Solo Love Ballad

A lot of the time, I’m a drifter around. Traveling, sleeping, browsing the internet, and dating. These things are what I love to do. My fingers frequently wander across dating apps. It is as routine as three meals daily, especially when feeling lonely and bored. It helps ease my sense of solitude. The loneliness that sometimes chases us with nowhere to escape. I find myself sinking in while simultaneously seeking a way out. Just like those strangers on dating apps who appear in our lives by chance, stay for a moment, and then vanish. Some people linger longer before disappearing, too. The void they leave in my heart grows into a fragile yet beautiful plant. Its roots are deeply embedded in damp, fragrant soil. Max is a native Frenchman working as an expat in Hong Kong’s financial sector. He’s not typically my type, but he fits mainstream beauty standards quite well: thick curly hair, defined facial features, plus he’s 6′1" (186cm), fit, and tanned—the type you’d expect to find at the beach on any given day. Because his smile was so infectious, I decided to swipe right on him, and to my surprise, we matched. Max took the initiative to exchange w******p contacts quickly. And after one day of chatting, he suggested meeting up. I was bored anyway, so I agreed to dinner on Thursday. He waited for me outside the restaurant and greeted me with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. He looked even better in person than in his photos. Though he had a French accent, his English and voice were incredibly pleasant. After we sat down, he asked:" What about my first impression of him?” I joked: " I was about to ask when we could get married.” He laughed heartily before responding that he had already thought of names for our children. He playfully flirted back with me like that, and it felt like I’d met my match. I had already sensed something special about Max on the dating app. He never pried into personal details and rarely engaged in small talk. You’d never hear from his questions like “How was your day?” While others were scratching the surface. Max was already trying to reach deep into my mind. Stirring up parts that I hadn’t been touched in a long time. After a few drinks, he asked me:" Have you ever dated a French man before?” I candidly shared my previous dating story with him. After hearing he said: “Wow, he almost fooled you.” Looking at his face, he said:” it was lucky I had checked his trash. What guy would use condoms for DIY projects?” Looking back, I hadn’t managed my conversation boundaries well then. Something wasn’t appropriate to share with a date. Especially about other people I was dating simultaneously. It could give off the impression of “casting a wide net” and not being serious, but Max didn’t show any signs of judgment or displeasure. After some thought, I told him another dating story. Given the Platonic nature of that relationship and the fact that we hadn’t been in contact for several days. Max concluded that this man must have another woman on his mind. “It must be that ex-girlfriend without a doubt.” He listened and commented along. And his sincere attention gave me all the emotional validation I needed. Since I had courses the next day, we ended the date right after dinner. Max said: " I had a great time tonight and wanted to kiss you, but I won’t do it today.” “I thought you might still have that French guy obsessed with his ex-girlfriend on your mind. I’m in no rush. When you’ve figured things out, I won’t hold back next time.” His tone was half-joking but also very sincere. After our first date, Max politely texted message: “I’ve had a great time, and what about your weekend plans?" Generally, such messages indicate that the person is quite interested in you. While I was still wondering if meeting again the next evening would be too soon. " Hmm..I've no idea, do you have any suggestions?" He mentioned: "My friend's restaurant will have a soft opening. Would you be interested in joining me ?" I liked people who were willing to introduce their friends right away. I wanted to go. After all, one person can pretend, but they can’t make all their friends pretend along with them. The following Friday, I received a message from that French man, whom I mentioned him when I had dinner with Max. “ Hi, Fye, sorry work has been crazy these two days. Still at the office now, but do you want to have a glass of wine together later?” Looking at the time, it was just after 9pm, “I am in central now.” I replied. The opposite side immediately showed TYPING. “Do you want to meet at a bar in soho? I could come to see you.” He walked into the pub dressed as he had been on Monday morning, all classy. He loosened his tie and asked me, “ Do you feel it different seeing me in formal wear for the first time?” “Actually, It’s the second time. That morning that you had scraped past me like the wind, ignoring me without a second glance.” He looked down and smilied coyly. “How have you been the last two days?”He asked. “ I had a new dating.” I was being very honest replied. He didn’t seem surprised and nodded, saying, "Being young is great, you can date different people without needing to settle down too quickly." After a moment, he added, "It's a good thing your date tonight didn’t have a spark, or else we wouldn’t be sitting here drinking together now." "Do we have a spark between us?" I asked him back. “There’s definitely something.” He said. “What would be like your ideal partner?” “They should be simple and happy. Love shouldn't be so complicated." Seeing the hint of doubt on my face, he quickly added, "Of course, everyone is different. But I'm already old; I feel like I won't experience any earth-shattering love anymore. Even if there is love, it will be like water—flowing yet tranquil." I spent the night at the French man’s place. Despite a few days without contact, something subtle had changed between us. It was like we’d been walking in perfect harmony but suddenly started moving awkwardly, like using our hands and feet at the same time. I wasn’t sure how much of it was because of him, how much was because Max had started occupying space in my mind. I wasn’t ready to be a “sea empress” yet. That ability to pick up and let go quickly still needed more practice. On Saturday night, I met Max at his friend’s restaurant. He came out to greet me with a kiss on the cheek, then put his arm around my waist as he led me inside. He was introducing me to each of his friends. I didn’t remember any of their names, only that more than half were French. Everyone was very chill and kindly switched to English when I appeared. It was a social situation that even an INTJ like me could handle comfortably. After we had eaten and drunk, the restaurant became noisier. Max probably sensed my social battery was running low and suggested we go somewhere else for another drink. After spending 15 minutes saying goodbye to his friends, we left the restaurant. The hot and humid air outside made it difficult to breathe. Max pulled at the front of his shirt to fan himself, unconsciously walking faster. In the meantime, I had trouble keeping up. When we reached a downhill stretch, he looked back at me and joked, “Want a piggyback ride for those short legs?” I held out my arms, and he crouched down to let me hop on. Before I knew it, my chest was pressed against his back, and I could feel the steam radiating from his body and the sticky sweat on his neck. It wasn’t exceptionally comfortable, but it felt very primal, full of s****l tension. He started jogging, creating a slight cooling breeze. At the bottom of the hill, I asked him to put me down. The dim lights illuminated the closed street stalls, and the heated atmosphere between us reached its peak. The air was filled with a subtle current, and it was as if every breath heightened the tension and sweetness in the atmosphere. Up close, Max's chin was right above my head, and as he looked down, his nose almost touched me. "Are you sure?" he asked in a deep and low voice, his Adam's apple moving slightly. I closed my eyes a little, a shy smile playing on my lips—a silent invitation to Max. His moist, tender lips softly enveloped my senses at that moment, tingling sensation.