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Imi was born and raised in Europe, Hungary. After finishing his school years, he moved to Canada to search for a better life. He lived in Toronto for 13 years and currently resides in Vancouver. He is a romantic at heart with a strong desire to always do the right thing. He would like to give hope to the Chinese and Asian ladies with his story and send a message that love eventually finds everybody.
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Moments of Our Relationship - Somewhere in The Rain    

By Imi
1606 Views | 5 Comments | 9/16/2016 11:50:09 AM

“Come in,” I said.



“What are you doing?” Janessa asked, pushing her head through the small opening as she opened the door.



“I'm reading. Do you want to use the toilet?”



“Yes, but why are you reading here?”



“Because the blinds were closed, and I didn't want to turn the lights on and wake you up. But, apparently, I've just managed to do that.”



Janessa smiled and stepped in front of me. I was slouching over the book with my elbows against my knees, and my eyes got in line with her black panties. She lifted my head, using both of her hands, looked into my eyes and said, “You know, Imi, Chinese men wouldn't do this.”



“What do you mean? Sitting in the bathroom and looking at your panties?”



“No. Not that.” She giggled. “They wouldn't care if they had woken me up or not. You are a very considerate man.”



“Well, I don't know about that. The only thing I know is I'm not Chinese. Other than that, I'm just a man,” I said as I dropped the book on the floor, grabbed her waist, and pulled her into my arms. She wore only a small tank-top. I buried my face in her chest between her boobies and deeply inhaled the lazy morning scent of her skin.



Janessa put her arms around my head and said, “Imi, I've never met a man like you before,” she stated in a soft tone that demanded an answer by its gentleness.



“I know, Baby,” I muffled the words into her breasts, “I'm white, not Chinese.”



“Yes, but what I mean is that. . . Arghhh!. . . Never mind!. . . You take everything as a joke,” she said, and I heard the inflection of her words reaching the level of disappointment. She stopped hugging my head, and I looked up at her.



“Baby, I know exactly what you mean, and I feel the same. I've never met a woman like you, but let's not talk about this right now. I mean, here.” I motioned with my head. “In the bathroom. You are standing, almost stark naked, fighting your bladder from bursting, and I'm sitting on a chair while Misery is lying between us on the floor,” I said, picking up the book from the floor and standing up.



She began to smile.



“You wanted to use the toilet,” I said, grabbed the chair, and closed the door behind me, giving her some privacy.



I sat down on the couch in the hotel room and had to admit to myself I got scared for a moment in the bathroom. I was scared because, after Lily and Jasmine, I wanted to be more careful about what I said to a woman. The scary thing was that I had some control over my words, but I still couldn't figure out how to keep my feelings at bay. It felt good to hear her say, I've never met a man like you before. But I wanted to be the one who talked about his feelings first. And somehow, I felt that the bathroom didn't fit into the category where I pictured doing it.



I heard her start the shower. It was time for a damage assessment.



The trail of my shed clothes led from the couch all the way to the bathroom door. Janessa had begun to laugh at once when she saw me standing in the middle of the bathroom, wearing only socks and a shower cap on my bald head that I grabbed from the top of the vanity.



“Please, don't. . .” she said, hardly being able to control her laughs, grabbing her stomach, and at the same time, trying to stay under the shower. “You're crazy.”



That's what I needed to see to have another perfect morning.



Damage control was successful.



I removed every unnecessary thing (socks, shower cap) and stepped in the shower only with my required equipment to make her even happier.



At nine in the morning, we were already in a small family restaurant, having a late breakfast. The weather, all of a sudden, turned ugly outside. The rain was coming down hard. We were supposed to meet Janessa's father at his home at ten. We gobbled down the food in ten minutes and were about to leave the restaurant when the waiter said to Janessa that a typhoon was heading our way. Janessa had only a small umbrella, and I owned, since I'm bald, no umbrella at all.



We stepped outside and managed to reach the main road from the side road where the restaurant was located without a major hitch. My primary concern was keeping Janessa dry under her small umbrella. The only casualties of the typhoon's forerunners were my sneakers that had already been giving out sloshing sounds as we walked and my white shirt that soaked up the rain water and began stretching almost to my knees, rather looking like a dress than a man's shirt.



Just as I finished surveying my clothes, an engined pedicab stopped right next to us. The driver asked something from Janessa who then scanned the main road with her eyes for a few seconds, turned to me, and asked, “Do you want to go by this to my father's home? I can't see any taxi heading this way.”



“Sure, why not? I've never ridden one before.”



I only saw the driver's face lit up with a smile when Janessa told him what we decided; otherwise, he was completely covered in a darkish, green tarp. His head protruded through a slit that was cut in the middle of it.



He looks macho in it, I thought as my envious eyes wandered from his tarp to my “dress.” Janessa had already been sitting in the pedicab, which was protected from the top and three sides and looked dry enough inside. I followed her into the pedicab, and the driver took off from the side of the road.



The pedicab was noisy, and the exhaust promptly began to do its best to poison both of us by the time we had reached our destination. The rainwater found its way inside through a few holes in the top, too. Regardless of these small nuisances, surprisingly, I was in a good mood. I was on my way to meet Janessa's father, clad in a dress and sloshing sneakers.



My mind was busy, collecting these small moments, and I smiled inside. There was a partial image in my head about to be completed. The only thing left to do was to finish it with a few more details and interpret the feelings that I felt by watching it.



I enjoyed very much being with Janessa. I hadn't felt this kind of relaxed enjoyment when I visited Lily. When I was with her, there was only one image in my head: her teasing, sexy body, dressed in sexy clothes that were off limits for me to take off. In the end, that image had fallen to pieces like a jigsaw puzzle, and the pieces had covered my mind for months.



At the exact moment when I had come to the realization that there was not one piece of the image left of Lily in my head, and after Jasmine, I had met Janessa.



New moments had started building themselves into memories, and then, slowly, a new image began to build in my head. Janessa's face had been completed first. Then, for the first time, I had visited her, tiny moments brought more liveliness, and the memories started to paint the image in vivid details. By the time I had to leave China, the image was half-finished in my head. I just hoped that Janessa looked at the same half-finished image in her head that I admired so much in mine.



Slowly, in that miserable weather, as the pedicab chugged in the rain, trying to suffocate us to death, I clearly came to understand one thing: as long as Janessa was with me, I would always find something positive that would make the circumstances better than they actually were, even when the sun quit shining.



Finally, somewhere in the rain, on my second trip of visiting her, I had finished the picture. The moment was perfect. Pouring rain or choking fumes didn't matter to my heart when it wanted to reveal something. I turned to her and simply said, “Janessa, I love you.”



She didn't have to say anything. I saw it in her eyes. She loved me, too.


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(Showing 1 to 5 of 5) 1
#2016-09-16 11:48:22 by JohnAbbot @JohnAbbot

Imi, what are you trying to do? You're going to have all the Chinese women dreaming again, and all the guys all tied in knots about us actually publishing romantic content on a dating site. I see trouble brewing!



However, from CLM's point of view, it is damned refreshing to have some blogs back that actually remind us why we're all here. And this is not meant as a shot at the bloggers, because I have been just as remiss as anyone at failing to blog about things that are romantic, and that will help members feel more hopeful about finding their true love here on CLM. 



We've gotten stale, with the exception perhaps of Melcyan and maybe Ryan. Thanks for reminding us of this and bringing us back to our core reason for being.



This was a good blog BTW, very visual. I was able to see it all in my imagination, very clearly. It was enjoyable, a good read and made me want to go hug my wife. Cheers! 


#2016-09-17 02:04:23 by anonymous15507 @anonymous15507

Imi, I really enjoyed this bolg episode. I agree the weather in China can turn on a dime and usually catches us unprepared. Two things I want to comment on. Firstly I cant believe you can gobble Chinese food early in the morning and not get stomach troubles, you must have a cast iron stomach, sadly I don't. Secondly I had no idea what sneakers were lol as a Canadian we call them runners, Americans use the term sneakers or tennis shoes..I had to look up what sneakers were lol.

 

Thanks for a romantic break here from all the darker blogs here on this site.

Cheers...

#2016-09-17 21:02:23 by Imi5922 @Imi5922

John, you don't know how much I envy you for being able to go and hug your wife anytime you want. Janessa and I are going to have a tough first year right from the beginning. Canadian immigration sucks!

 

@anonymous15507

 

I can't gobble down Chinese food in minutes. Janessa can because to her, it's just food. Although, in the morning, she usually eats soup. And I cheat everytime I can. I ask the restaurant to make six egg whites with vegetables. I can eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And believe it or not, nine out of ten restaurants would make it for you without questions, even if it's not on their menus. I enjoy a bit of celebrity status in Yangchun, Janessa's hometown. I made some acquaintances in the hotel where we stay, and its restaurant and also in the gym where we go every morning. So most of the time I can eat what I eat in Canada and use the same protein shakes as well. I even made Janessa's family try it, and they liked it. Six egg whites, vegetables, and a cup of rice. That's my secret for having an iron stomach.
I'd learned the term "sneakers" when I was in high school, back in Hungary. Sneakers were part of the PE uniform. Blue sneakers, white socks, blue shorts, and white t-shirts. Can you imagine running in those thin rubber-soled shoes on asphalt? When I moved to Canada, I realized Canadians didn't understand the term. Well, one less Canadian who doesn't understand it I guess.

 

I hope John will keep a section in the new CLM for "darker" blogs because sometimes I like to bitch and whine about politicians and their sneaky masters in the background. What you are not going to see me here on a dating site is bitching about women. Every relationship depends on two individuals, a man and a woman. But nowadays, it can also be man and man or woman and woman. Anyway, my point is that everybody who openly wants to bleat about another person or, the other gender, should look deep inside first before he opens his mouth.    

#2016-10-03 00:32:41 by anonymous15574 @anonymous15574

Imi, I have not heard the term PE for a longtime, my own kids call it Gym class now.

I do agree that any person should think and rethink before speaking, putting pen to paper or hitting the send button on their keyboard. I have found the directness and simplistic words, approach, viewpoint of my Chinese partner refreshing, naive, exasperating, lovable and frustrating.

I do not always enjoy the darker blogs here as there is more than enough of that outside of this site in the real world at any given second. I guess me being a romantic at heart I much prefer reading about actual relationships, successful or unsuccesful as this is what we are all here for......me: for leaning as much as I can from my brothers and sisters here in hopes it will help me in my own relationship as well if I can help others in their relationships with any of my words or experiences then that is wonderful as well.

On an off the subject question, you have never mentioned what your favourite Chinese dish to eat is....

 

long live the Vancouver Canucks!!!!!  (rock)

#2016-10-04 05:52:30 by Imi5922 @Imi5922

@anonymous15574

 

I am a pig, so I eat everything. :) However, my favourite Chinese meal could be hot and sour soup followed by stir-fried any meat with a cup of rice. I'm a food lover, and I like to try out every cuisine that there is at least once. My all time favourite will always be Hungarian foods, but I can say, without a doubt, I've got an international stomach. Although as I got older, my belly began to disapprove of really spicy foods. Age, even if you don't like it, sneaks up on you and steals these little delights of your life.               

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