Alone again (naturally)

I arrived in Kuala Lumpur yesterday at 2.30PM and checked into Istana Hotel at around 4PM. After reviewing the documents I needed to study for the stakeholders’ meeting, I took a quick shower and fell asleep unintentionally. I woke up a few minutes before 7PM, hungry. I decided against ordering food from room service. I was looking forward to eating some Nasi Lemak and Nasi Goreng but I didn’t want to eat it in the hotel. My hotel is quite close to Bukit Bintang so I decided to walk towards it. I remember that Super Noodle House, the Chinese restaurant Yuen Mei took me to when I was last here in KL, is in this area. I suddenly craved for Chinese food.

When I got in, I ordered fried noodles with seafood, barbecue pork dumplings, and honey-lemon juice. The noodles were fresh and crispy, with just enough sauce and lots of shrimp, squid, and fish. The dumplings were just as good as I remembered them. While eating I locked eyes with an Indian-looking young man seating a table away from me. He was probably wondering why I, looking clearly non-Chinese, was eating at this restaurant. Well, I could say the same thing to him. I turned to my left, right, and back to check if he was really looking at me. 

He was. Feeling a mild sense of panic, I looked down at my plate and ate quickly. I don’t clearly know why. I had wanted to relish my nice dinner. When he smiled, my innards tightened like a clenched fist. He had thick curly hair, high forehead, bright eyes. My type on 3 of 4 counts. But nevertheless, something about the way he was looking at me unnerved me. The restaurant was pretty busy, and the waitresses have probably noticed the staring match that Suresh (his imagined name–after the character in Heroes) was trying to start with me. I asked for the check, paid for it then I stood to go. I didn’t turn to see him as I quickly left the restaurant and went into the mall.

There was really nothing much to see in the mall. I wasn’t in the market for new outfits, phones, shoes, and other accessories. I turned to step out of the mall and almost shrieked when I bumped into Suresh. He was still smiling, although it looked a bit confused because I think my forehead hit his chin. He had dimpled cheeks, I didn’t notice that earlier. He introduced himself (Anand) and asked for my name. I told him. He wanted to know my nationality and I told him. He said he was Singaporean but working in KL for the last year. I smiled. He said he was 26 and asked for my age. He was surprised when I told him. While this Q&A ensued I was walking briskly on the sidewalk, snaking my way into the crowd as he kept up with minimal effort. Of course, with his longer legs, familiarity with the terrain, and his obvious athleticism, I didn’t stand a chance of outrunning him.

He held my wrist and asked if I was afraid of him. I looked at him. ‘Because you don’t need to be. I’m a good guy,’ he said. I swallowed a cruel retort. The lobby of my hotel loomed above us. He asked if I was billeted at Istana. I didn’t see the point of saying no. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I don’t usually do this. But would you like to have coffee with me in the lobby?’ I agreed.

As he was sitting down, I noted that he was not bow-legged. So it was really 3 out of 4. I must have stared at his legs so intently that he had to ask me if something was wrong. The band in the lobby lounge had concluded its first set, so the lobby was relatively quiet. We ordered coffee and he resumed his Q&A. I tried to answer as succinctly as possible, without sounding indifferent as he volunteered the equivalent information on himself. After a few questions I began to feel at ease answering them. I felt no need to tell him anything other the truth. After all, I didn’t really know him and I probably won’t see him again.

‘Are you gay?’ he asked before sipping his coffee, his eyes on me.

‘Are you?’ I asked back. 

He smiled. ‘I thought I made it obvious in the restaurant.’

‘Glad we cleared that up,’ I retorted. He laughed and it was such pretty laughter. I thought of tucking that laughter under my pillow at night to help me fall asleep. We talked for about another 15 minutes before he asked me if I was partnered. That was his exact word: partnered. The term amused me, I didn’t know why.

I asked him if he was and he shook his head. He was deeply closeted while growing up in Singapore. That he was only able to explore his sexuality when he was sent to London to study. And now that he was in Malaysia, things were not that different from his life in Singapore. I asked him why he came back. ‘I’m sure you left a lot of broken hearts in London.’ He smiled and said he got an irresistible job offer. In the 4 years he was in London, he said he was partnered for 3 years. That they broke up against his wishes because the guy didn’t believe in long distance relationships.

‘He’s right, you know.’ I replied, thinking how my relationship has felt like a long distance relationship for the last few months even if we live in the same city.

‘I would’ve liked to try,’ he said with youthful stubbornness.

‘But to what end? I asked him, feeling this question directed towards me just the same. 

We had our coffee cups refilled and the band soon started performing again. When it got too loud for us, we stepped out of the lobby, towards the poolside. The night was cold, and we sat on one of the benches, closer than I intended. We talked some more. I realized the depth of loneliness that he was probably feeling, alone in a city that was almost, but not quite, his home. Continents separated him from his love, and his present life did not even allow him to live freely, even in solitude. I wondered how different am I from him. I am not constrained in terms of living as a gay man, but I am alone in a city that is not my home. My lover and I live in one small city, but we might as well be separated by continents as well.

My resistance, his beligerence. Gulfs that separate us from each other.

When I yawned, Anand took it as a sign to suggest that I should probably turn in for the night. The question of an invitation seemed to hang in the air, hovering between us. I told him I’m glad to have met him. He thanked me for the company and I returned the thanks. He said he liked talking to me. I admitted the same. His smile was achingly sweet. He asked if he could walk me to the elevator. I agreed. He held my hand briefly as we stood in front of the lift. When the doors opened, he gave me a light kiss on the cheek then slipped something in my hand. He was still looking at me as the elevator doors closed.

Back in my room, I put his card on the nightstand. It lies there, alone.