Post Date December, 03 2023
I am waiting for my girlfriend who shared a room with me and dated me for over a year. Her name is Lin. I know Lin will never come back because I stabbed her self-esteem with persistence and she left me.
Lin is a particularly open girl who dares to love and hate, and also has the inherent suspicion and sadness of women. She occasionally has a small temper, but all of these make me infatuated.
I met Lin on my way to work. During a period of time, I worked late and she happened to be off work. Her bright eyes looked at the crowd around her with a bit of recklessness, and I knew I had a crush on this girl.
One day at work, I pretended to be drunk and boldly asked Lin for her phone number. Lin arrogantly said why, and I said that because of your gentleness, Lin smiled on the street. I have had more contact, and Lin no longer repels me. Occasionally, I invite her to the small house I rented. Lin likes clean boys, and my room is also very tidy, so Lin began to like me.
What does love mean for two young people who have never been involved in love? Are you holding hands on the street and eating snacks at the stall when you're hungry? Or go shopping in the downtown area to buy some cheap clothes and secretly enjoy it? Or is it the ambiguous little deer collision when looking at each other?
Perhaps in this materialistic era, love is a romance piled up with money. Not understanding Lin is like not understanding myself, just knowing clearly that being with Lin is very happy.
Lin and I both came to work in this bustling city after graduating from college. As our emotions grew stronger, we shared a room or two and started the so-called cohabitation, but slept in separate rooms. We will earn to cook and talk to each other about various interesting things that happened at work, but my working hours are reversed, and we spend very little time together.
We are happily managing pure love like this, but I have never mentioned to my colleagues that I have a girlfriend because Lin and I don't even have a pitiful hug apart from just holding hands.
I remember a gathering at work where a group of young people agreed to bring their significant other with them, either for the sake of men's dignity or to give love a place. After obtaining Lin's consent, Lin appeared at our gathering. I shyly introduced Lin as my girlfriend to the big family and watched the scene of couples hugging each other. I also had the urge to embrace Lin, but my body became so stiff in front of my thoughts.
On the way home, I can see that Lin is very unhappy. Women always hope her boyfriend can be more ambiguous, but I still defend my childhood with indifference. I know that before getting married, I won't touch any woman casually, even if I really love her.
Lin hid in the bedroom crying, and for the woman's tears, I looked clumsy. I could only smoke desperately to conceal my unease.
Lin, who had gained the courage from nowhere, rushed into my bedroom and hugged me tightly, almost begging me to give it up for the first time. I nervously got rid of Lin's hands, and Lin seemed to have found the answer she wanted in my refusal. Lin moved out of our shared cottage overnight. Lin's departure made me unable to suppress the sadness in my heart.
Love is like a taut bow string that can easily break with just a little more force. I think the same goes for the emotions between Lin and me. I really want to keep Lin like a gentleman, but I don't have any extra sweet words. Watching Lin's trembling figure gradually blur in the night sky of the city, the pain touches my proud nerves.
I admit that I am the most traditional one among contemporary young people. I don't even know whether it is right or wrong to refuse premarital sex, but my refusal made Lin expel me from her emotional world. I didn't pretend to be pure, but I stuck to my bottom line at the moment of impulse.
All the beauty of love is destroyed in an instant, and the wandering days will continue. I no longer need to be passionate about entering the drama.
Lin and I are still working hard in the same city. Occasionally, when we meet on the road, I only dare to peep, and what I read from her eyes is the contempt behind indifference.
In the dead of night, I wander deeply between alcohol and smoke. Only I know that what I taste is wine, but what I drink is lovesickness; I lit a cigarette, but smoked in pain.
(Intern Editor: Cai Junyi)
