London; it's a place where no one cares what anyone is doing and everyone minds their own business. Comparatively to Malaysia, where if two gay men hold hands in public they are instantly gawked at and condemned to the depths of hell by Holier-Than-Thou citizens.
When I was in London, I met a couple of guys which resulted to holiday flings. One of which I held hands with in public whilst walking towards the Underground station. We made out and hugged each other openly and freely when waiting for the train to come and no one bothered. There were no whispers of discontent, there were no cock-staring from by-standers, no one even bothered to look.
Timothy and I, we're an example of a holiday fling. What is a holiday fling you ask? Well let me explain. A HF is a short term relationship with a guy you meet in a different country, since there's a deadline involved (meaning the day when you leave the country) both of you try to make the best out of it.
Sitting next to Timothy, my arms around his waist and my lips either on my glass of double whiskey water or locked on to his lips, I looked into his doe-like eyes and wanted to utter the three words which I knew I shouldn't. It could have been the liquor talking, but the 2 weeks I spent with Timothy was...ethereal and magical.
The thing with HFs is that you're immediately attracted to the guy and since both of you are trying to make sweet lemonade out of lemons, you never get to see his sour side and vice versa. I have had the best HFs whenever I traveled around; I always seem to meet the guy that's totally right for me but the catch is, we live in
separate countries.
Is this a sign from the universe telling me that there are guys out there, just not in Malaysia? Or is the world playing a cruel joke on me?
(Names have been changed to protect identities)
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