Longtime readers will recognize the name Sveta, who is one of the most active commenters on this site. She also blogs about her latest reads on her book review blog (where she reviews a variety of books , including titles featuring with Asian men and Western women in love).
She shared with me this story of how she met a young Chinese PhD student via myspace, which eventually led to one extraordinary kiss — and, later, a sudden end to their month-long courtship. Thank you for submitting your story, Sveta!
I haven’t listened to Blackduck in ages. I turn on the record to help me recall that fateful day of heaven, and the ending from hell. Mementoes lie beside me: a fan of wood that looks Spanish depicting the twelve beauties of Jinling, and five books of the Dream of the Red Chamber which took me few years to read and finish and fall in love with. All of it reminds me of him, of 2006 when I was only twenty years old, of a meeting and of a lifetime kiss. To this day I miss what I knew of him.
We began in late January of 2006, when myspace was popular, when Facebook was only a tiny blip before it became an inferno of society. I recall being honest with myself, that yes, I did like Asian men, I did find them attractive. I joined a group for women who find Asian men attractive and posted on there.
In late January of 2006 he sent me a myspace message introducing himself. He was born in June of 1982, as I recall, and was going for a PhD at the University of Texas Southwestern. Oh how gawky I felt. I didn’t even possess an associates degree but only had high school diploma at the time (today I have a bachelors degree in history, and would not have felt awkward). He was attractive, with a heavily accented voice. All I recall is he came from somewhere near Shanghai, but for the life of me cannot recall the city or region he is from. He told me he joined the myspace group as a dare, saw my post, saw I lived near him and decided to send me a message. Our month long correspondence began.
I didn’t drive and neither did he, but I wanted to meet and suspected he did as well. But I felt intimidated around him. He was smarter than I am and knew words I never heard of. Yet some emotions blossomed. Our courtship included phone calls, and once in a while we would turn our webcams on, while talking on the phone and watching one another’s movements. These moments I enjoyed greatly. He asked for my address and then on Valentine’s Day a van arrived bringing me a pot of pink star-shaped blossoms. I felt happy, for I never had anyone do that before.
I recall he began to pull away, or so I felt. But somehow we agreed to meet on March 8th, 2006, International Women’s Day. My sister drove me to UT Southwestern as I listened to Blackduck music in the back, the anxiety gripping me tightly. The scenery of familiar houses, grasses, and restaurants passed me by, and UT Southwestern became the focal point. After she parked the car, I walk towards the building and saw him. He was slightly taller than me, with a haircut I didn’t like. In honesty, he didn’t look as handsome as I had hoped. He met my mom and my sister, bowing to them slightly and we were left together. I brought a camera and we walked to a cafeteria where we ordered hamburgers that fell apart when we ate them. I laughed and joked about that. I gave him a box of chocolates as a late Valentine’s gift and he allowed me to take two chocolates. He gave me an elongated green box holding a delicate fan of wood. The box appeared to be used, but when I opened it I smelled a delightful fragrance inside. I joked about being a Spanish señorita and he took some pictures of me with the fan, while I took some of him. I have some of us together. The gift depicted some of the twelve most beautiful girls in China, the twelve beauties of Jingling from a story titled Dream of the Red Chamber. I recall he told me a little about it. Eventually I would get an English translation in 2010 and would read it.
After finishing up our hamburgers, we held hands and walked around the parking lot, where I came to know him better. I learned that he liked the TV show called Friends — a show I only watched once and never again — and how he looked forward to doing things with me next time. During this time, I grew to like him more and more. I am guilty to say that I knew next to nothing about Chinese culture and I pressured him to kiss me. I thought it would be a simple peck, but it wasn’t. The kiss turned out to be a French kiss. Afterwards, I experienced a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of finding what I was searching for. I was bad with words, so all I told him was that the kiss was different, but tried to reassure him that it was good. After the kiss he walks me back to the car and tells me, my mom and my sister goodbye. We then drove back.
A few days later we were on MSN messenger and he reassured me that he had a good time. But that was the last I ever heard from him. Then he disappeared, never to reappear again. Why did he leave? Maybe it was because I couldn’t really articulate how much I liked his kiss, or I overstepped my boundaries in pressuring him to kiss me. Perhaps he felt I called him too much.
Surprisingly, what I did learn from that meeting is that sometimes it’s better to take things slowly — and that romantic fairy tale kisses really do exist.
Sveta still searches for her true Asian love, but currently pours her passion into reading and sharing her latest reads on her book review blog.
We’re looking for a few good stories from Chinese men and Western women in love — or out of love — to share on Fridays. Submit your original story or a published blog post today.