On the views of love, from a Chinese blog I subscribe to, translated…
The Confessions of a Man: “Christmases, New Years, Valentine’s Day, as well as anniversaries are all very important. Because you’d deemed it so, that, is why, it’s so.
The phone rang, it was, your friend.
Friend: “How are you spending the holidays with your other half?”
You: “Just going out to dine, nothing special, really, we don’t really celebrate the holidays.”
Friend: “That’s too bad.”
You: “Yeah, I know.”
Friend, “That’s AWFUL! Don’t you guys get one another presents? I feel so sorry for you I’m about to cry now, he’s so unromantic!”
You: “It’s true, I’m so unlucky to be with him!”
Hanging up the phones, you’d turned back, and started, leaning on him once more.
You were young once, and believed that love MUST go all out, in order for it to be called love. And whenever you’d had fights, you’d called on your buddies, and headed out with them, to get drunk, cussing out the job, your boss, as well as all those god DAMN men too. As well as those who couldn’t seem, to find love. People are complicated, love, hard, only booze, is the simplest. You’d met a lot of people, but, after you woke the next morn, you can’t recall a single one. Left with those blood-filled eyes in the mirrors, reminding you of how awful you’d had it, then, you’d started hating yourself for it.
You’d had those weekends that going without clubbing on Saturday nights wouldn’t be called weekends for you, and you must dance and drink, until the shop closes down, felt, that you’re always, short of time, you’d still have, a TON of energies to set loose. You’re unafraid of the digits on the tabs, only feared, that you’d not made your minutes and seconds meaningful enough. But every time you’d stepped out, from the dimly lit basement, into the sun, your eyes turned blind, by the rays of the rising sun, like how a vampire is exposed, underneath the sun. Then, you’re overwhelmed, with that sense of self-pity.
You’d found a hiding place in the night, but one day, you don’t even recognize your own reflection in the mirror.
Surely, you’d received, gifts such as flowers, name brand purses too, almost as the same as the number he’d broken your heart. Ever since, you’d come to the realizations, that the number of zeros is equivalent, to the number of heartbreaks you got from him. You’d also learned, that the expiry dates of a heart that’s true is way longer than the withering roses, and that those name brand purses become outdated, quicker than the love.
Then, you’d met him. He’s not extremely handsome, not rich either, only has a 100cc motorcycle. He’d paled by comparison, to the men you’d dated from before. But, you were, willing to give him a chance. You wanted to treat him with your true heart, instead of a temporary playmate. And so, you’d put up your inability to commit, because it took you a very long time, to finally realize, that you can’t compare one man to the next. Love can’t be compared and measured either. You no longer wondered, if he wasn’t good enough, or, if he was worse than an ex, because love’s got nothing to do with how “good” he is, and more to do with how kindly he treated you.
After a very long time, you’d come to your senses, that it wasn’t you who chose him, instead, it was, him, who pulled you out from the darkness you were in.
He’d still missed Valentine’s Day, and, not remembering whether your anniversary was on the eleventh, or the thirteenth, but knew that you liked dogs more than cats, the oceans, more than the mountains, and wanted to go honeymooning in Norway. Only liked the spicy oils, not the chili, had a poodle named “Boo-Boo”. Then, when he saw Teddy bears, he’d always put them in bags, and give them all to you. Even though he’s really bad at wrapping, but, you’d known, that every time you’d opened something from him, his true heart was in the packages. The gifts can be bought, but not the passions he has for you.
Then, for the very first time, you’d found, that spending the holidays pale by comparison, to him, holding your hands.
Ever since, you’d not feared the morning light, started waking up, in the expectations of the sun, instead of waking up in fear. You no longer wanted to go back. Now, every time you got closer to him, you’d feel that you’re closer, to happiness. And, all the neon on the outside, no longer can compare, to the small screen, sitting, RIGHT there, at home. You knew, that happiness, is in the hand that held yours. You’d started feeling, that time’s running out, instead, of counting down the days, because you’d always had too much to share with him, and, couldn’t get enough of him.
Like how you’d come to understand, that your love needed no shiny crowns, because you two have each other now.
And so, this, is a story, from losing in love, to realizing what love is, from changing one’s beliefs about love, to finally realizing, that what one has, IS the real kind of love, and this woman was lucky enough, to have found this depth of love from a good man.