Hiding and Loving: Part 3

This post is written in honor of virtual Pride 2020 events happening throughout the month of June in lieu of the protests and parades that normally happen this month.

In the couple of weeks that followed, I let her stay over—but I made her stay in the living room and I slept in my bed alone. She took me out to elaborate all-you-can-eat buffet dinners and to the movies. We went to the lesbian bar Joy and drank too much. I taught her how to swim at a water park with our mutual friends one day.

Since I promised her that I would give it a month of dating before we decided on being girlfriends or not, she reminded me frequently that we started seeing each other on June 1^st.

The July 1^st deadline was looming large on the calendar.

I went back and forth about dating on a daily basis. Should I stay or should I go? She was way too clingy and needy, and yet… I was not willing to let go.

Finally, in true avoidant fashion, I decided to let her decide. I would tell her that I’ll date her exclusively if she’s okay with breaking up when I leave. Otherwise, we can be friends with benefits or just friends.

On June 30^th, when I told her I was leaving in October and we would have to break up then, she started to cry.

“I know, it sucks, but you know love is pain, love is suffering. There’s no way around it. We can still enjoy the time we have left as a couple, or friends with benefits (paoyao),[1] or just friends. It’s your choice. I’m okay with either option,” I told her, a little desperate, trying to convince her to keep seeing me. 

She paused to think about it for a while, and then said, “I don’t want to be your paoyou. I want to date you. I want to be your partner (duixiang).[2] I’ve never depended on anyone like this before. You make me feel like a girl. Let’s do this.”

We were officially official.

My stomach did a little flip flop and I wondered if I made the right decision. Maybe I should have been more adamant about the paoyou thing, I thought silently to myself.

The next day I got a dozen red roses delivered to my house with a note: “Love is suffering.”

I wanted to barf. I didn’t want her to spend money on me because I didn’t want to feel obligated to her. I didn’t want to feel special.

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[1]  炮友

[2] 对象