So here it is, I’m writing a post from sunny Malta. I’ve just decided to sit down on a bench at this lovely little bay because I spotted an uber hot topless boy swimming around in his water taxi, looking for passengers who would like to swim to the other side of the bay.
Coincidentally, his swim-shorts (way too loose, by the way) match my eye colour. We should totally get married. Actually, I am not entirely sure he is a water taxi driver, maybe he just likes swimming around like a peacock / attention seeking hoe. Either way, I wouldn’t mind taking a ride…
As you can tell from my sexual frustration, I did not get laid and I am being very well-behaved. Fml.
Anyway, spotting this hot young man made me realise I really ought to post something on my lovely Around the World in 80 Mens. So, my dear readers (reader? friend I forced to read? paid to read?), here’s my sunny Maltese post!
As we have already established, I am currently in Malta. And just like many countries around the world, Malta has a little romance story of mine connected to it. More than one, actually. But let’s start from the beginning!
It was back in 2011, when I was young and stupid and decided to FLY to Malta FOR A DATE. Because why would I just go to a local Costa to meet a guy who can actually physically be with me, that would be so mainstream. So, I decided to fly to Malta instead. I booked it two days before the flight date, slightly over £250, a rather costly date. But at least I have something to write about on my super popular blog with 3 subscribers (including myself, clicked something by accident and can’t be arsed to fix it).
I found the guy on Facebook. Let’s call him Fred, shall we? He was a friend of my female Maltese friend. Knowing how lonely and messed up I am, she suggested I add him on Facebook, because cause he is gay, hot and single. And so I did! We talked for a few weeks and it seemed we clicked, so I was like, oh let me take a 4 hour flight and go for a date, why not?!
Okay, before you judge me, bear in mind that in the city I live there’s absolutely no one mutually interested in me, so this desperate move was quite justified (see previous posts, nothing changed).
So I flew in to Malta for two days (lol) and he was indeed cute and he seemed to be all over me, which at times was a bit too much. For example, he told me that I am … wait for it… beautiful like a – direct quote – magical creature.
Yes, I am a bit of a sexy gay elf/centaur, ain’t I? A hot gay unicorn mhmm.
I know, I know… I should have know there’s something not quite right the minute he said it. But hey, it does make you feel unique when someone calls you a magical creature! And he was really cute and nice.
Also, I absolutely fell in love with Malta! When booking my flight, I never actually thought much of the country. I’ve never even googled how it looks – it was just about the date. I remember my (embarrassing) shock when I came out of the airport and saw palm trees. I had no clue it’s so exotic. AT LEAST I KNEW IT WAS AN ISLAND.
It was December, but it was sunny and beautiful. The narrow streets of Mdina, the Silent City, looked surreal, like something out of a Disney cartoon.
I’ve never seen something so beautiful. This was before I went on a road trip South of France, which cute towns curved in rocks or built on majestic hills also look like a surreal fairy tale. It was my first encounter with such architecture and I was very excited. So excited, my Maltese friend actually told me I should stop “behaving like a fucking Japanese” (bit racist, isn’t it?!), because I was talking photos literally on every corner.
My visit came to an end and it seemed to go well. Fred said he’d like to come over to England in January to see me, he hold my hand while driving etc. etc.
I flew back to the cold wintertime England and a day or two later, I woke up for work, as so many people do. While I was going through the icy pavements towards the office, my Fred messaged me on Whatsapp saying he is actually not interested in me anymore, that he has this thing where he gets bored of people and he doesn’t want to hurt me later on, so we shouldn’t talk. I was shocked and confused, typing dramatically while walking to the office trying not to be late. I will always remember that early winter morning, mainly because I slipped on the bloody black ice and wounded my hand so badly I have a scar to this day.
It bled like hell and a day later it got infected, smelling like a damp room. And it’s not just a scar, no, it’s kind of… wait for it.. HEART SHAPED scar, reminding me not to fly 2000km for dates and that men are unpredictable fucktards.
Soon after this failed Ryanair date, I was determined to give Malta another go. After all, it’s such a beautiful country and I love the Maltese accent. I think it’s second most adorable thing after Frenglish (English with French accent). I found another cute guy on Facebook, so in a manner of a psycho stalker, I sent him a friend request. Let’s call him Leo. He accepted my creepy friend request and we stated to talk. It’s cute cause at first he wasn’t sure I was gay, so kept making references to girls. He played the piano (so very cultured), he was really cute, he was well-read (he could read!) and most of all we shared the same crazy sense of humour. We could share YouTube links and laugh our asses off at things that normal people would find awkward or beyond comprehension. We talked a lot. I remember at some point Leo told me that he talks with me much more than with any of his ex boyfriends. It was early 2012 and we were both busy studying, wrapping up the academic year. I was mainly panicking about my going-nowhere dissertation.
I think it was for Valentine’s Day (or maybe for his birthday in March) that I sent Leo a Shakespeare mug. He sent me his a beautiful copy of his favourite book, Wuthering Heights. I was really excited when he said he will visit his family in London in few weeks so that we could meet. I was really looking forward to it.
Then in March, I flew for a conference in Baku, Azerbaijan and through some strange series of events, I met my Azeri (future ex) boyfriend. It was unexpected. It happened fast. When I went back to England, I had to focus on finishing my dissertation, which was honestly going nowhere. I was convinced I will just fail my degree, I’ve spent too much time on research and not enough on actually writing the crap up. I was used to writing my research papers a night before the deadline and getting As or Bs, but you can’t really do it with a 50 page long dissertation.
So the day came when Leo came to London. And I just couldn’t go, I was too stuck with my dissertation and too scared that if I take a weekend trip to London (5 hours drive), I will just screw up my degree classification. I might have been right, because I ended up at the very borderline of a 2:1 degree. Either way, I was rude and didn’t meet him. Later on, I somehow started dating the Azeri guy, who I already met and who moved to Central Europe. I wasn’t sure if it was the right choice. It just happened.
So now, after nearly 4 years, I am back in Malta. It might have been my recent drama about potentially having cancer, which made me realised that I would really regret not meeting Leo before I die (how very dramatic). I also had another Maltese friend on Facebook, who I wanted to meet and let’s call him William. He was also funny and a very nice guy. But before you think I have some Maltese fetish, I’d like to stress out that William is just a friend, nothing romantic.
To be honest, after I started dating my Azeri bf, Leo also became far from romantic. Somehow our relationship moved from cute and romantic to bitchy and constantly insulting in a fun but mean way. It changed a lot, didn’t even notice when.
Either way, we’ve been talking online for close to four years and I finally came to visit. He’s actually cuter than his pics. He’s just as nice as I remembered and just as funny. However, he didn’t even hint any sort of interest in me. Can’t blame him, it was me who didn’t drive up to London 4 years ago. And who knows, perhaps nothing would develop from that anyway. But it does make me wonder… Where would my life go, if we did meet back then. To be honest, it made me a bit sad towards the end of my visit. Consequently, also made me look like a boring sad quiet bitch, but oh well.
What was particularly sad was that, on our first night out in Malta, he just started dancing with this tall German guy, snogging him and then going to his place for a fuck… I guess I can’t blame him. Perhaps I’m just not attractive in real life.. I know things changed a lot in the past four years. And it seems he hooks up quite frequently and casually… I mean, we all do hook ups, but it just seems he’s really into it. Also, apparently he knew that German guy before, so it seems to be a regular…
It’s weird, because four years ago it was all quite romantic, sending each other presents, and now he tells me stories like “I went down to fuck with this guy but he was weird but at least he had a big dick.” So not sure what else was I expecting.
It just made me very reflective about life and change and the choices we make…
Also, on my second night out we bumped into Fred the You Look Like A Magical Creature guy!! In the past years he became a bodybuilder and did his law degree abroad. Funny thing, because I’ve been told he never goes out to that gay club and he just came back to Malta anyway. Trust my luck. He was quite cute, it was a bit like from Gwen Stefani’s Cool music video, just less romantic and shorter. And me not having a bigass fancy mansion or a leopard print dress.
It was quite entertaining to see his shocked face . He was like “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MALTA?!” And I was like “I’M BACK!”
That night I randomly disappeared and woke up alone in my hotel room. I must say I did have a black out, but I am sure I know what happened. It’s an old safety mechanism.
I got super drunk, I felt sad and forever alone, I realised the guy I like is not into me and I won’t find any alternative for the night so, to save myself the embarrassment and sorrow, my body automatically goes into a shut down and run home mode. It automatically ends my night out. I just magically get home safely. Like a magical creature haha
I am really quite disappointed because I went out twice and haven’t even kissed a guy.
I had this thing every time I went out to London’s Heaven club, where I refused to leave without AT LEAST kissing a guy. Once I actually kissed a guy on my way out next to the cloakroom. Purely to tick the box. I feel I should to do the same in Malta.