It's our third time together in a little over a year. Her name is Noi and I've lost my heart to her. I'm 53 and she is 27. The age difference means nothing. We were made for each other's arms. She's an Isaan stunner with a smile that could run a power plant. A 40 kilogram perfect woman. In 10 years her curves will only go one way - she'll be shaped like a bowling ball. But I don't care. I'll still love her. She has stretch marks because she has had a son. But I don't care. I'm happy for her. At dinner she rearranges all my cutlery and the food on my plate. I don't care. I think it is charming. She has us riding in stinking hot, Calcutta crowded buses to save a few baht. I don't care. I love her Thainess.
We are staying in the AA Hotel in Pattaya. One morning on the way to the elevator she makes a joke about me being old. In the elevator on the way down, I feel my insides crumbling like unsupported brick walls. My legs feel like lead. When the elevator door opens, I have to throw my feet forward to make my legs work. Suddenly where my feet used to be there are now concrete blocks. I can feel the aorta coming out of the top of my heart clamping down. NOW I CARE.
I didn't deserve this. This isn't reciprocity. The abuse has begun and only I can decide how much I will take. I've now given more than I've received. The tide has turned. It's over. As a younger man I would have invested in positive thinking and tried to make this relationship work. But as the older man that she made fun of in the hallway of the AA Hotel I have wisdom. I know the difference between the rising sun and the setting sun. This sun is setting. Only darkness will follow.
God, they hurt us so much and every man-woman relationship is like a ticking time bomb. And it's never equal. I can speak about 50 Thai words and phrases, but I don't know how to tell a woman she isn't attractive as a female. Noi can speak almost no English but she knows enough to hurt me.
It's over. I'm just a Farang. No matter how open and generous and loving and caring I am; I will always have toilet paper stuck to my shoe.
We spend the day doing the Ko Lan beach and boating tour. She wants me to buy her something. I'm surprised to hear my voice say 'No'. Now I am desperately clutching at pride like a drowning man gripping a life preserver.
Next morning I surprise her with the words 'Chok dee' and put her on the minibus to Bangkok. It's over. I'm a Farang.
© Dana. All rights reserved by the author.

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July 10, 2007, 12:16
Good one Dana. I hope you won't mind me saying that. I could even elaborate a little if you like.