I know… it has been a while again. But time just seems to fly. A lot has happened, and things are still happening, but that’s not really the point of this post. Like so many times before, I just have something on my mind that needs to be written down.
This time, though, it feels a little different. I’m writing while trying to figure out how I actually feel about everything. Because if I’m being honest, I don’t really know yet. And between us, not even the people who know about this situation fully know what’s going on in my head right now. Classic me, I know. But as I keep telling you, my matcha lovers, it’s okay not to have the answers right away. And I think this might be the most vulnerable I’ve ever been on here.
Have you ever met someone and instantly clicked with them? Not the platonic soulmate kind of connection you feel with a friend. I mean the kind where you suddenly think, I could imagine building a life with this person. Well… this person came into my life completely out of nowhere.
We met online, through a language exchange. At first it was just casual conversation. But then we started talking every day. We exchanged socials, started sending voice notes, talked on the phone, sent random pictures of our days. Sometimes pictures of ourselves, sometimes just what we were doing in that moment. Good morning and good night messages became part of the routine.
We talked about visiting Switzerland, Busan, and Japan together. Sitting in a convenience store eating egg sandwiches while watching people pass by. Getting into a food coma after eating too much raclette. Me cooking my favourite Swiss dishes. Showing him the Busan I fell in love with. And the funny part? We never even met in real life.
As you might noticed, I’m travelling at the moment, and it will still be a few weeks until I’m back in Seoul. But we had already decided that we would meet once I returned. Because of the distance between us, and because I had some free time before my Korean classes start again, I even booked a bus and a hotel in his hometown.
And then one day, completely out of the blue, after our usual morning messages, I replied to something he said… And my message stayed on delivered. Not opened. Just sitting there.
If you’re an overthinker like me, you know exactly what happens next. You go back through all the messages. The pictures. The conversations. You analyse every tiny detail, wondering if something you said or did was wrong. Your brain starts spiraling and it’s almost impossible to stop it. But another thought also creeps in. What if something happened? What if there was an emergency? Something with his family or friends?
I’ll spare you the little details. The flirting, the cute messages, the small moments that made everything feel special. But what I want to say is this: I have never felt as calm and safe with someone as I did while talking to him. He respected boundaries. He understood when a topic was difficult. He never pushed conversations somewhere they didn’t belong during the “getting to know each other” phase. He remembered small things I randomly mentioned. And let me tell you something: I didn’t know how it felt when someone remembers the little details about you. The ones you secretly hope they remember but would never actually say out loud. For the first time, I felt calm. Safe. Understood.
Instead of asking myself the usual question: What if it doesn’t work out again? I started asking a new one: What if it actually works out?
He was also the first person who made me write down my feelings about someone. I created a note on my iPad called “Things about him.” There’s no structure, no order. Just random thoughts whenever something came to my mind. The funny thing is that the very first line in that note says something like: “I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”
Right now, as I’m sitting in a café somewhere in Tokyo and scrolling through that note again, I’m fighting back tears. Because he was the first person who made me feel like I could simply be myself. The first person I could actually imagine a future with. Of course, the temptation to reach out and ask if something is wrong is there. But I know better than that.
Ironically, today is March 1st while I’m writing this. And I know myself well enough to know that this post will probably be published later. Because deep down, there is still a tiny part of me hoping he will reach out with some kind of explanation for leaving my message unopened for now 36 hours. But realistically speaking… I know what this probably is. I’ve experienced it before. The only difference this time is that it hurts a little more. Actually, a lot more.
Writing this down, admitting it out loud, makes me realise something else too. Slowly, I’m starting to lose faith in the idea that there is someone out there waiting for me. Because I keep offering my love, and in the end I always end up hurt. Rebuilding myself. Picking up the pieces. And honestly? I’m tired of doing that.
Today is March 6th, I’m somewhere in Singapore. For the past few days I’ve been thinking about whether I should publish this post or not. Part of me thought it was silly, just a small problem, not worth giving him space on my blog. But this isn’t really about him. This is about how I’m processing what happened. About acknowledging how something that never even fully started could still mean something to me. So yes, I will publish this.
And just so you know – the bus and hotel tickets have been cancelled.
matcha latte on a rainy night 