What is the story of how you met your spouse?

She made it to Australia 🇦🇺

That’s where it began. I took to the 5-star hotel. My best friend met her. We made out on the bed. We would meet the next, final day, before I left. We went to the market buying souvenirs. We said goodbye.

I was having sex with a beautiful slim blonde El Salvadorian-Australian with a cute little butt. She was rough and took life by the horns. We met at bar. I was 24, she was 21. I was drunk, she played footsie under the table. Her name was Cathrine. We kissed at the tram stop.

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We’re madly in love.

Or just mad ❤️

Stunned. She was on time. To the minute. A head shorter than me, that’s rare (I’m 5’5”). She spoke with a beautiful accent, like French, but more unique. She was gorgeous and enthusiastic. I was taken off guard like being tackled on a football match. I mixed my words. I can’t believe she was on time. She led the way. I checked out her butt in her jeans, it was nice. We walked through the garden to the restaurant.

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The Twin Towers sparkled in silver against the sun. There’s a bridge in the garden directly beneath them. We agreed to met on it. A spectacular view, romantic even. I arrived on time. Tardiness is my pet peeve. The sun hot, the clock in the tower struck 12 flat (12:30 I’m told). I turned from the railing to my right. A tiny dazzling beauty skipped right into my face, a wide excited smile grinning ear to ear. Hello

“That’s okay, I have a boyfriend”

I got back to my girlfriend. Weeks later my family booked a farm house. We all stayed. Plenty of couples. We were going to bed, my girlfriend ask for my phone. To watch videos while in the bathroom. We got in bed, she was shaking. “Why do you have tinder on your phone?”. It was time to resign from McDonalds.

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It’s a wild and unconventional story. It’s been raw, hard and traumatic. We just don’t want to let go.

I had a fantasies of older woman. I made up a bullshit story. Messaged her enquiring about company roles. She took the bait. It felt like reeling in a fish. She invited me over. I seized the opportunity. Took my girlfriend’s car and told her a lie. I’d never cheated in my life.

She lived in Canberra, 700km away. I rode my motorbike. I told everyone I was seeing a friend, my dad clicked. I arrived and she filled a trolley with alcohol and grabbed herself a bouquet. Later we got cocaine, hung out with the dealer. We slept together. She was always standoffish, until her panties came down.

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We reminisced as I wrote about that day in the aquarium.

We walked around the War Memorial. Pointed out the SAS troops she knew. He’s a dickhead, and him, him too. My boyfriend won’t touch you. I believed her, she was strong. We got ushered to a formal memorial with a trumpet playing to remember the fallen. We were high on cocaine. It was a bizarre experience. She reminded me years later.

I went to the party. Six people sitting on the floor. We took hits of a bottle. Everyone passed out except me. I took the girl home. She broke up with a white guy. In the morning I ran my fingers softly along her back, turned away. She shifted uncomfortably. I continued to her thighs. Waiting for resistance. I crept near her panties. She turned suddenly, grabbed my hand and rubbed it over her pussy. Her panties were soaked. I couldn’t leave her like that.

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We had scandals. Mostly my promiscuous behaviour and bi-curiosity. We clashed, broke up, broke down. We separated and I moved to Canada. But I’m scrapping that and I return home to her in 18 days.

The house was huge, and empty. Her German Shepard, pat in circles in a small muddy yard. We went to the War Memorial, no idea why. She asked if I loved my girlfriend. I think so. She questioned “Then why are you here?” I didn’t know. Neither of us did. The conversation stopped. She liked to take control.

The Malaysia trip I paid. I invited my best friend. 5-star hotel, 7 days in Kuala Lumpur. We’d never been overseas. A friend showed us around. It got boring. I jumped on tinder and made some matches. Two Asian girls, another middle-eastern. I slept with an Egyptian before my ex-girlfriend. She was cool, she told magical stories of the desert, her large brown tits melted in my hands and her pussy a perfect match. I was happy to meet a middle-easterner.

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We drank wine. Talked. It was natural. Like dolphins on a wave. She sat next to me, laid down and we kissed. We took into the bedroom. I fucked her. He had nice breast, long brown hair. Her bathroom was filthy. The sink caked with toothpaste. I was disgusted and left.

We left the aquarium arm in arm. She applied her lipstick and kissed the aquarium ticket 💋 I still have it.

I discovered we’re “anxious-avoidant”. The time alone allowed me to reflect on myself and behaviours for the first time in my life. We both committed to therapy together.

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We went to the KLCC aquarium. We felt a spark. It didn’t feel forced. Two completely different people exploring together. It was innocent and sweet. We sat at a viewing platform. Fish floated by slowly. Time seem to stand still. A class of kids came and went. We hardly noticed. We didn’t want to leave. She said my heart was beating fast. I was nervous. I told her you need you to kiss me to slow it down. She kissed me on the cheek.

The relationship to my girlfriend, was like a shift at McDonald’s. Clock in, clock out. A dull floorboard. I chatted up a 50+ year old on Facebook, Rachel. A big company sales director. She posted a “Go Lions” comment under a Footy Show post. She was hot.

“I have a girlfriend”

My ex moved on so fast. How can I overcome the pain?

I forgot the girl waiting at KLCC.

The day I arrived in Australia. I called her on FaceTime. She told be she never expected me to call. We’d did that everyday for the next 5.5 years of our long-distance relationship.

Black hair, red lipstick. Is my type. I prefer tan skin. They don’t match. This girl, was a perfect blend of everything. All the women I adored, mushed into one. My sister said she looked like my debutant partner from High School. This girl, her face felt familiar, yet was unique. I asked her plans, she had none.

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I met Catherine. We drove, she spilt her tea, we walked arm in arm. Her boyfriend was on deployment. Who knows where. She hated it. Terribly lonely. Her family in Melbourne, her in another city alone. I booked at room at the casino and fucked some more. She invited me to stay at her place for 3 days.

Kuala Lumpur was boring by day 5. I met a nice Malaysian girl for dinner. It was uneventful. She was smitten. We booked a date that night. I flirted with the middle-eastern girl. She had 3 photos. They were grainy, unclear, mismatched. The Egyptian experience pushed me, we scheduled for 12 pm for lunch at KLCC, the twin towers.

Her profile read “Just checking out hot guys”. We matched. I asked her if she’d found any yet. I was riding a high, the new country, the freedom. I was cheeky. One of the Asian girls asked to join a party, the other straight up asked for sex. I’m not in Australia.

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I met Cathrine weeks or months after. Cheating on my girlfriend opened a can of worms. It felt easy. Fun. Why not. I clocked into our McDonalds apartment. My girlfriend and I booked a trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I wasn’t interested. Poor girl.

He was an SAS soldier.

The restaurant sucked. I got pathetic mushroom entree. She passed. She was from Iran. A student living with her sister. I’d never met a Persian. It fascinated me, the middle-east. I spoke about Australia, she smiled a lot. She had a gorgeous wide smile, with luscious lips puckered with red lipstick. It contrasted against dark brown hair, eyes and skin. Her hair in a fishtail. She only wore eyeliner. She was a natural beauty.

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We drove home at 2am. Everyone was concerned. She cried the whole 1.5 hours home. We tried to sleep. She was gone the next morning. Someone cheated on her before. Catherine was in the same bed the next night. It was bizarre, like it was her plan. Kicked the girlfriend of 1.5 years out of her house, pulled the sheets over and slept in her spot.