It all started while I was participating in an event for my clothing line. I was just about to take my lunch when suddenly I heard someone calling my name.
“Hey, Kat.” A woman’s voice called me.
I looked up and saw my friend from my Melbourne day, not a close friend, though. Oh yes, I spent a few years in Melbourne for my Bachelor’s Degree.
We chatted for a while, mostly about my clothing line, her sons, and how great her husband was. She told me about all the wonderful things her husband did for her and how her husband always bought expensive things for her.
I was not so impressed by her life - not because I came from a well-to-do family, but because I was not one of those girls who loved to be given expensive gifts, though I was happy for her.
A customer then came to my booth to check out my clothes. I went to my customer and chatted with her.
When I’d finished serving the customer, I went back to my friend. I saw that she was thinking about asking me something, and I kind of knew what her questions would be.
I waited for her to ask me the questions that seemed to be in everyone’s minds whenever they were talking to me.
“How was your divorce? Finalized yet?” She finally asked.
“Ahhh.. No, not yet. I’m still waiting for my husband to give me all the paperwork so I can finalize it.” I said hurriedly as I shrugged. Here was the question that I knew she would ask. Hopefully, she wouldn’t ask too much, and this would be over and done soon, I thought in my mind.
“I heard that your husband already has someone new?” She asked, curious.
“Yeah, he told me himself,” I replied irritably. Although I knew she would ask me that question, I still didn’t like talking about my failed marriage, especially about my husband already having someone new. I didn’t love him anymore, but it still hurt to know about it as we’d only been separated for a month.
“So, are you ready to start dating again?” She asked.
I couldn't say anything. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I was scared. Having a failed marriage kind of changed my perspectives on love. I was one of those girls who believed in ‘happily ever after’, but now I knew that it could never exist. Though I knew there was still a small part of me who still wanted to believe it, hoping that I would get my ‘happily ever after’ one day.
“My husband has a friend from the US, and I think you guys would hit it off. We are going to meet him later on. Would it be okay if I give him your phone number?” She asked enthusiastically.
As I wanted the conversation to end as fast as possible, I just nodded.
“You will like him. I have great feelings about you guys. Just don’t ignore his messages, okay?” She told me as she waved her hand goodbye while going away.
I would like him, but would he like me, though? I thought in my mind as I sighed. I didn’t overthink about it as I had to talk to my customers for nearly the rest of the day.
***
That night when I went home after a tiring day, my phone suddenly vibrated. It was an unknown number. Usually, I ignored unknown numbers, but I opened the chat this time, thinking it might be the man whom my friend wanted to introduce to me. And there he was, his name was Damian.
I saw his profile picture, and my first thought was how eye-catching this guy was. He was sitting down, leaning back lazily, one leg crossed over the other, with a drink in his hand, and he was gazing at a far distance.
I couldn’t really see his side profile in great detail even when I zoomed in on the picture as the picture was taken from his side and quite a distance. But he had a great body and for sure, was attractive.
Somehow, I could sense loneliness in his aura, even with the corner of his lips lifted from his smile.
But I guessed it was just my own thought since he was bubbly, friendly, and easy-going when we chatted. It seemed impossible for a guy like him to be lonely. He was simply too charming, making it hard for me not to like him.
From our chat, I gathered that he was tall, though he didn't tell me how tall he was, but he knew that I was only 1.45m tall, which was considered very short, even for Indonesian. He was younger than me, only 27 years old, while I was 32 years old, but luckily, I didn't look or act my age.
I told him some would say I was more like I was in my late 20s and that my behavior was somewhat childish, but that didn't mean that I was immature, just my movements and the way I spoke were child-like, though I didn’t know why most guys liked it.
I also told him that I was a girly girl. I loved to wear dresses or feminine clothes and heels. I also mentioned that I was a hopeless romantic to him in passing, so that he knew I would expect him to be a gentleman.
I really loved chatting with him. He always made me laugh. I felt like I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else with him. I could talk to him about anything and he wouldn’t judge me.
As I preferred to speak English rather than Bahasa Indonesia, chatting with him was refreshing. Since I went back to Indonesia, I seldom spoke English. I spoke more Bahasa Indonesia though I couldn’t help but mix it with English. My Indonesian friends preferred to speak Bahasa Indonesia, and thus chatting with Damian felt fabulous.
My ex-husband couldn’t speak English, and it frustrated me. I was used to speaking English that sometimes I would just rattle on in English, especially when I was angry.
I wasn’t some stuck-up girl who didn’t like speaking their mother tongue. I just felt that the English language was more elegant and romantic. Furthermore, I spent my secondary school till my Bachelor’s Degree overseas, speaking English.
Those were the reasons I felt more comfortable speaking English than Bahasa Indonesia, not because I felt all high and mighty above everyone else who didn’t speak English here.
We chatted daily, and after one week of chatting, he asked if I wanted to meet. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not now?
I asked him where he wanted to meet, and he chose a high-end mall. My first thought of hearing it was how unusual it was. Most guys would prefer to meet in more crowded malls, malls where youngsters loved to go to - where there were more restaurants and cafes.
I didn’t think much of it, though, so I just told him alright, I would meet him at the mall of his choosing.