Last weekend I hosted a Couchsurfer at home for the first time – a Brazilian guy on a 40-day solo trip around the world. He was really great. We got along really well. Actually a little too well…
Shit happened. And me, being an idiot, I got weird. And me, being an idiot, I had to bring up the weirdness, and then stupidly apologise for it, which made things awkward. The good shit ceased, the conversation didn’t flow as before, intense became tense, and I could tell he wasn’t having fun anymore. And regrettably, it was on that note that his trip ended.
He spent his last night (Monday) at the Marina Bay Sands, a 57-storey luxury hotel in the city. So he most definitely could have afforded to pay for (any other) hotel for his first three nights, but he chose to surf for his first three nights here for the experience and to meet local folks. I still got invited to see his room, still got invited to the famous infinity pool on the 57th floor, but let me tell ya, the tension was palpable. He acted like I was the only one being a weirdo (“Jesus! What happened to you? You were fine this morning but now since you came to the hotel you’ve been so tense!” – the only outburst he had) but believe me, he was being a weirdo too. Still he said to me, “This isn’t the end. Work is going to send me here at some point, I know it.” But even if we do meet again I know things will be weird. I’m certain he only said it for the sake of it.
So. Yeah. Bollixed that one up, I did. I’m mad at myself, because I don’t know why I acted the way I did. But I did, and…what can you do? He fucked off to the next leg of his trip this morning – Hong Kong. And I’m the one left here with “feelings”. And not only that, but his perfume bottle broke and the scent lingers on his (my) pillow and in “his” room as well. I’m sure that this is because I’m overly dramatic, but I kept catching whiffs of his scent all day today, everywhere. Damn!
I may never host anyone again. Human relationships are too hard. And I’m too much of an idiot to get things right.