“I tink you butterfly,” said Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life. “Now, not.”

A familiar refrain from Noom, it wasn’t the first time he’d alluded to my previous life when visiting the Kingdom compared to my current practice, which he views as more about me visiting him than anything else. Revisiting a previously covered subject is unusual for Noom. He’s not a real chatter box to begin with. Once a subject has been dealt with, it’s usually the last time it gets discussed. This one, however, comes up frequently. At least once every trip.

Claiming that the simple act of meeting him was enough to change my habits could come across as arrogant. But that’s not how he means it. It could also be a simple statement of fact. Though 99% accurate, restating facts is not something either of us tends to do. Plus he knows that I still do, on occasion, slip out for a bit of novelty. When he comes out with one of his ‘Was A Butterfly But Not Anymore’ statements, it’s never a part of a conversation we’re already having. Nor is it meant as a conversation starter. Words hold an importance to Noom and I think that mantra is more about adding substance to what he hopes is not just fantasy. It’s more about reassuring him of his place in my life. Or at least in my habits. And he trusts me enough to know I won’t disagree with his statement.

Fantasy vs. reality is not all that unusual in any relationship. It’s doubly true when you are talking about a farang/bar boy relationship where there is always a good deal of wishful thinking involved on both sides of the table. The farang often thinks he has found true love. That his special relationship with a guy – who makes his living fulfilling the fantasies of visitors – is different than the rest. That regardless of how many other farang his guy counts among his regulars, their relationship transcends the rest. And forget about the money paid to the bar and to the bar boy, their relationship is really all about love.

The bar boy promotes that fantasy. From experience, bar boys know that’s the hook that ensures a customer will keep coming back. And possibly can even be hit up for some cash in between visits. But then the bar boy has his own set of fantasies too. Even though, through experience again, he knows better, the bar boy wants to believe that his farang really does love him. That it’s all about their friendship and their feelings for each other. That the sex, which in most cases the bar boy would just as soon as do without, plays a tiny role in their relationship and is not the overarching interest of the farang. The farang may be his Prince Charming, but an orgasm is not the happy ending the bar boy plans for his version of their fairy tale.

Perhaps calling it a fantasy is a bit harsh. Because it really is about needs, with a little bit of desire thrown into the pot. The farang, usually older by a few decades, needs to feel loved, appreciated, and wanted. That those needs are being filled by a hot stud quite a but younger than him makes it just that much more special. The bar boy also needs to feel loved, appreciated, and desired. And to be taken care of. Which usually means financially. He may prefer a partner closer to his own age, but knows it is the elder farangs who are more capable of providing the financial backing that is such an integral part of the relationship. At least to the bar boy. And to his fantasy.

I’d like to tell you it is different with Noom and me. But that would be a fantasy too. And we are both too much of realists to fall for that. But as far as dipping toes into the water . . . well, yeah. We still both look to the other guy to fulfill our needs and since we’ve both done a pretty good job with that duty so far, the lure of the fantasy remains. So Noom tells me I’m no longer a butterfly. And ignores the obvious exceptions to that belief. And I tell myself that he really does love me, above and beyond any other farang he knows. And ignore what that love costs. That’s the nice thing about fantasies. Belief transcends fact. Faith and fantasy are more enjoyable options.

I’m sure Noom would like to believe that our relationship would not change if he decided to quit having sex with me. Just like I’d like to believe we’d continue as we are if I stopped giving him money. It’s a nice thought for both of us. And yet neither of us would dare to put that theory to test. Instead we convince ourselves it’s true, and continue as we always have. It works. And still allows us both to dream. While living with reality.

That there is an ‘us’ is not a fantasy. Neither is that we fulfill each others needs. Love, depending on how you define that word, may exist; fondness, concern, care may be a better descriptions than love, because those are all there on both of our parts. But lub sounds better. Even if it is more fanciful of a word.

When we are together and my phone rings, Noom usually grabs it and answers. If it is Nut, a bar boy from Tawan whom Noom has met, and knows that our friendship predates his and mine, he’ll pass the phone over fairly quickly with the slightly disappointed announcement of, “Nut.”

Once, he answered, carried on a brief conversation in Thai, then hung up and passed the phone back to me. I laughed. “Who was that?”

“Not important.”

I wouldn’t put up with that crap from anyone back home. But when I’m in Thailand, I’m in the middle of a fairy tale. And besides, in the grand scheme of things, he was right. I was with him. So whoever was calling really wasn’t important.

I’ve met several of Noom’s family members. I’ve become quite chummy with his gay brother, who knows how Noom makes his living. And have become friendly enough with one of his older brothers and sister-in-law, to whom Noom has explained our relationship as him being my body guard. That too, of course, is a fantasy and I don’t think a very believable one though it allows Noom to save face. So that story will never be questioned. That I count enough in his world to be introduced to family members, especially in light of the lie, means a great deal to me. And adds substance to the fantasy of our relationship.

When I show up in town its not unusual for Noom to have a flash drive with photos he’s taken from a recent visit back home. The first time he loaded them on my computer to show me, I thought it was a nice gesture, that he cared enough to share. Turned out it wasn’t just showing but that those were pix for me to have. Acknowledging that I’d have an interest in his family beyond him and the time we spend together said a lot about our relationship.

The first time he showed me some photos they were on his camera, pix of a visit to Bangkok by part of the clan at Xmas taken in front of the trees and lights at Central World. Noom explained the woman in the photos was his bruddah’s wife, the kids his bruddah’s daughters. A year later after volunteering the truth that he had a wife (divorced) and two kids, he changed the previous fantasy of ‘bruddah’s’ to his own. But I never did get a picture of the ex.

Trust plays an important part in any relationship. Even one that is part of a fairy tale. Trusting in each other has been a slow journey for us. It has crept along, moving forward by inches as each of us has proved that we could be trusted without any danger of being hurt. I think that’s part of where those who claim bar boys are just after your money miss the point. I think they are unable to empathize and fail to acknowledge it really is a two way street. They see it as being nothing more than a walking ATM without considering how many times the bar boy they are putting down has been lied to and used by a farang. I’d bet that on the overall scoreboard, when it comes to being untrustworthy, visitors score the higher number.

The first few times Noom made some concession to reality, an act that fell more heavily on the relationship side than the fantasy side, I took it as a given, as part of our growing relationship. But then I started noticing it really was more a tit for tat computation. Those instances always closely followed me having made good on some promise I’d made, or me having made a gesture outside of what, as a bar boy dealing with a farang, he’d come to expect.

I don’t remember what the event was but once he had paperwork to prove some expenditure I’d contributed to and when I told him I wasn’t interested in seeing it, he became incensed. He thought I was calling him on it, that I thought the papers were fake. I told him I trusted him and didn’t need any proof; his word was enough. Once he calmed down and listened to me, he realized what I was saying. He was a bit shocked, that wasn’t the norm in his experience. That a farang would trust him was beyond his expectations. But the fact is that I do trust him.

The fantasy world farang / bar boy relationships exist in, however, still has its much believed downside regardless of what Noom and I share. I still hear about bad bar boys far too often to not allow that spectre to occasionally peek its head into our relationship. Undoubtedly he hears just as often from his bar mates how farangs are not to be trusted, that all they are after is sex, how they’ll lie and mistreat the boys. I’ve no doubt those negative comments also play a role in our relationship.

Both sides frequently sound the warning; so as much as we’ve come to trust each other, we are both still a bit wary. It’s most notable when I first arrive on a trip. But then begins dissipating as we spend more time together. By the time I’m ready to catch a plane home, we’re back to where we were, secure in our faith, able to trust, and both ready to believe that maybe this time the fairy tale will come true.

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