What Page Are You On?

Chapter 1: The Perfect Date

I met Dylan on October 13, 2019, just a couple of months before I turned 19. He was 28 at that time. But of course, the difference in age wasn't an issue during the early stages of our relationship – in fact, the nine-and-a-half-year age gap was never an issue at all.

The beginning of our two-year-relationship went by as swift as the blowing winds in New England's fall. We had the perfect first date – brunch for two at Earl's, a quick detour to The Lawn on D and the New England Aquarium, and ending the day on a high note by sharing a slice of Max Brenner's infamous chocolate pizza – what else could I ask for?

A week later, our back and forth flirty text messages turned into memories of a previous chapter as the words "mine" and "yours" turned into one, "ours." Dylan was skeptical about where we both were in life, but as we all should know by now, love does nothing but blind your eyes and bind your hearts.

– 

The first rule of going on a date is to always, always keep an open mind and never get your hopes up too high. I would be lying if I said that's how I went on my first date with Dylan. Though I was only 18, I considered myself to be ahead of my years, I was desperate for something stable in my life – and the idea of a healthy relationship deceived my maturity.

Dylan has a very charming smile, along with his struds of confidence, it was love at first sight for me, or at least that's what I thought.

Aside from inheriting a poor eyesight for fashion like most [straight] guys, his sense of humor and maturity outweighs the fact that he paired his black Nike windbreaker with a straight-cut blue denim and sport shoes. My Gucci Aces and Sandro's cashmere felt like an over-the-top outfit for what seemed to be more of a get together rather than a date.

"One Old Fashioned, please," said Dylan to our waitress as we both sat down at Earl's rooftop patio.

"Any drinks for you, sir?" the waitress questioned me.

"Just water for me, thanks," I replied, knowing that my Asian genetics would make me look 16 until I'm 34.

I was scared at the idea of being carded, getting arrested was a big no no in the handbook of being an international student.

I don't mind it at all actually – not drinking. Unlike most Americans my age, I've had my fair share of experience with bars and alcohol back in my home country where the legal age to drink is 18, as it should be. And so, the ability to drink whenever I get the chance to doesn't tempt me at all.

Dylan's choice of drink was bold, giving me an indication that he has an extensive knowledge and a matured palette when it comes to drinking. For me, I'd prefer a glass of martini twist – with gin, not vodka, just like Blair Waldorf.

I have always been in love with the idea of going on dates, or just the idea of being in love. Yes, I did sleep around a lot like most [gays]. But, if there's one thing you should know about life, it's that while old habits die hard, new habits get old.

– 

He held his glass containing the sugar, bitters and whiskey concoction with a firm grip, signaling me that he is a stable man with a clear view of what he wants in life. Condensation drips down my glass of iced water as we exchange our views on mediocre topics over hors d'oeuvres – our likes, hobbies, worst fears, you know, all the basic and non-controversial stuff.

By the time main course arrived, we were already talking about childhood memories and our upbringings. Dylan grew up in a small town in Maine, right by the water. For him, trips to the beach take a fraction of the time compared to skyscrapers in Boston or New York City. He had a very humble upbringing, albeit his family owning a massive land containing four houses, all of which were built by themselves.

Dylan is a country man, and I was a city boy – I grew up around skyscrapers while his childhood was mostly going on adventures in the woods. We were polar opposite, and although I fancy myself an urban savant, Dylan swept my feet off the ground with his rustic charm.