Between Desire and Distance

I would like to take a moment to revisit the past, specifically the time when I met Alex, in order to provide more clarity on what transpired and on the relationship we shared.

I met Alex in Prague during the summer of 2023, when he came to the city for shootings. At the time, I was still working in the adult industry, but I wasn’t involved in any of his projects. Our introduction came through a mutual acquaintance, who invited me and another girl to simply hang out, chat, and keep them company. There were six of us in total, casually talking and drinking, nothing more.

As the night wore on, everyone began to leave, and I was about to head home when Alex gave me the impression that he wanted me to stay. Eventually, it ended up being just the two of us, and the night culminated in sex. I know what you're probably thinking: “She was drunk, that’s why she slept with him on the first day.” But no, I wasn’t drunk. I only had one glass of wine. The truth is, I wanted to, and something about him attracted me. Later, I tried to figure out what exactly it was. The answer was simple – we tend to seek in a partner what we lack in ourselves. He lived in Los Angeles, a city I had always dreamed of living in, and he had succeeded in the very industry I had once aspired to be part of.

After our night together, I went home immediately, as my dog was waiting for me and needed to be fed and walked in the morning. That very morning, when I woke up, I saw a message from him, something I honestly didn’t expect. He wanted me to come back, to spend more time with him. And that’s how it all began.

For the entire week leading up to his departure, we saw each other every day. And on the night he was leaving, I cried. I cried for several days after that. He was the first man in a long time who made me feel something, and it was incredibly painful to realize that we lived on different continents, and a relationship between us wasn’t possible. At that time, I was planning to go to the United States, hoping for a visa, though I had no idea when it would happen – for Russians, it was practically impossible.

We kept in touch, though I tried not to message him too often. He always responded late, sometimes only the next day, and once, it took him a whole week to reply. I know from my own experience that you can read a message, get distracted, and forget to reply, only remembering after hours or even days. But there’s one big “but.” If someone is important to you, you won’t forget, and you’ll respond, even if it’s later, but at least the same day. So, I kept my messages short because I felt that he didn’t share the same level of feelings as I did. Yes, he liked me, but to him, it was just a fleeting fling. I didn’t think he believed I would come to the US anytime soon, and I didn’t believe it myself either.

When he left, I went through emotional turmoil, wanting to drop everything and fly to the US immediately. Moving to the US had already been my goal, but now, it seemed to take on a deeper meaning. Still, I pulled myself together and carried on with my life, trying to forget about him. The move was too important for me to rush into it out of desperation – I had to think it through carefully.

When I had calmed down and decided to leave it all behind, Alex came back to Europe. This happened in September. He was in Amsterdam, met a mutual acquaintance, and then drove with him to Prague. From Prague, he planned to head to Budapest for another shoot. This same acquaintance suggested that Alex take me with him.

When Alex called with the offer, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I was so nervous, my hands were shaking. I quickly packed, arranged for someone to look after my dog, and about an hour later, I was sitting at the restaurant where they were dining together: Alex and our mutual acquaintance, with his girlfriend.

In the restaurant, Alex didn’t show much emotion, though we weren’t alone. But when we got into the car, he kissed me and told me he missed me. That gave me hope that maybe something could come of this, that he might wait for me, that we might be able to be together once I made it to the US.

During our time in Budapest, we were together all the time. I went with him to every shoot. The trip was filled with shootings, restaurants, alcohol, and drugs. One night, we had a conversation about our so-called “non-relationship.” Nothing really changed, but at least I shared my feelings. I wanted him to know that I felt he was more to me than just a fling.

A few days later, we returned to Prague. We spent a couple more days together, and I only left for the shoots and to visit my dog twice a day. We relaxed together, enjoyed restaurants, bars, alcohol, and drugs. I thought he didn’t party often, and I believed the trip was simply a mix of work and vacation for him. How wrong I was.

This time, when he left, I handled it better. He knew how I felt, and I knew he really liked me.