I knew him four years ago, namely, 2001. At that time we were not near to each other, he staying in Beijing, whereas I staying in Suzhou. I hardly noticed him at the beginning whenever he said hello to me when we met online, for at that time I was not open to a new relationship yet.
But as time went on, he began to impress me with his sincere and caring personality, which shown by his remembrance of his childhood. He told me how he had grown up in the mountainous city and how happy the time then had been. Had he then been fourteen or sixteen? He could not remember. But he did recall that he climbed up the hills behind his house, and lingered around the pine trees till sunset
, till his mother called him home.
Sometimes I would also tell him how deeply the feeling I had for my childhood. So with literature. Yes, as in that period I was fluctuated by the everyday chaos
and a just gone-by relationship, I was almost obsessed with the great writings.
By shunning myself into the world of stories, I forgot the hustle of the outside world and the bitterness following by the end-already relationship.
Yet unlike me, he did not read much. He would rather than choose to walk outside
for a while or just be there by doing nothing. How different we were. So I talked to him with ease, never thought that we would be together years after. Nor did he, I guess. For at that time we were so far away to each other. The distance
was an inescapable factor, shunning us from any feeling too personal.
In 2002, however, after graduation he chose to come to Shanghai for work. His decision to come here drew near the distance between us. He asked me for a meeting
, very soon after he settled in Shanghai.So did it happen. Life was an ironic play, I thought. One you are dying to see is never there, always out of reach; whereas someone, with or without your expectation, comes instead.
We met finally, in a summe dusk, which, now I know, would never fade away in my
memory. He came by my side in the sunset, and had never left me ever since.
When I was beaten down by life, it’s him who stood by my side and let me cry on his shoulders. When I first got my scholarship, though not much, he was the first person who was there cheering and telling me I was wonderful. Even when I was bored, he was always by me, listening to my nagging with great patience.
What else would I expect? I used to think my Mr. Right should be the same as me,
having a great affection for literature, yet be wiser and less unreasonable than I was. On the surface, he was nothing of the kind. But his great care of me and the calmness in his personality compare no little less than all the attributes
I thought my Mr. Right should have. Most importantly, he made me fill stable and secure, which I had never felt except at home.
Sometimes I asked him if he could remember the time when we first met, where hiseyes would sparkle with mischief, by saying he cannot remember anything. But then he would always draw me into his arms and tell me how he could not remember.
Yes, how we could not remember? The past, gone with time as it was, remains vivid in our mind, for it’s it that bonded us together.
I don’t know if we can work our relationship out in the years to come. But whoever else could know his or hers before he or she witnesses it in person. Uncertainty comes with relationship as it does with being alive. If we all try out bestto strive for it, even by some chance it doesn’t work out as it is wished to be
, I know I won't have regrets. Being with him like now, I am already content.
