The Time I Met A Bulgarian Guy

On Saturday, my childhood friend and his girlfriend decided to host a spontaneous dinner party of seven in their apartment, of which, I'm currently crashing in. I could hear the stubborn INFJ in myself go: "A dinner party of seven? Where I can't have in depth personal conversations with the guests? Think I'd rather skip it."

With the thought of wanting to escape the crowd I wasn't in the mood for, I immediately confirmed my plans to hop on a train to go meet this new guy I've chatted with on Jack'd at his suburb. When we first got in touch earlier this week, my initial impression of him was that he was a good-looking guy, and had him pegged as someone from either South-Eastern Europe or Latin America due to his look. He confirmed my geographical suspicion later on and revealed to me that he was originally from Bulgaria.

Prior to our meeting that night, he warned me about not being able to communicate effectively in English, which I thought was weird considering he texts fine. Then, upon meeting him face to face at the train station where I arrived, I learnt that his claim for the lack of linguistic proficiency was true, and that it was going to take a lot of patience from us to get through the night. 

What was even more disappointing however upon seeing him, was that he has gained a little bit of weight, and certainly didn't look as good as the candidate from the profile picture I agreed to meet. Well M, what are you gonna do? We're already here. A guy's just gotta make the best out of the situation.

In the spirit of not wanting to be that douche bag that says: "I'm sorry, this isn't going to happen because I now find you physically unattractive," I told myself that the date must go on. It's just that now, we can cross out sex from the menu. As soon as I switched my thinking, the situation didn't seem so disappointing anymore.

So from the train station, we stopped by the liquor store to grab a bottle of wine, for which he insisted on paying for, then to the nearby convenience store for some chips. Throughout the entire time we were shopping, he was very cold and aloof. Even with my warm and friendly conversationalist at work, he still had trouble responding in terms of the energy that he was putting out. Maybe he really can't understand most of what we're talking about you fool!

Back at his apartment, things were better and he gave me a brief tour of the place. There was this moment during the tour where I could feel that he deliberately showed me his bedroom. From what I could 'receive' on my end, was that I'm guessing it's to see if we had a shot at going to bed early. I stayed unaffected and pivoted us back out to the living room where we could sit down and have some proper hang out time. He looked shocked, and if I'm accurate in my judgement of people's emotions, a little unhappy with where things were going.

Then I started to feel as if what I was doing wasn't fair to him. As a genuine practitioner of honesty and respect, I decided to let him know then and there in the living room about the ending he wasn't going to get from me that night. It was my way of offering him a fast checkout card if we didn't want the same things. That way, it would save everybody the time and unnecessary trouble. 

I obviously didn't tell him the truth about why 'fun' wasn't going to be on the menu because I just don't see the point in this. It will only hurt someone unnecessarily telling them that they don't attract me, and what do I get out of it? So I made some lousy excuse to make it seem like it was my problem and not his.

Then surprisingly, he said it doesn't matter and that we could just sit around and hang out like normal guys. Wow, he still didn't mind us hanging out in this place? Why would he put himself through this when he's clearly uncomfortable or aloof?

After opening the bottle of wine and settling us down, I started my conversation with him. During the first thirty minutes, the atmosphere in the living room was just very awkward due to his lack of response and seemingly cold façade. I could have easily chosen to end the night, but then I had an interesting idea of how to turn things around to make it more interesting.

Inspired by what I could achieve and what I did with the bisexual chef in the name of wanting to have some fun with my enthusiasm for therapeutic chats, I decided to try it out again with him. If I can get this Bulgarian guy who doesn't speak fluent English to open up or talk about his life, it could possibly be an unrealised potential or test to my patience, skill and spirit. This is going to be fun!

Remembering that the candidate has trouble with the language, I kept my questions really simple and clear. Initially the silent gaps were very uncomfortable, then gradually it became the norm in the conversation.

"Wait, let me think how to tell you in English", as he would often repeat, then take his time to think and give me short replies for which I am willing to listen and understand. He was quite good at communicating with me without having to explain excessively. And that was the inexplicable formula that really worked in this chat towards understanding each other.

His story was that he grew up as a purely heterosexual guy. He was one of those guys who always had a girlfriend and had no clue that he had homosexual preferences until he arrived in his mid twenties, where a one-time brief encounter involving his then girlfriend's hairdresser changed the course of how he started to sleep and go out exclusively with men.

    "Really? You never felt any attraction towards men while growing up? Never thought about it prior to that incident?"

     "No", he answered.

     "So will you ever want to be with a girl again?"

     "No. I am gay", he reassured me.

Throughout the next hour or so, we had a very rich conversation. I couldn't gauge if it was the way I asked my questions or if it was the way I listened to him that he felt so comfortable in opening up. It was like taking a walk and revisiting all the experiences that was locked away in his mind.

One thing that really stayed with me, was when he talked about being single, and that it is not uncommon for him to meet someone he really likes or wants to pursue, only to have that person not feel the same way or like him back. I think that part resonated with me mostly because I feel that as I venture deeper into my journey with meeting guys, I myself am starting to witness what he was talking about from the shoes of having been in both sides. Ah, life.

    "Do you work in... in... Wait let me think the word in English. Psychology? Or Journalist? You ask a lot of questions and you seem very curious", he looked me in the eye as he asked.
  "Nope. I'm just being me", I answered. By the end of two and a half hours, he was commenting on how weird it is to be seated here with a stranger he met on Jack'd and having felt like he just spilled his treasures. 

    "This is crazy you know. I've lived here for 2 years with the same flatmate, but I never told him anything. I don't talk about what I just told you even with friends.", he said. And for that, I thank him for being comfortable enough with me to talk about his personal past.

Seeing that the time was already close to 11pm, I decided to take-off to catch the bus back into the city. My session with him is done and I am very happy. I've given him free therapy in exchange for personal stories that are treasures in disguise for my learning experiences. 

As I help bring the glasses into the kitchen and picked up some of the trash that we left, I decided to give him a hug before I go. At most, maybe a kiss for being such a patient guy and then I will leave. A hug and a kiss? Yes a hug and a kiss. Sure. I can do that.

Then guess what, the hug obviously gave way to body contact, which gave way to a kiss, which gave way to a make-out in the kitchen. Just when I told myself that I'm going to stop and that this is as far as I'm going to allow myself to go, he lifted me up slightly and moved us back out to the living room where he let us fall onto the couch. The guy was a good kisser and certainly someone who knew how to caress and pushed all the right spots. On my neck, on my abdomen, on my skin. I was so turned on.

I knew that from a sensible point of view, I should stop if I was going to keep my word for not leading him on, but what was happening was just so fun and enjoyable that I let myself be lazy to take in the moment. "Oh come on, what's the harm with a little foreplay or make-out on the couch?", I thought to myself. Then, I couldn't recall how it happened, but he cleverly lifted me up slightly on my feet and we glided towards his room. The next thing I know, we were both already on his bed.

Yes. The clothes started to come off, and I ended up having fun with him in the bedroom for about forty five minutes. When we were done, he kept asking me to stay the night for which I declined and said I needed to get home. I couldn't tell if it was because I had my release, or if I felt ashamed for doing something I said I wouldn't do, but during the last moments of our goodbye, it felt a little awkward.

The time was about 12.15am and thankfully, I managed to catch one of the last few night buses that were headed towards the city centre as per his recommendation. Throughout the next few days, he texted me a lot, telling me he wishes to see me again and stuff. However, due to me not feeling any genuine attraction, I've decided to stay in touch but not lead him on. I then left it up to time to let things die down.