parts of the middle

i'm not sure where to start--i mean, i guess it's time to explore the middle of my relationship w/ the Belgian boy, but it's hard to think of exactly what to capture. there were many moments that were interesting, confusing, sweet, strange, and 'other' that i could recount, so i guess i'll just tell stories, even though it might get messy.

i've chatted w/ him since i began writing about us and it's funny b/c he thought our initial seriousness was funny. it's true actually. we were being ridiculously serious. what a strange thing.
on my end, i know i was serious about not wanting serious. i didn't want a deep relationship--at that point, it had only been about 6 months since the devastating explosion rendered by my ex-husband. when i had met the Belgian, i wasn't even positive if my divorce was final. i wondered if i was still a "Mrs.". it was bizarre. i often joked w/ my girlfriends about just having some casual sex w/ pretty boys until i could feel like a pretty girl again. this facetious talk was obviously not what i wanted, but talking in this way somehow made it easier to avoid. i knew that that kind of behavior would rip my tattered shreds into an unrecognizable form.
on his end, he was leaving. he had avoided dating anyone in Korea b/c of some leftover ex issues. also, he has his European notions of 'long-term' when going out w/ anyone. he hadn't met anyone for the first 9 months of his time in Korea and had no intention of beginning something he couldn't pursue for a time. when we met and connected in the way we did, i'm not precisely sure what he was thinking. despite the implications that were contrary to his sensibilities, he wanted to see where it would go.
he probably had the healthier attitude about relationships at that point, but hell--i'm in recovery, and long-term anything still makes me want to take flight.

but irrespective of the fact that i wanted nothing really substantive, i am a serious fucking person.
we are both serious fucking people.
we ended up having a number of serious conversations about what it would mean to have a fling. it was serious business.

the initial sweetness in his manner and our romance was--i'm not sure what the adjective is here... quite... pleasantly innerving? and actually very startling to me. the soft considerations and caring gestures and romantic et ceteras threw me off balance. it felt foreign, but gratifying.
after the years of coldness with which i had been treated w/ by my ex, it was very odd to be treated w/ this kind of thoughtfulness. it was odd that he wanted to spend time w/ me. it was odd that he got my jokes. it was odd that he thought i was pretty and interesting and wisecracked constantly in an effort to get me naked. i was still trying to get my head wrapped around the idea that i might not be a terrifyingly ugly and horrible wicked witch of a woman.

i had been planning a sunny warm trip in Asia somewhere w/ a friend over a blustering cold long weekend in January. in the last week, she bailed b/c she wanted to spend some time w/ her mother in Hong Kong, so i was left w/o a travel partner and a long weekend to fill. i was sad and plaintive about this b/c there are so few Korean holidays to take weekend trips over.

the Belgian boy was going on a trip w/ his friend from out of town that weekend and asked if i wanted to come along. the idea of going on a trip w/ two men and no other women was a little blah blah to me, but i wanted to spend time w/ him and not be stuck in Seoul. i accepted.

it was one of the coldest weekends i had experienced in Korea to date. i had just lost my gloves and in my haste to pack, i had forgotten my hat. when we found each other outside of the bus terminal, i had been eyeing the stand of hats and mittens across the way. the Belgian boy bought me the warm gray hat that now sits on my bookshelf.
though he was constantly complaining about the cold, he had refused to buy a hat until that day b/c he thought he looked funny in them--but, it was too damn cold. the kind of cold that makes your skin feel like stretched plastic after a minute of exposure. he bought himself a cute little green one that i had to adjust for him whenever he donned it throughout the trip. and after the trip, for that matter.

there were some boring missteps that occurred on the trip that will be too laborious to recount, but there were a few poignant moments we had as we traveled that weekend.
when we first boarded the bus and got comfortably situated, i flipped up the arm rest so it wouldn't encumber our space. writing about this just now reminds me of the many times i did that w/ my ex-husband.
when i put my leg over the Belgian's in that cushy bus seat, it felt natural. i remember having a slight, but pleasant pang at this point; i thought about how this was the first trip i was taking w/ another man and that there probably would be other men. this made me smile. i believe he queried about why i was smiling, but i refused to disclose. i don't like someone in that deep all the time.
he was wearing a gray sweater over a vintage shirt that i wanted to steal from him. we talked quietly and eventually he got over his cultural apprehensions about boundaries. he held my hand and we shared a few kisses in the semi-darkness.
my heart felt ok.

we ended up in a ramshackled little town in a ramshackled little bar and drank beer and soju. a strange little Irishman joined us. he had a nervous agitated manner about him and shared about some mysterious health issues that he had. he talked about how these issues had prohibited him from completing a mountain hike and how painful that had been for him. while he talked, i leaned over to the Belgian's ear and began whispering something about these eccentricities when he stopped me:
"hang on, i want to hear the rest of this guy's story"
this warmed me. it was endearing to see the attentiveness on his face as he listened to this funny little man's story.

the next day we strode in bright sun, past the stark folds of the rising mountains in this slapdash little Korean town. the air was sharp on our cheeks as we examined the vast landscape. there wasn't much around to do and it was too cold to hike, so we ended up drinking espressos and tea in a cute little coffee shop.
the dark brown couches we sat on were immensely comfortable and i shoved my cold toes under his legs as we stretched back and read books until the sun began to set. my book made me giggle (there was something about a rotund woman with a five o'clock shadow) and i enjoyed peering over my knees and watching his eyes quickly scanning his pages. this sleepy lethargy was comfortable and felt like it was nicely worn. a broken in pair of jeans.
my heart felt ok.