The 'butterflies in the stomach' are eaten by European frogs

Eight years ago, when I was living in Beijing, I met a Dutch boy who was traveling in China. We had a wonderful time together. When we separated, we didn't have any ties or attachments. It was easy and sweet. At that time, I had just changed my second job and worked as an editor in the thought section of a media. He was studying for a master's degree in the design and philosophy program at the Academy of Art. Maybe we were both in the period when we were most curious about knowledge, art, and political landscapes. We kept in touch for about half a year after we separated, and often sent messages to share the latest news in each other's lives.

A year and a half after I moved to Berlin, I reconnected with him by chance. He now teaches at an art academy in the Netherlands, and I write in Berlin. A month later, he said he would come to Berlin to see me. After we agreed to meet, he kept sending me screenshots of our chats eight years ago. We were both surprised that we had maintained such a long and high-quality contact even though we knew we might never see each other again. During those days of constantly recalling the past, I began to look forward to this reunion, not only looking forward to seeing him, but also looking forward to picking up the fragments of my life eight years ago through this reunion.

I didn't think about whether he was in a relationship or what would happen between us, or I felt that whatever would happen would not be too bad, short-term, long-term, or just friendship. Even just telling my experience of these years to an old friend who had lost contact for many years and once shared wonderful times together was enough to be fascinating. After a week or two of anticipation, we finally met. We couldn't wait to exchange what we had experienced in the eight-year gap. However, when everything felt wonderful, he told me calmly that he would live with his date for the last two days of his three days in Berlin, but the 20 hours before he met his date belonged to me. Then he still looked at me affectionately and came to hold my hand. I pulled my hand away in shock, almost unable to believe what I just heard, and said, what can I say, you are really a master of time management.

The atmosphere was not completely broken for the next two or three hours. We were still immersed in reminiscing about the old times, although I couldn't help but start to sneer at the dating ecology of urban cool kids in Europe when we talked about each other's emotional experiences. I joked that I was too "conservative" for this place, and the only place where I could find a date was probably the mosque. Later, I didn't let him stay overnight at home, but arranged another place for him. At two o'clock, I said I was going to rest and asked him to leave my house. He looked at me lingeringly, and I asked him what he was thinking about. He said he was thinking about what you just said, that you are very conservative now. I laughed and said that I didn't let you stay overnight not because I was conservative, but because I no longer felt that my connection with you was special, it became meaningless.

The next morning, I sent him a message to cancel our original plan to hang out. I said that I was offended by his efficient schedule and that I didn’t think it was necessary for us to spend a day together. I still had a lot of work to do. He replied with a long message, saying that in the fog of his other relationships (entanglement with his ex-girlfriend, and new dating), he was not able to better appreciate his feelings for me. He said that he didn’t know how to look forward to meeting me again. He couldn’t believe that the feelings at that time could penetrate all these years. The attraction after meeting caught him off guard, but this was not what he planned. He should have thought that our reunion would evoke many good feelings. How he wished that he had left more time for it, even if it was just to appreciate it. He also apologized for not communicating with me more clearly before, which put us in different expectations. (In fact, he adjusted many times before coming, from staying at my house for three days, to two days, and then to one day. Later I realized that he was calculating some time between the two girls at that time). I replied that I didn't have any fixed expectations, and even if we met again as friends, I would still feel it was precious, at least it was genuine, and didn't make me feel like I was a commodity to be picked up in a supermarket. I'm old enough to recognize my own feelings and know what doesn't mean anything to me.

We met briefly in the evening to hand over the keys. He looked confused and distressed, saying he couldn't understand my reaction and kept asking me what I meant by some of the things I said in the messages. He said that our connection had always been special and sincere to him, so why did I feel it was meaningless. I felt ridiculous for him to be so "naive" and I couldn't imagine that I needed to defend myself for such "human nature". He said maybe we are just very different people, and then started talking about his practice of polyamory. I said that the biggest difference between us might just be that I am more romantic than you.

Connections between people are very precious. They are hard to come by, because scarcity is beauty, and they are not something you can easily find on dating apps. That is why I try to avoid meaningless encounters, cherish my sensitivity, and carefully protect my ability to experience beautiful things. The urban cool kids in Europe think they are very avant-garde, but they are actually very pitiful. With the blessing of dating apps and various trendy labels, sex and emotions have become so easy to obtain and so alienated that in the end no connection is special. They can all be easily replaced. It is just a pursuit of a Coke Zero-style pleasure, refining the enjoyment part and eliminating all risks. In such pleasure, the process of love is dismembered, there is no longer any longing or expectation, and the ability to feel beautiful things is also exhausted.

I said I wasn't angry at him, how he lived his life was his own business, I was angry at him for destroying my memories and making the beautiful visions I had experienced in the past few weeks look like a joke in retrospect. How beautiful were our memories eight years ago? He left Beijing for Tokyo, and then had a one-hour layover in Beijing when he returned to Europe from Tokyo. I ran to the airport to find him, and we lingered in different corners of the terminal, changing corners every 5 minutes, trying to stretch this hour. That was the longest hour in my life. I lost contact with him completely in the following eight years, and I didn't know what he was doing, but the hour in the terminal always flashed in my mind from time to time. He polluted my cherished memories, and it will always be accompanied by a shadow when I recall it again.

I'm not sure if he understood what I said. After moving to Berlin, I often felt that the world of white people was too simple and boring. After saying goodbye to him, I went to the bar to chat with my Yemeni girlfriend. She moved to Berlin at the same time as me and was very integrated into the dating life in Berlin. After I told her about this incident and my feelings, she suddenly hugged me and said that she had suddenly found the reason for her self-loathing after being immersed in this dating life for more than a year, "The butterflies in my stomach are gone, they were eaten by the frogs here!" ("Butterflies in the stomach" is equivalent to "a deer bumping around" in Chinese)

I think if this reunion after eight years has caused any kind of collision between me and my past self, it is probably that I feel that it is really good to be in my thirties, knowing what I want and what is meaningless, being more honest with my feelings, and not fooling myself to fill the narcissism of others. This is something I could not imagine when I was in my twenties.

The next night, I ate peaches at home, my mouth was full of sweetness, and after I finished eating, Ake handed me a peanut crisp that looked delicious. I said I didn't want to eat it anymore, I wanted the taste of peach to stay in my mouth for a while longer. After saying that, I smiled, isn't this the reason why I don't like the dazzling dating life?