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

Chapter 5.2: Third Date Anticipation - The Moment of Truth

I drove up to her house to pick her up for our third date, the excitement bubbling under the surface. "I'm going to kiss her tonight," I told myself. After two dates without any physical affection, I needed to know what our kiss would feel like—how it would change the dynamic between us.

She walked out, opened the door, and greeted me with a smile. The simplicity of it made my heart beat faster. We drove to Dempsey Hill, to a restaurant she knew—a quiet spot that didn't need reservations, even on a Saturday night.

We were seated outside, where the conversations went deeper than they had on our previous dates. I found myself staring at her, completely captivated. If anyone had been watching us from the outside, they would've seen it clear as day—the way my eyes were filled with something more than just interest. I was lost in her, lost in our little world. Time seemed irrelevant when I was with her.

After dinner, we walked to another shop for ice cream. She chose pistachio, saying it was her favorite. She wouldn't know it, but I mentally locked that away—*pistachio is her favorite flavor*. It was a small detail, but one that felt important to remember.

We sat outside again, eating our ice creams, talking about different dating cultures. I asked her if she knew the difference between Europeans and Americans when it came to relationships. "Europeans are typically into monogamy," I explained, "while Americans lean more into non-monogamy." She looked at me curiously and asked, "What about Singaporeans?"

"Monogamy," I answered, without hesitation.

As we talked, I reached over and placed my hand on hers, holding it gently. She blushed and looked away, saying, "Stop looking at me. I'm shy." But I couldn't stop. I didn't want to. My eyes stayed on her, filled with a kind of affection I couldn't hide.

"I'm going to kiss you," I said softly. "I want to kiss you."

"Here?" she asked, her voice uncertain but intrigued.

"No, in the car," I replied.

We lingered for a while longer, finishing our conversation, and then made our way to the car. I drove us to a darker, more secluded spot and pulled up the handbrake. The air between us felt electric, full of anticipation. I leaned in and we shared a kiss—longing, gentle, but charged with emotion. I pulled back when I saw someone approaching, the moment interrupted.

"We should go," I said, pushing down the handbrake. But I didn't let go of her hand. Instead, I drove while holding it, feeling a rush of intimacy I hadn't felt before. That simple act of holding her hand while driving—it was like a current of closeness that pulsed through me, something new and thrilling.

When we got back to her place, we agreed on a fourth date, this time at her home. As I watched her walk away, I knew this was just the beginning of something deeper.