Slowly, I stood from my chair. I wanted desperately to make the next few minutes last. I hoped that by moving slowly I could make time stand still. I was filled with anxiety and felt a sense of fear. This time, I couldn't accept the loss. We had come so far and it had been such an effort to find him. It was more like a miracle that we had, and I wasn't going to leave without knowing for sure that one day I'd see him again.
He remained still, for just a brief moment, and concern mounted quickly within me. Was it possible that he had contemplated letting me leave without ensuring the future? But then, he reached into his pocket, I diverted my attention, and I pretended not to notice him at all. I said my good-byes to Courtney and the others, and extended a half-hearted invitation to them all. I gave her my number and suggested they call, if ever they should come to New York. I turned away and focused on Tristan. The time had come. Any future time we could possibly share, rested on the upcoming moments together. The anticipation was unnerving. Jordan had already waved everyone farewell and motioned that he would meet me outside. It had been hot in the bar and I knew he was just eager to get some air.
Tristan's probing eyes connected with mine as I approached him to say good-bye. They penetrated me thoroughly with such intensity that I felt as if we were physically entwined. I could feel the presence of the others nearby, but at that moment, it no longer mattered. There was not even the remote possibility of relinquishing him again. It just wasn't an option. I wouldn't allow it to be. And then he handed me a card. It was purple and his name was printed on it. It read Tristan Engler, and below it was his home address and telephone number in Germany. It was his personal card and the prominent color was an unequivocal representation of who he was. It told me something about him. He was unique. Distinct. But more than that, he represented individuality. He was not intimidated and did not fear demonstrating his convictions. It came to him naturally. That's who he was.
I placed his card in my wallet and began to search for mine. I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Wasn't going to miss the opportunity to let him know where I was. I wanted to know in no indefinite terms, that he could reach me too. So I handed him my business card, as that was all that I had, and scribbled my home number on it as well. As I handed it to him I felt as if I were forfeiting a part of me. I knew that when I walked out the door, I would feel that I was leaving a part of me in Bali. In some ways I knew I was. I was leaving an experience, a passion and an unquenched thirst that I wasn't truly confident would be sated. I feared the unknown. Whatever the outcome, only one thing was certain. And that was that nothing was certain. But now it was feasible that I could see him again and the uncertainty that I would have to live with was temporary. A sudden sense of relief washed over me, as I realized then, that at least I would have the choice.
He was still seated. I leaned over, squeezed his shoulder, and helplessly rolled my eyes. I smiled a weak smile then opened my mouth, but my words just said, "Good-bye."
As I began to walk, he grasped my arm tightly, and said, "I'll see you in New York, soon."
I forced myself to walk forward and to think of Jordan who was waiting just outside the door. I had lingered a little longer than I had anticipated and I hoped that Jordan hadn't felt the time.
"Hi," I said, having the need to say something and immediately engage in conversation. Jordan appeared tired and I had difficulty interpreting his thoughts, but his response was nothing out of the ordinary.
The cab ride back to our hotel was relatively quiet and gratefully uneventful. I was feeling introspective as I recycled my thoughts, of the night and the night before. As I glanced at Jordan, my heart went out to him but I knew we were starting to drift.
Our last full day on Bali had arrived. I woke up with a heavy head, feeling like I had consumed large quantities of alcohol. But I knew clearly, that the drinks I had the previous night were not the sole contributor to the throbbing. The next few hours were less than comfortable as Jordan and I were both on edge. Our interaction was minimal and what little there was, was argumentative and combative. But I knew that Tristan had not been the impetus of what had become a debilitating relationship for Jordan and me. I was grateful for my insight which had told me at least that. Jordan and I had never been entirely complete as a couple. Instinctively, I knew that our chemistry just wasn't natural. Meeting Tristan only confirmed my inklings and allowed me to test my doubts. But I knew that Jordan possessed doubts of his own. The problem was, his doubts stemmed from mine. He lacked confidence in our relationship, but not because he wasn't prepared to cultivate it. His vested interest was clearly apparent but my uncertainty was clear too. So we rode out the day apprehensive and tense as both of us anticipated the future.
The following thirty-six hours were frenzied but pleasant as we made our way back to Singapore. The obscure detoured route we had chosen for transportation, distracted us from all that had preoccupied us for the last few days. We flew from Bali to Jakarta, Jakarta to Batam, and boated from Batam back to the port in Singapore. We had opted for the inconvenience to save a few bucks and it had quietly paid off in other ways.
Singapore struck us as an unspoiled paradise compared to the less developed parts of Indonesia. It seemed like an eternity that we had been gone, and it had not even been three weeks. We rushed back to the Westin, the hotel where I was staying, as we still had a wedding to attend. I had promised Alex, a new but close friend, that we'd come if we returned to Singapore on time. Alex worked in Singapore, at the FUN office, and I felt that I wanted to go.
We showered and dressed and made it to the Hilton exactly on schedule. Both Alex and his fiancé Mei Lin were Chinese Singaporeans and the ceremonial traditions reflected it. The food was exotic and tastefully done, with elegant Asian influence. Our attire was semi-formal like everyone else, a contrast to our vacation dress. An hour into the affair it was difficult to conceive that we had been in Indonesia that morning. I thought about Tristan and all that transpired and already it was fading into a dream. The urgency to see him was diminishing and the reality somewhat blurred, but the environment impacted what I was feeling. After travels through Indonesia, Singapore felt like New York to me, and I was confident New York would feel like another world. The evening ended festively as Jordan and I said good-bye to Alex, Mei Lin and to each other. We were flying home separately, as previously planned, and his flight was early the next morning.
The bed beside me was empty in the morning and I realized that his bags were gone. It was an abrupt ending to our trip, although his departure had been planned, and the pit in my stomach grew larger. A discussion was imminent when we returned to New York, but I had a long trip ahead of me before that. My flight was scheduled only twelve hours after Jordan's but the separation had already felt endless. I couldn't honestly say that I felt lonely for him, but his absence was undeniably noticed. Yet, with his absence came a strong sense of freedom, a feeling that I had yearned for, for weeks.
My flight to New York was boarding. I took a deep breath and walked to the window to record a mental picture of the land. So much had changed from the day I arrived it was hard to think back to that time. It wasn't a transformation of the physical surroundings but an awakening that had transpired within me. The outdoors, the greenery and the beauty of Asia played an integral part of it happening. The natural subtleties of the distant terrain made me feel alive and free.
"Flight 1322 to New York is now boarding. This will be the last call," they announced.
As I inhaled the palm trees, the flowers and the air, I could feel the new person inside of me. The growth that I felt had culminated with ease and not solely due to the man that I had met. My stay in Singapore had given me a lot, an evolution I'd never forget. As my mind began to wander and I privately reminisced, they began to close the door to the plane.
Seven hours had passed, already in route, and the flight had six more to go. We would be landing in Brussels for a one hour layover before the connecting flight to New York. I had ne
ver even bothered to look at my ticket as I had flown the route before. Only three months had transpired since the last endless journey, yet a lifetime of stories had occurred. I closed my eyes as we flew over Israel and my mind began to drift... Yes, Singapore had been good to me. It had been good for me. An experience I would never forget. There was never any question of what it would afford me professionally, because that I already knew. It was the personal development, however, that surprised me, and the growth I had not anticipated. I had been exposed to so much at once, in all different facets of life... The culture. A wonderful mix of people. I had been immersed in a world where three human breeds, lived peacefully and joyfully as one. The Chinese. Soft spoken, porcelain faces, smiles and respect. Emotion was not a trait that was easily displayed, but something I worked hard to understand. The Indians. Strong defined features with powerful talking eyes. Expressive and alive with traditions that consumed me. The Malay. A hybrid of the East bearing beauty and depth. Energy from within shedding warmth through their souls. They were all so different from me. From each other. Varied and diverse. I thrived in this setting where all were unique. I adapted to them and they to me and the challenge was nothing but fun... But then I met someone else. It had been several weeks into my stay. The introduction took some time, but I know now, it was well worth the wait. It was me that I met. I met myself. Strange as that sounds, I did. Away from my element with time on my hands, I learned more about who I was. It wasn't my thoughts or the people I was with or what I had said that day. I witnessed my activities and my time spent alone and how it affected my day. My life had become different without built in support, my dear ones at home that I loved ... But then there was Sam, my dear friend Sam. He was my boss abroad. We had established a unique and very special bond, one that I respected and cherished. He was my support, in limited ways, but sufficient enough for me. I tried to be his but feared I fell short, but did the best that I could. I knew he wanted more, not just as a friend, but it was something I just couldn't give him. Yet another situation I learned how to manage, alone, on my own in Asia. And there was more. There was so much more. But for me the glory, the excitement, the growth, was being aware of it all. Acutely aware of all that surrounded me, of all that I was part of and living.
"Would you like to see a menu," the flight attendant had asked me. "Yes please, I'm starved," I responded.
He handed me a menu and I surveyed the choices. As I did, I stopped. The print at the top of the menu informed me of something, and of more than what I would be eating. The menu read, flying time to Frankfurt is 13 hours and 23 minutes. Was I on the wrong flight? Did they change the route? I thought we'd be flying to Brussels. I searched for my ticket feeling anxious and confused yet I knew the ultimate destination was New York. It was Tristan I was thinking about as we approached his home turf which was minutes outside of Frankfurt. But my flight was correct as my ticket confirmed, I had just never taken the time to look at it. As Germany grew nearer my senses came alive, but ironically he was still in Indonesia.
As the plane touched ground I felt helpless and unsure as I had the need to do something. It was difficult to digest that I was in Frankfurt, but more that I was not able to see him. I wandered through the airport with one hour to spare, as I examined the surroundings so familiar to him. By being in his environment and his place of work, I felt that I had acquired a part of him. I wished that I could leave something, an indication of some sort, for him, that I had actually been there. It was 6 a.m. and the shops were all closed so I walked to vent my energies. As I continued to walk, I passed by a phone and suddenly had an idea.
My pace had quickened and my adrenaline rushed as I approached a flight agent behind the desk.
"Excuse me please," I said with urgency, desperately hoping she could speak English. "Do you by chance know how much it costs to make a phone call to this number?"
I handed her the purple card so she could read it herself, as I wasn't quite sure how to pronounce his home town.
She handed it back to me along with a coin, and said, "Here, just use this,"
It was German currency and I thanked her profusely and attempted to pay her the exchange.
She smiled and refused and I smiled right back and hurried to make my call.
The phone rang once. Then twice. After the third ring I heard a click and an answering machine went on. As I listened to the voice that was unfamiliar and foreign, it was hard to determine if it was him. After all, I had only known him a short time. Maybe it was a roommate. I wasn't even sure if he lived alone. Too many unknown variables. But the real problem was, the message on the machine was spoken in German language. Something I had never even anticipated. As I tried to detect if the voice was his, I knew that I had to think quickly. There was nothing to lose if it wasn't him and at the moment I saw no other options. The message finished, I heard the beep and I took the opportunity to speak.
"Hi, Tristan, or should I say I hope this is you. If it isn't, please give him this message and if it is, well it is high time you leave your answering machine message in English," I said playfully. "I'll give you one guess who this is. If you can't already tell from my American accent, I left you in Indonesia yesterday and will hopefully see you sometime in New York. But you'll never guess where I am now. Believe it or not, I'm in Frankfurt. Yes, it was a surprise to me too. Anyway, my plane is boarding so I really must run but I would love to speak to you soon. If you call me at work I can easily call you back as I realize it's a long distance call. 'Hope the rest of your stay in Bali was great. By the way, what does your message actually say? Talk to you soon. Bye-Bye."
My heart raced as I hung up the phone because I knew I had taken the initiative. But I also knew that the point still remained that Tristan had met me with Jordan. I knew Tristan cared, but because of Jordan, when he went home, he may have thought better of it. So I took the risk of being rejected but I knew that it was my place to do it.
CHAPTER THREE
********
New York greeted me warmly. The night I returned my family came to visit as I filled them in on my journeys. After they left I heard from Jordan who had also arrived that day. It was good to hear from him despite my confusion and we planned to get together the next day.
When I saw Jordan's face the following day, I was pulled in a million directions. It had finally become clear, definitively clear. The passion I needed and desperately longed for was something we just didn't share. But it was extraordinary. I still couldn't let go of him. Not yet. I knew it was fear of being alone or fear of having failed on my part. I questioned myself again and again, and asked if I had actually tried hard enough. But then I told myself that it shouldn't have to be such hard work. Yet, I cared for him in a special way and that made it difficult too. Either way, I still wasn't ready to give up. I knew in my heart that I already had but somehow I still had to try.
We had looked through our pictures from our entire trip and enjoyed them together with pride. We had both photographed well with some decent results and captured a lot on film. Jordan hadn't raised the subject of Christmas since we had both returned from Southeast Asia. I wondered if he thought that I decided not to go, but it was suddenly clear that he hadn't.
"So what do you think?" he asked. "Are you going to come to the Cape or not?"
I knew that he was getting frustrated with my uncertainty and yet I felt an obligation to go. If for whatever reason I couldn't walk away then I knew that I had to go.
"Well, maybe I can join you for part of the time," and for the moment we left it at that.
Two days had passed since I had arrived in New York and people were still welcoming me home. The phone rang at work and I answered it professionally never expecting who it might be. The delay on the phone told me the call was distant and I assumed it was a colleague from Singapore.
"Hello," the voice said, as I wondered who it was, faintly detecting the accent. "How are you," he continued. "Do you recognize who this is?"
My he
art started beating not believing my ears that we had actually made contact through our efforts.
"Oh my G-d, hi, how are you, where are you, from where are you calling?!"
My excitement was quite apparent as my shell slowly shed, but he had called and it was hard to contain myself. It was the guy from Germany that I had met in Indonesia, a guy by the name of Tristan.
"I'm actually calling from Canada, I arrived in Montreal last night," he said. "I got your message on my machine two nights ago, but with the time difference it was too late to call. I flew out the next morning, well, and here I am. Anyway, I'm glad you called, how are you?"
Totally flustered and unsure of where to begin, I replied, "I'm fine and it's good to hear you too, but I don't care what you say, you still sound British to me."
We both laughed at that and filled the next few minutes with stories of our last days in Asia. I interrupted us for a moment, in order to keep my promise, and called him back to save him the toll. The miles apart were clearly unnoticed as the playful banter remained. We exchanged friendly sarcasm and the challenge was quite refreshing. I could even hear his smile but missed seeing it nonetheless. The conversation was free as if we hadn't missed a beat, until suddenly, there was a pause of silence. It was obvious that there were still unspoken words and a lot remained to be said. The question he was about to ask was imminent and my answer was still unclear.
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