From Singapore to the World: A Journey of Lesbian Love Across The Globe

Chapter 4.2: The Moment It Stopped

But as much as I tried to focus on her, I couldn't ignore the surroundings. We were parked in a public carpark, and through the clear windows, I could see the HDB flats looming above us. It felt like there were countless eyes watching from those windows, like someone could easily be filming us. The thought gnawed at me, pulling me out of the moment.

*"I can't,"* I whispered, pulling back. *"Not here. We should continue this another time."*

She looked surprised, but didn't argue. I started the car and drove back down the levels of the carpark, the excitement from the evening slowly fading with every passing floor. By the time I dropped her off at her place, whatever tension had been building between us was gone. I told myself it was nerves—that I didn't want to be caught or seen—but deep down, I knew the truth. I didn't want to continue. Kissing her felt empty, like we were just going through the motions without any real connection.

As I drove away, I started to realize that I probably didn't even like her. There had been small moments that should have tipped me off earlier, like the time I casually asked her which gym she went to and what time she worked out. It was just a conversation starter, something I'd asked other girls without any issue. But she shot back with, *"What, are you a stalker or something?"*

Her reaction caught me off guard. I hadn't meant anything by it, just making small talk, but suddenly, I felt like I was being labeled for asking a harmless question. It made me feel like I had to tiptoe around her, like anything I said could be taken the wrong way. It was exhausting, and that moment stuck with me.

But what really solidified my feelings—or lack of feelings—was when I noticed her behavior on Instagram. She'd post pictures of flowers, asking who gave her what, like she wanted to create some mystery around herself. Meanwhile, her responses to me were becoming slower and slower, each conversation feeling more forced than the last.

I was growing increasingly irritated. Not only was she never paying me back for the meals I covered, but her attitude and slow responses were wearing thin. I couldn't handle the inconsistency, the tiptoeing, or the way she branded me a stalker for asking simple questions.