I’d like to think it was because we met at the wrong time.
I loved him. And him, me. I don’t know if I still do. Perhaps I’ll know if I see him again.
I was young, naive, petulant. He was insecure, idealistic. We met online, as do most of my kind do. We got together online, consummating our relationship in a really raunchy cam sex session.
It went well. At least for the first few months. Then the distance became unbearable. Taipei and Canberra. Different timezones, different society. He became tedious; I, distant.
We met on our holidays, with high hopes it would work out after all. But not to be. Because we were young. I came back to Singapore and called him. I told him we can’t do this anymore; I can’t do this anymore. He begged me to stay. But I knew I couldn’t.
I’d cheat on him again.