Heartbreaking love stories: Friendship and love
I am Qingxue, and I’m here to share with you the silhouettes of my emotions. It’s like this: when I’m alone and quiet, I tend to overthink, and memories shamelessly rush back to haunt me. I’m not as indifferent, optimistic, or positive as I appear on the surface. Sometimes, I don’t even know how to be alone, how to face a life where I’m on my own, in my own space. Call me hypocritical or pretentious if you will, but I simply cannot face an empty space alone. I’m not that brave or strong. When I’m alone, I’m afraid. I reminisce, I miss those old times, those feelings that I claim to have let go of but can never truly forget.
GQ – I guess this guy must be the biggest mistake I made during my university years. I mistook an overly close friendship for love, leading to the complete loss of that friendship. Now, I don’t even dare to say a caring word to him. In truth, this misunderstanding wasn’t entirely my own doing. If the other party hadn’t participated in this farce, no matter how hard I tried, it would’ve been in vain. My misguided feelings were still driven by the emotions of a stubbornly romantic Pisces girl. I’m sensitive, I’m passionate, and honestly, I didn’t have a good impression of him at first. Just as he said himself, he felt that I was cold and aloof, indifferent to him.
But what girl could resist such well-known care and attention? He would wait for me downstairs at my dorm to comfort me when I was crying after an argument at an event. He would rush from his dorm to the field to watch a meteor shower with me in the freezing cold, giving me his coat when I felt chilly. He would secretly run to my side while talking to me on the phone and then tell me that he was within a meter of me. He would stop whatever he was doing when he heard I had sprained my ankle, carry me from the Humanities Building to the library, and even perform an impromptu skit in front of the dean and instructor. He would gently hold me from behind when I was drunk. He would kneel down to tie my shoelaces in front of everyone during a long run. He would chat with me for two hours on the phone while I was studying late at night, telling me about his first love and asking if I would say yes if he pursued me. He would sit on the podium in front of my desk during self-study and chat with me. He would run from his dorm to the study room just to see me, seriously saying he missed me, even enduring my playful punches. He would carefully listen to my suggestions and immediately put them into action. He would give me food during group meals. He would drink for me when our friends pressured me to drink and tell me to take care of myself.
Now that I think about it, maybe I misunderstood him back then. This was a guy who played an ambiguous game with me for a whole year, and during that year, I fell for him. I started to care, to love, only for him to give me a hard slap with the excuse that he wasn’t good enough for me, shattering all my self-confidence and my misguided feelings. I can’t describe how I felt at that moment. I realized that all these beautiful memories were just my own perceptions.
One drunken night, one hazy downfall, stubborn pride supporting my most vulnerable self, I lied to myself and everyone else, saying I was perfectly fine. The only reason I could convince myself was that I liked the feeling he gave me. It was just a feeling, after all—a feeling that anyone could’ve stirred in me. But deep down, I knew the pain, the bitterness of being defeated by reality. I drank, I smoked, I arrogantly vented all the emotions buried by reality. But who could understand that even my sadness was portrayed so gracefully, yet deep inside, I was in excruciating pain, thoroughly disappointed. But I still wouldn’t bow my head—let’s just be strangers.
From now on, we owe each other nothing, and we won’t disturb each other. The so-called self-esteem in my heart supports me as I joke around with everyone, avoiding the person and feelings I once misunderstood. I forcibly pulled him out of my heart, only to find that roots had already grown, and the wound was bloody and raw. I forced myself to stop caring, to forget that past. I acted as if I didn’t care, so convincingly that even I sometimes managed to fool myself. Now, looking back on that time, I deeply regret ruining what could have been a great friendship. But now, none of it matters anymore. As long as we can still meet and joke around, greet each other casually, that’s enough.
As for anything else, let it be. I tend to say “let it be” when I can’t resolve a problem or feel helpless about it. It’s not that I’m deliberately avoiding it; I just don’t want to remember. Forcing myself to reopen old wounds and examine the damage—that’s self-destruction, and I’ve always understood that. Let’s just leave it at that. Now that you’ve found real love, saying “blessings” might sound too fake, but I still hope you’ll treat that good girl sincerely.
ZQ—this was a boy I liked in the first year of middle school. To be honest, I liked him a lot back then, and even now, I sometimes think of him in my idle moments. Back then, he was thin but not frail, with a mischievous air about him. Now, he’s 183 cm tall, still slim, and his smile is just as boyish. This was the only guy I’ve ever admitted to dating, but I know that at 14, neither of us could’ve understood what love truly was, let alone how to love. At that time, we were deskmates for a while. He cheekily called me “boss,” following my lead with a carefree, mischievous attitude. I think I liked him back then. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have passed him notes asking if he’d miss me after I transferred schools.
Later, he naturally told me he liked me. I probably knew better than anyone that he was a flirtatious guy, but I just didn’t want to admit it or reject him. In the end, not knowing what love was, I became his girlfriend. Looking back now, I realize I was wrong back then. I would run away when he tried to hug or kiss me. If it were now, I would’ve accepted it. After all, in a relationship that’s doomed to end, leaving some evidence of love would’ve been wonderful—at least a first kiss, a first hug—those would’ve been beautiful memories. But all I left behind was emptiness. Recently, we reconnected and chatted like old friends, talking about our lives. One day, he suddenly asked me if I liked him or just cared about him. I found myself saying, “I like you and I care about you.” This evasive answer—I knew that everything he said that day was a subtle way of telling me that there would be nothing more than friendship between us, which was something I had already understood long ago.
But after that day, I was still very sad. I admit that I still have feelings for the person he is now. I don’t understand how my perfectly concealed emotions were so easily seen through. It’s like performing a self-directed, self-produced magic show that I thought was brilliant, only to realize the audience had seen through all my tricks from the start—it was ridiculous and awkward. I was really upset at the time. I admit that I had liked and cared for such a boy, but for us, time has taken away those titles, leaving the purest memories behind. Being friends is the most real choice and destination for us. He tells me about his complicated feelings and unspoken vulnerabilities, and I complain about my current frustrations and daily trivialities. To be able to be friends with someone you once dated is already rare, so let’s not destroy this quiet beauty. I know that compared to passionate, entangled relationships, I prefer honesty and longevity. So when he said he’d call me his “big wife,” I chose to go along with it. He said it was the only way to show how close we are, and that my future husband would be jealous of him.
He is still as childlike as ever, and I continue to choose to be accommodating, just like before. That day, he said he knew I was in a bad mood and that it bothered him. He told me to live well. Such a friend is worth cherishing, but in the end, who would have thought we’d come full circle and end up just friends? Reality is like this—it surprises you in the most dramatic way when you least expect it, forcing you to let go of all fantasies and hopes, making you face the reality without giving you any chance to resist. The love I didn’t cherish back then, I will now nurture in the name of friendship, giving us both the most beautiful ending and the brightest new beginning.
Qing, you never really understood your true feelings, did you? You lack a sense of security, yet you long for someone to rely on. You’re full of emotions but always seem to act so indifferent. Deep down, you’re fragile and long to be loved, but you always present yourself as carefree and flamboyant. You never want to show your true self easily. You don’t want anyone to see your sadness, your sorrow, and your pain. You don’t want anyone to easily see your lack of confidence and hidden vulnerabilities. You act strong and indifferent, as if nothing around you
matters. But those repressed emotions always sneak out in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, disturbing the calm that you’ve forced yourself to maintain. But silly girl, sadness is already hard enough to bear. Forcing yourself to hide it will only make it harder. Live well. Don’t always turn to smoking, drinking, or other forms of self-destruction to express your sorrow. You’re a girl; you have the right to cry when you’re sad. Don’t always suppress your inner anxiety and restlessness. But you must love yourself; you must cherish yourself. Quit all those harmful habits. Don’t be stubborn, don’t be too serious. Truly become strong, proud, and confident. Good girl, someone will come along to love you dearly!
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
