Chapter 57: Dinner from hell There was a winter in my childhood where I spent most afternoons after school in the library, because the heating had been switched off at home. Mom could only pay some of the bills and chose electricity instead. One of the books I read there was about the concept of dualism. It's the belief that two opposing forces can exist in harmony. They conflict but also complement each other, like yin and yang. I don't know why I thought about that now, years later in Chad's basement in Dubai. Maybe the best way to describe Luke and myself is in the framework of dualism. He and I grew up worlds apart, despite being just across the street. We have entirely different ways of looking at the world, conflicting ways. But maybe that's why we need each other. We test each other. I just hope we don't break each other. "I know it hurts," Luke said, "Trust me, I've been there. But Minnie, you're stronger than me in so many ways. All I'm saying is that I don't think your happiness should be tied to the superficial acceptance of irrelevant people. They're irrelevant." I was still thinking back to the little girl who spent so much time reading books in the library because she preferred fiction to reality. I'll always prefer fiction, but maybe I need more courage to face reality. When I venture out, I spend too much time worried about what people think of me. I blame myself for not fitting in, but maybe it doesn't matter whether I fit in or not. What's so wrong with standing out anyway? All the world's innovations happened because someone dared to be different. Our world likes convention. I don't need to like the world – I just need to live in it. And hiding from it, is not the way to live. "I see," I said. After our impassioned speeches tonight, it was pathetic that this was all I could conjure up. He really hit a nerve there – calling me out on my insecurities. The world has been a lot harsher to me than it has to him. So I don't have as optimistic an outlook as he does. When you get slapped in the face by life so many times, how much more self-confidence can you conjure? And I get his point, I really do, but I also get mine. He shouldn't have left me alone that night and I'm glad he apologized for it. "I'm not trying to be needy," I said, "And I don't expect you to hold my hand through everything. I think you forget how I'm used to holding my own hand. I've gone through most of life by myself and I've learnt to support myself." I wanted to make that clear because this whole 'I'm needy' look is really missing the point. "You and I are in a relationship which means we support each other," I clarified, "You know my insecurities and I think I know yours. It was our first night out at a club with your friends in a new country, which is miles away from what I'm used to. So of all nights to check in on me from time to time, I'd say that was a good one." "That's true," he said, "I'm sorry." His expression was soft as he gazed at me. There was a raw hurt in his eyes mixed with sadness for hurting me. He looked like he just wanted this argument to end. He stepped forwards and wrapped his strong arms around my body. I felt my hands run over the familiar feel of his upper body and melted into his hug. How I missed this. His strength, his warmth, his comfort. It's painful to argue with someone you care about. By fighting him, it felt like I was hurting myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing the tears back. And I held onto him. I was scared by our distance and by how deep this conversation had gotten. These things needed to be said so we could clean the air between us. Honesty is our integrity. I held him and quietly admitted, "I was scared we were about to break up." "Over an argument like this?" Luke asked softly, tilting his head so he could see mine, "We're too strong for that." I felt my heart soar at that response. Luke had confidence I lacked. He was strong, but I was more attracted to the strength of his will power. He didn't want to let us go. There were many people who doubted his commitment, but moments like these gave me confidence in our future together. Real devotion is not just the willingness to work on our relationship, but the willingness to work on ourselves as individuals. I pretended like what he just said didn't mean much. It meant everything. "You may want to answer your phone," I mumbled into his shirt, changing the subject, "It's been buzzing during our whole conversation." He kept one arm wrapped around me as his other hand slid into his pocket and checked who'd been texting him. We both looked at his phone and read the Austin texts: Austin 9.15pm: Just apologize Austin 9.22pm: Seriously. You're in the wrong and I don't even need to know what it is Austin 9.31pm: Have you still not apologized? Austin 9.36pm: It's been twenty minutes. APOLOGIZE so we can EAT Austin 9.39pm: I know I said I liked oysters but not this much Austin 9.40pm: Actually I hate them Austin 9.40pm: That's it. I'm coming down "When was that last text?" I asked and he checked the time stamp. 30 seconds ago. And just like that, we heard Austin's loud voice, "Love birds! I hate to intrude but we have hungry people upstairs!" ** Dinner was being served in five courses tonight. In some cultures, the number five is a symbol of balance. Earth, water, air, fire and aether. Speaking of the number five, I don't know why there were golden plastic hands as décor on the table. Their fingers clasped onto some shiny gold objects. The dinner table was covered in flowers, primarily reds, oranges and purples. We sat on red chairs and the room was lined with thin, human-sized candles. (picture on my Instagram, Nov-21) Why Chad has a room like this in his house, I will never know. Sir Chadwick Senior was sitting at the head of the table with his friend beside him. The friend had a liking for rings and wore three on his right hand. The first course had been served and it was tiny. My starving stomach protested. I hate to sound ungrateful, but you'd think they could give us more than a tiny spoon of some frothy jello. "What did you say this was?" Cearra asked our host, "Amuse boosh?" "An amuse-bouche," Chad replied, placing his napkin on his lap, "It's French for mouth amuser." I copied him. Whatever Chad was doing, I copied. Thankfully, Bianca and Oma were sitting further away from us – closer to Chad Senior and his friend. On our end of the table, it was Austin, Luke, Chad, Cearra and me. Cearra kept staring between Luke and me, trying to get some response out of me. I didn't know how to respond since I'm an awkward communicator, but I gave her a thumbs up. I was pretty quiet after the emotional rollercoaster I had gone through today. Our heavy conversation had come after a long, emotionally draining and physically exhausting day which had started with me hungover. And now, I was more overtly aware of my responsibility to jive better with this group and work on my self-confidence issues. I felt close to tears. I couldn't help myself. The second course was an option between soup or salad. I chose both, naturally. Austin concurred. "How was scuba diving?" Cearra asked the boys.