University love story
One day last month, my mother called me: “Qin Bo contacted me. He was very polite and asked for your current phone number because he wanted to get in touch with you. I told him I couldn’t remember your number. He asked me to think about it and call him back tomorrow.
Sweetie, should I give him your phone number? You two were old classmates and are both married now. He spoke so politely; wouldn’t it be a bit petty not to give it to him?” I was silent for a moment and then said, “What’s the harm in not giving it? What’s the benefit of giving it? Everyone’s life is going well; let’s not stir up trouble. Petty or not, don’t give it to him.”
Hearing my decision, my mother, who had been hesitant, became resolute: “Alright, I won’t give it to him. I’ll just say I’m getting old and my memory isn’t good, and I can’t remember it. After all, you always call home, and I haven’t called you…”
Qin Bo was my boyfriend during university. We started dating in our freshman year and were together for four years. His hometown is in Zhenjiang, Jiangsu, while mine is in Tianjin. We studied at a university in Xi’an. Upon graduation, his father pulled some strings to get him a government job in his hometown.
But there was no way for me to find a job in that county-level city, and his salary alone couldn’t support a family. His parents wanted him to marry a local girl who also had a government job and advised him not to complicate things. After much consideration, Qin Bo decided that breaking up was the most realistic choice for us.
So, after a tearful goodbye, we parted ways—another couple who broke up upon graduation. He went back to his hometown to work, and I went to Beijing to find a job.
Earlier this month, Qin Bo unexpectedly called my cell phone; he was in Beijing. He had managed to get my number through mutual friends working in Beijing and called to invite me to meet for dinner.
Having shared four years of youthful memories and our first love, despite my efforts to stay calm and keep my tone steady during the call, I couldn’t control my tears. They flowed down uncontrollably.
I lied, saying I was about to attend a meeting and would call him back in two hours. He replied, “Okay, I’ll wait for your call.”
I took the elevator up six floors to the seventeenth floor, went to the restroom, and washed my face at the sink, taking a long time to wash away my tears.
After leaving the restroom, I leaned against the stairwell in the fire escape, recalling the times we took the 600 bus together, listening to the classic English song “Yesterday Once More” on the bus, reminiscing about our weekend walks down East Street, and our visits to see the largest musical fountain in Asia at the Big Wild Goose Pagoda square. My tears started flowing again.
We had once been in love, but what could we say to each other now if we met again? Recreate “yesterday once more” through our memories? What’s the point of that? If emotions got out of control, things that shouldn’t happen might happen.
Many old lovers, when they meet again, are like moths drawn to a flame, igniting old passions. But after the passion burns, what’s left? Only ashes.
I just want to live a peaceful life and hold onto my current happiness. I won’t let my happiness turn to ashes. Since time can’t go backward and we can’t return to the past, it’s better never to meet again.
With my mind made up, I called him back. He was pleasantly surprised and asked, “The meeting’s over? When are you coming?” I calmly replied, “I won’t be coming. We won’t meet ever again.” “Why? Do you hate me that much?” “It’s not about hating you. We both have families now; it’s best to look out for ourselves. Meeting has no meaning.”
Hearing this, he angrily retorted, “It’s not that serious. We’re just having a meal together.” “Sorry, I don’t want to have that meal because, honestly, besides reminiscing about the past, I don’t know what else we would talk about. But reminiscing has no meaning. Consider me petty, but remember, my pettiness is for your good and mine.”
After saying that, I hung up. I still had work to finish, so I had to focus. I decided not to cook dinner at home tonight and instead go out to a nearby restaurant with my husband and order his favorite dish, Sichuan boiled fish.
This weekend, I planned to go shopping with my husband to buy him a new pair of shoes; his current pair was getting worn out. With these thoughts, I walked towards the elevator, ready to return to the office and continue working diligently.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
