My Letters to Lourdes

Commitment

November 26, 2020

Dear Grandma,

I'm sorry I didn't write for so long. It has been very busy at the warehouse since it's the holiday season. Especially now, in this pandemic, there are fewer workers and more work to do. I'm so tired... Unhappy. I wish someone would massage my feet.

December 18, 2020

Dear Grandma,

I'm finally done with the semester, and I finally got a day off after 14 days of monotonous packing in the warehouse. I feel great today. I even went to the gym with Monica and ruined our bodies with boba after the gym. I just try to keep myself busy, so I can ignore the fact that I'm lonely. After my disappointment and broken ego with Liam, I continued to use Tinder. It was hard to move on from Liam. He was very hot, but he's a devil. I kept thinking about the tiny mistakes I made or the things I should've done with him in that single night that I saw him. When I moved from Liam to another guy, that's when the cycle of silent misery began. You see, Grandma, Tinder teaches you this certain value that anyone can be replaced easily, so don't be stuck. Tinder teaches you that you can have the power on your hands, swipe left or right, and voila, you just got a man for the night.

The next guy I met after Liam was Marcelo. A Mexican Angeleno whose restaurant business was unfortunately shut down by the coronavirus, yet he's trying to start some other business. Marcelo was a fit gym guy who had six-pack abs. Like, I could scrub my laundry clean on those abs. He's 5'10", has a light complexion, curly dark brown hair, a well-kept beard, and a mustache. I never expected anything from Marcelo. I thought he'd just be another Liam, but he was actually better (lasted more) than him. I still remember the first day we met; he held my hand and twirled me like a princess as we walked to get popcorn. I still remember the taste of lemonade soaked on his lips when he kissed me in his car in the drive-in theater. I remember the intimidation that I felt when he was tracing the lining of my underwear as we cuddled in his truck while watching the movie called "The Rental." Something did happen in our first night together, but we consistently talked and saw each other. Marcelo even rented us a romantic cabin with a jacuzzi in Big Bear. He also brought me to many fancy restaurants. We had many spontaneous trips on the beach. In a span of two weeks, Marcelo gave me the first times I wished Jordan had given me.

You might think, Grandma, that Marcelo and I eventually dated. We went on a lot of dates, but I never really found a spark between us. Maybe it was those small mistakes and wrong choices that he ignorantly made. Those little racist remarks, not liking pho, being lazy in bed, or being involved in such a relationship as ours. He wouldn't see me unless he knew that he was getting some sexual satisfaction in return. In short, we were better off as friends with benefits.

He eventually lost his charm on me, but I craved for something physical and constant, and so did he. However, later on, I realized I craved for something more than physical. I craved for someone who I could bring to a friend's party or in the theater. I craved someone who I could rant and boast about with my coworkers. I craved someone I could text when I was feeling out of place in a gathering or a party. I craved someone that made me think I wasn't alone. I craved all these things but never a serious relationship. Confusing, right?

After a month of seeing each other, Marcelo finally caught my confusing expectations of him. How can I be free but have someone who will hold me? Marcelo thought that I wanted a serious relationship. You know, Grandma, guys nowadays tremble at the word "commitment." Marcelo initiated the thread of similar messages in my life written by various guys saying, "You're amazing, but I am not ready for a relationship." By that, he truly meant, "You're good, but not good enough to keep me from wanting to taste other women." I feel like I wrote too much about such an insignificant matter as Marcelo, but it was necessary to tell it. Monica thinks Marcelo and I make a cute couple which really disgusts me. Behind Marcelo's strong masculine cologne, he really smelled like yellow onions Grandma. I swear, Grandma, he's nothing.

Your girl,

Yumi