Some of the may remember me talking about Ashley. Along similar lines to that is the story of Alma, the girl from the bus trip. I guess the best place to start would be from the beginning.
The first time I saw her I was waiting with Nuria, my Spanish friend, for the bus in the lobby of the hotel. Alma was rushing through the lobby with her German roommate Sophie, both of them having just woken up, slightly late, for the same bus trip. I can’t say that I thought all that much about Alma at first. I’ve never been all that big on love at first sight. But, as she lay there across from me on the bus, curled up and sleeping on the seats, I couldn’t help but think there was a certain something about her. Of course at this point I still had no idea who she was. I didn’t even know her name yet.
It wasn’t until we were back in Beijing that I really started to get to know this tiny little French girl that had caught my eye over the course of the trip. The more I spent time with her, the more I realized how fantastic she really was. Not only was she beautiful, she was also smart, funny, and just the right amount of crazy. Sitting next to her on the train ride to Inner Mongolia I had more than a passing interest in her. But, by the time that we were riding back to Beijing, her asleep with her head in my lap, I was fully infatuated with her.
Soon after we returned to Beijing the three European women moved out of the dorm and into their own flat. I was their unofficial 4th housemate and spent most all of my time over there eating, studying, watching movies, and just hanging around. After having spent so much time with the three ladies, my aim of pursuing Alma started to fade. I had found three fantastic friends, and I worried that going after one of them could damage all of that. I was reserved to forget about my growing feelings towards Alma and just keep her as a friend. That was until that one fateful night.
Sophie and Nuria had gone out for the evening, leaving only me and Alma in the flat. We spent most of the night sitting at the kitchen table talking about anything and everything. When Sophie, Nuria, and Alma had moved into the new flat I had been giving a standing offer to crash on their couch whenever I wanted to, and as it approached 3 am I decided to take them up on that offer, until I got a better offer from Alma to share her bed. To this day she still asserts that since there was no blanket for me on the couch she didn’t want me to be cold. She says that she was just trying to be friendly and had no ulterior motives for inviting me into her bed. But, after cuddling up with her in bed, with our bodies pressed against one another, she was the one to turn around and kiss me first.
We stayed up until 7 in the morning, eventually getting 2 hours of sleep before heading to the second half of classes at 10. I still didn’t know what it all meant, but I was happy none the less. I didn’t even know if it was just a one time thing or not. But those thoughts were quickly put to rest when we spent another night together a few nights later. Eventually we had the talk, and she explained how she wasn’t looking for a relationship and didn’t want to feel tied down. So we agreed to a sex-buddy relationship. And all seemed to go well. There were some rough patches, as anyone would expect, but nothing all that serious.
We grew closer and closer, and I spent more and more nights over at her place (I spent so many nights there that I barely ever saw my second roommate). But it eventually got to the point that we had to tone it back a little. We had another talk, as she worried that I wanted more than our sex-buddy relationship. She also expressed her desire for a little more space, and her need to sleep alone more often. I reassured her that our current situation was all that I wanted, and I agreed with her (i.e. lied) that I should sleep at the dorm more often. The real truth was that I hated sleeping at the dorm. It was cold, sterile, and lonely. It couldn’t possibly compare with being curled up next to her at night, and waking up with her in the morning. Those late night walks back to the dorm were some of the saddest trips I had to make.
In January during our two week trip to the south of China (which was just the two of us this time) I felt the two of us grow even closer. And upon returning I became an official 4th flat mate as I moved out of the dorm. That was until I was relegated to the Brits’ flat when her friend from Paris came for a visit. She tried to keep our sex-buddy relationship from him, which really did hurt me at first. But eventually he was told about it, and I was welcomed back to sleep at the flat once again. I thought that with that we had crossed the hardest hurdle we’d have to face (well the hardest one before having to say goodbye), but I was wrong.
All along we had never officially been together. It was an open sex-buddy relationship, and we were free to see other people if we wanted to. I personally never had that desire, but I knew there was a chance that she might at some point. I tried to convince myself that I was ok with that, and that everything would be fine if that ever did happen, but deep down I knew that wasn’t true. And when Alma returned back to the flat at noon one morning, after having spent the night at a Japanese guy’s place, I was finally forced to come to terms with the relationship we were in. After some time spent thinking it was my turn to have a talk with her. I explained how I cared for her a lot, and I still wanted to be close friends with her, but that I couldn’t do our sex-buddy relationship anymore. It was one of the hardest decisions that I had to come to, but I just wasn’t the type of guy who could be in a relationship like that. Apparently her feelings for me had grown too, because she didn’t want to give up what we had. Knowing full well that a normal relationship wouldn’t work (I was heading home in less than 3 weeks), we agreed on a compromise. We decided to be exclusive sex-buddies. We still weren’t technically together, but we just wouldn’t sleep with other people.
Of course, after the busy month of traveling with Alma, dealing with her houseguest, and dealing with the Japanese incident I was finally examined my true feelings for her. With less than two weeks left before I had to go back to the states I confessed to her something that deep down I had known for quite sometime, even if I wasn’t willing to admit it to myself. Knowing full well that she didn’t feel quite the same about me I told her that I loved her. I knew that I was leaving soon and that even if she did feel the same way it would never be able to work, but I felt I had to tell her how I felt, how much she meant to me, and how much I was going to miss her when it came time to say goodbye.
We spent the last 2 weeks almost constantly together, trying to get the most out of what little time was left. I spent what little spare time I could frantically trying to finish my parting gift for her, a hand-copied version of my diary I had kept during my time over there. I highlighted all the important events in our relationship and through some semi-sleepless nights and a couple of lies about what I was actually doing I finished working on it with a day to spare. I know it wasn’t much, but I wanted to leave her with something personal to remember me by. Something she could hopefully look back through and remember the good times we had had together in China.
My last day in Beijing we woke up a little later than we had planned, and I realized that my flight left an hour earlier than I had originally thought, giving us an hour less than we had originally thought to finish up the little things and say goodbye. In some ways it almost made the goodbye easier as I had to run around more so I couldn’t think about what was about to come, but nothing could really make it an easy goodbye. The taxi ride to the airport was a sad one (despite it being about an hour ride to the airport Alma came with me in order to see me off), and at the first check point where we had to part she gave me a big hug and really started to cry. I’m not usually one to cry at goodbyes, but at that airport I shed my fair share of tears too. And truthfully it wasn’t just at the airport. As much as I tried to stay happy and enjoy my last weeks with Alma there were the occasional evenings when I would tear up thinking about having to leave her so soon. Even now as I think about that goodbye I can’t help but get watery eyed.
Maybe it was the finality of the whole thing (even when we both go back home we’ll still be an ocean apart, and who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again), maybe it was because we had spent so much time together over the last two months (from the trip to living at her place there were very few days that she wasn’t a part of), or maybe it was because of the fact that we were forced to part at what seemed to be the peak of our relationship, never having had a falling out or anything of the sort. But that was the hardest goodbye I have ever had (and probably ever will have). I couldn’t sleep at all on the plane, and even at home I couldn’t sleep normally for weeks as I tried to adjust to sleeping without her next to me.
I think what it really all came down to was how much she meant to me during my time over there, and how much she still means to me. I’ve never grown so close to someone else in such a short period of time. She got me eating healthier and taught me how to cook better (although my attempts at salads and sauces back home haven’t been nearly as good). She got me to exercise more, swimming two to three times a week. She exposed me to so much more music (including some French bands that I can’t get enough of now) and so many movies that I had never seen before (a large portion of them being American even). I spent countless days curled up under the blanket with her watching movies. And she’s the first and only person that I’ve been able to sleep curled up with comfortably for an entire evening. She was there for me through all my most difficult times, including both my mental/emotional breakdowns and all my back/leg problems. When I almost passed out and couldn’t sit from the pain running down my lower back and leg she was the one that helped get me to the clinic, and the one who sat with me for over 6 hours as the doctors examined me.
I tried to do what I could for her too. Doing my best to take care of her and be there for her when she was sick, but it wasn’t nearly as much as she did for me. I never told her, or anyone else for that matter (hell I wasn’t even willing to admit it to myself in my diary), but when I was having a rough time at the beginning, and only a week away from calling it quits and heading home, she was the main reason I stayed on. And she was the main reason that I pushed back my return flight until the end of February (only 4 days before my visa expired). She was the reason that I wasn’t even ready to leave at that point. So…
Dear Alma,
I can never really thank you for all that you did for me, and this poorly written essay can never fully express how deeply I care for and love you, but hopefully it helped you see how much you meant to me. It may have only been 5 months, but it was 5 of the best months of my life that I will never forget and treasure forever. Despite how hard it was to say goodbye, with all the uncertainty of if and when we’ll see each other again, you helped make my time in China one of the greatest experiences of my life. It’s a time that I will always look back on happily. Thank you, Alma Crexiams. Thank you for everything.
Love,
Tommy-Thom
