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

Chapter 8.2: Missed Connections

As the night wore on, my phone buzzed with a notification from a match on Bumble. She was hot, my type in every way. We agreed to meet for lunch the next day. When she walked into the restaurant, I was elated—she looked just like her photos. Perfect. But as we talked, I learned she was doing odd jobs and living pay check to pay check , not really stable. *Not ideal,* I thought. Still, I wasn't here for stability—I was here for fun.

Later that night, I dressed up and went to the party, meeting her again at the bar. We kissed immediately, danced, and hung out all night. She was magnetic, drawing attention from other girls who weren't shy about asking for her number right in front of me. It didn't sit well with me, but I brushed it off—this was America, and non-monogamy was part of the culture here. I wasn't going to get territorial.

By midnight, she was tired and left. I was already three drinks in, drunk enough to be bold but not enough to be reckless. That's when I saw her—the most beautiful girl I had laid eyes on that night. In my drunken confidence, I walked right up to her and told her she was beautiful. We kissed, right there in front of her friends. It was impulsive, a wild moment. But it didn't last—she wasn't looking for anything serious, and in my drunken state, I told her I wanted a girlfriend. She said she did not want one and I walked out of the bar.

The next day, I matched with Amy on Bumble and decided to meet her at the night party. I was feeling confident, looking my best in leather and perfectly applied makeup. The party was already in full swing when I arrived, and I made my way through the crowd, looking for her. She was tall, towering over the crowd, and as soon as we locked eyes, the attraction was immediate. We kissed passionately, and for a moment, I wondered if she could be the one.

We spent the night dancing, letting the energy of the music and the crowd carry us. At one point, she suggested we take a break outside, away from the noise. We stepped out, and she asked me about my work and life. It felt a bit like an interview, and I wondered what she was thinking. When we went back inside, she bought a bottle of water from the bar, and we returned to the dance floor. She spoke briefly with a friend, and then she turned to me and, politely but firmly, asked me to head off first. I did as she asked, and that was the last time we really spoke. I saw her a few more times at the party, but we never reconnected. Sometimes, that's just how these nights go.

The next day, I found myself by the pool, surrounded by new friends. A girl, wearing nothing but only her underwear, came up and invited me to see something in her room. I agreed, and we walked back together. Inside, she sat on the bed, and we started talking. She told me she liked being on top, and I laughed, admitting I did too. We both realized it wasn't the perfect match. Still, the fleeting connection added another layer to the wild, unpredictable experience that was Dinah Shore.