Day five

Do you remember me telling you about the YouTube video I had watched about ‘How you know he likes you in an LDR?’ At the time, I had four out of the five. I now have all five – him taking you to places that are important to him, ie places from his past.

Day five was another fantastic day. We visited another city, about an hour away from Wild Card’s home, where he grew up and his parents lived for 30 years until they moved in recently with Wild Card.

Wow, it was a beautiful city. Whilst his parents ran errands, Wild Card showed me round, pointing out his school and college, where they used to live and places that he used to go to study.

We then drove up the mountain to see the city from up high, parking at a viewpoint balcony where we took lots of pictures.

It was here that one of the many little things happened, that just make my heart swell for him.

We had been stood with his parents, taking in the view, and Wild Card was taking our photo. It was time to go so I picked up my bag and we started to walk away. There was a shout and I turned to see a young girl, probably around eleven, speaking to me (which Wild Card translated) and pointing at my sunglasses that I had left behind on the balcony wall . As I picked them up, he walked over to her and they spoke. His body language was so… caring, I can’t think of another word for it, as he bent down to listen to her. We walked to the car and Wild Card spoke to his mother as he got in. He then rummaged in his car before calling the girl over and giving her money – a few coins, I don’t know what. As she walked away, Wild Card’s mother also called her over and gave her more. It was then that I noticed her clothing – it was clear that she was impoverished although that hadn’t been so evident on first sight. I don’t know how much they gave her, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the fact they did, it’s the fact he did.

We then drove to the major city in the area, a tourist hot-spot and where the majority of his extended family live.

As we got out the car he warned me to stay close as the area was very busy and it would be easy for me to get lost. He then proceeded to tell me what to do if we were separated which, whilst a little scary, just again showed his care and attention for me.

As did the fact that he wouldn’t let me spend any money. We had gone to the market so that I could buy presents for my children. As this was the kind of place where you barter, I wasn’t surprised when he took control to speak to the merchants but was so when he wouldn’t let me get my money out to pay, ‘later, later’. Later never came. I kept asking him how much I owed him and he kept saying, ‘I don’t know’ and then ‘It doesn’t matter’.

It does matter though. I’ve paid for nothing. He has fed me, including buying special and probably expensive foods because of my gluten allergy. The amount of driving he has done to take me to places and the fuel he must have used… The presents he and his family have now bought for me and my children… And he won’t let me pay for anything. I have told him that I want to buy his family gifts to thank them for looking after me, particularly his mother who has gone out of her way to accommodate my gluten intolerance, and he just won’t engage. In fact, he actually seems uncomfortable when I ask him what I could buy, does he have any ideas.

And then there’s meal times, Day five a prime example of his care for me. Every day he attends to my needs first, cutting the special bread his mother has baked for me, spooning food on to my plate regularly, pouring more tea as soon as my cup is empty. On this occasion though, he went a step further. His mother had made beautiful fried fish, small – perhaps sardine side. As he put some on my plate he asked if I liked them and I said yes – I enjoy fish although admittedly I don’t eat that much at home.

To my horror though, I then watched as he and his brother began to debone the fish before eating, something of which I have never done, and he told me to be careful of the bones. As soon as I started to try to do this with my own portion, it was evident to him I hadn’t done this before. He took over, pulling small mouthful of fish off the bones and putting them on to my plate. I attempted a number of times to tell him to eat himself, that I could do it now I knew how, but he wouldn’t listen and insisted on preparing my fish for me throughout the meal.

Today, day six, is my last day.

I started writing this post at 5am as once again I had woken up, this time thinking about my departure.

I don’t want to leave him.

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