Middle school love story
Before I graduated, I once took on a job, engaging in a conversation with a TV host from Hong Kong and then organizing it into a book. To say “conversation” is actually putting it nicely; I was just a prompt for his words. At that time, the host was at the peak of his career. The impression he gave on television was one of coldness, wit, and sharpness. But the childhood story he shared with me has stayed with me ever since.
“When I was in middle school, I fell in love with a girl. She was much older than me. I was still just a child, while she was clearly already working. She wore a military uniform without any insignia, so I thought maybe she had something to do with the military. I couldn’t be certain if she was beautiful, but she made my heart race.
She lived near my house, and we often took the same bus in the morning. I didn’t need my parents to urge me to get ready for school because I would always arrive early at the bus stop, just to wait for her. I wanted to get on the bus with her, stand as close to her as possible, and spend an hour in her presence. Sometimes, I would be late for school just to wait for her. If she didn’t show up, I would wait for the next bus, and if she still didn’t come, I’d wait for yet another one.
When I got on the bus, I had to control myself not to look at her, but every cell in my body was attuned to her movements and gestures. Whenever she coughed or seemed to glance in my direction, it felt like a bolt of lightning striking me. At the time, she often wore a military overcoat, and I desperately wanted to slip my hand into the pocket of her coat. It was a poor little wish of mine.
One day, I actually did it. I was lucky enough to be squeezed next to her, and I managed to slip half of my hand into her pocket. The coat was thick, so she didn’t notice at all. I can still remember the sudden warmth that enveloped me, like being surrounded by water.
Looking back now, I realize I was doing something dangerous. If someone had noticed, I would have been seen as a shameful thief. But at the time, I would have done it even if it meant being thrown into a pot of boiling oil.
Later, she started taking the bus with a young, handsome man, who I assumed was her boyfriend. After another six months, I noticed her belly was gradually growing bigger. I calculated the time and during that period, I read every book I could find on how to take care of pregnant women. Soon after, she disappeared, probably going home for maternity leave.
For over a year after that, I still arrived at the bus stop early and waited until the last minute before getting on the bus. I wanted to see her, to wait for her, and besides that, I did nothing else. In my own way, I had accompanied her, watching her go from being single to married, and then to pregnant. But after that, I never saw her again.”
When he spoke of all this, there was none of the flamboyance that he usually displayed on TV.
Secret admirers possess a wealth of emotions that can never be brought to light or flaunted. They are neither calculative, greedy, nor demanding, and they make no sound. In the darkness, they brew a pot of richly fragrant love. Unrequited love is the only kind of love that can be immortalized, as Stefan Zweig once said, “It is like a delayed but sudden death.”
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
