Emotional breakup narrative
One day last month, my mother called me, “Qin Bo came to see me. He very politely asked for your current phone number, saying he wanted to contact you. I told him I couldn’t remember your number, and he asked me to think about it and call him back tomorrow.
Daughter, should I give him your phone number? You both used to be classmates, and now you’re both married. He was so polite; wouldn’t it be a bit stingy not to give it to him?” I was silent for a moment, then said, “What’s the harm in not giving it? What’s the benefit in giving it? We’re all living our lives well enough; let’s not stir up trouble. Stingy or not, just don’t give it to him!”
Upon hearing my decision, my previously hesitant mother immediately became resolute, “Alright, I won’t give it to him. I’ll just say I’m old, my memory’s not good, and I can’t remember. I’ll say you always call home, and I don’t have your number…”
Qin Bo was my boyfriend during university. We started dating in our freshman year and spent four years together. His hometown was in Zhenjiang, Jiangsu, and mine was in Tianjin. We both attended a university in Xi’an. When we graduated, his father used his connections to get him a government job back home.
His hometown was just a county-level city, where I had no job opportunities, and his salary alone couldn’t support a family. His parents wanted him to marry a local girl with a stable government job and advised him to stop pursuing a long-distance relationship. After much consideration, Qin Bo felt it was more realistic for us to break up.
So, after a tearful farewell, we embarked on the path of “breaking up upon graduation.” He returned to his hometown to work, and I went to Beijing to find a job.
At the beginning of this month, Qin Bo surprisingly called my cell phone. He was in Beijing. It turned out he had tracked down my number through classmates working in Beijing and then called me to invite me to meet and have dinner.
After all, we had shared four years of youthful memories, and we had truly loved each other during that pure first love. Despite my efforts to maintain a calm tone during the call, I couldn’t control my tears; they still flowed.
I lied, saying I had a meeting soon and would call him back in two hours. He said, “Okay, I’ll wait for your call.”
I took the elevator up to the seventeenth floor, six floors above our office, then went to the restroom. I washed my face under the faucet and finally managed to stop crying.
Leaving the restroom, I leaned against the staircase in the fire exit, recalling our days riding the 600 bus, listening to the classic English song “Yesterday Once More.” I remembered our weekend walks on East Street and our visits to see the largest light and music fountain in Asia at the Great Wild Goose Pagoda Square. Tears flowed again…
We had once loved each other. Now, meeting again, what was there to say? Reliving the past? What was the point? If emotions got out of control, something inappropriate might happen. Many old flames, when reunited, are like moths to a flame, burning with passion. But after the passion burns out, what’s left? Only ashes.
I just wanted to live a peaceful life and hold onto the happiness I had. I wouldn’t let my happiness turn to ashes. Since time can’t be turned back and we can never return to the past, it’s better never to meet again!
Having made up my mind, I called him. On the phone, he excitedly asked, “The meeting’s over? When are you coming?” I calmly replied, “I’m not coming. We’ll never see each other again.” “Why? Do you hate me that much?” “It’s not about hating you. It’s just that we both have families now. It’s best for everyone to be mindful of themselves. Meeting has no meaning.”
Hearing this, he angrily said, “It’s not as serious as you make it sound. We’re just having a meal together.” “Sorry, I don’t want that meal because I don’t know what to talk about besides reminiscing. But reminiscing is meaningless now. Think of me as stingy. Just know my stinginess is for your good and mine.”
After saying that, I hung up. I still had work to finish and needed to hurry. I decided not to cook dinner tonight but to go to a nearby restaurant with my husband and order his favorite dish, spicy fish. This weekend, I planned to go shopping with him and buy him a new pair of shoes; the ones he was wearing were getting old. Thinking about these things, I walked towards the elevator to return to the office and continue working diligently…
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
