I talked to Max one night. And he changed his schedule to come back to town earlier to meet me. He was even willing enough to book a double room for me. Too bad that’s not what I had in mine.
Upon meeting him, I realized he wasn’t that cocky, confidently attractive Canadian guy that I imagined. The attractiveness is still there but I could see from his wandering eyes and timid hidden smile whenever I look straight at him the shyness of an introverted guy approaching his 30s. He’s got a gentle way of touching and embracing new things.
“I did test and my confidence has been rising over time, you know,” Max spoke as I could sense his breath rushing through the gap between his two front teeth. “… and you are super extroverted.”
No, I’m not. I do think actually I’m very shy. Throw me in that class I’m taking, for instance, I’m more like the odd, quite and awkward one, or maybe that’s how it’s always been. But just like Max’s point has been rising over time, I’ve learnt how to camouflage, to put on different character to get along with the big group called society and to be seen as someone with active social life (and probably sex life).
But all of those coming to senses happened a bit too late. I set him up for a threeway with me and Fiji Bear, thinking it would be an enjoyable time for us all. But when I moved to put a kiss on his lips, the relunctance was there. Slowly he pulled away and made an excuse to leave, leaving me with disappointment since I was built to this level of excitement, having no signs he would back out in the end, and feeling like I was failing another version of myself in my early teen.