it ends. Love can come for mere moments, then disappears without fanfare or redemption.

I kept this story realistic and grounded based on reality, I could have turned this into any other story with tens or even hundreds of thousands of words, complex character arcs, nuclear weapons, or even a happy ending. I didn't name my characters, so you guys can find yourselves in my shoes. Sure you may not be a gay Chinese guy, you can be Thai, French, White, Black, Bi,Trans, or anything that separates you from other potential lovers.

Life is not always filled with happy endings for every gay guy; at least not me. I want this story to be realistic down to the true ending. I am sorry if I disappointed the romantics or the fans of this story, but my goal was realism and modernity in this story, which can be summarized as Complex and brief.

The End