Heartbroken man’s love story
Starting one’s first romance at the age of 27 is quite rare. He Dong was one such exception. At that time, he had just secured a Beijing residence permit and was working as a temporary staff member in the archive room of a research institute at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.
Every day, he hunched over, copying data cards for eight continuous hours, hoping that his diligent work would soon earn him a permanent position.
In his monotonous life, even a glimmer of light was delightful. Especially when that unexpected visitor, a girl, appeared, as radiant as the sun itself. She had long black hair, a soft voice, and stood gracefully leaning against the doorframe, asking him to go to the office to take a call. It was love at first sight, and he carefully investigated her: she was the reading room administrator, born into a family of scholars, poised and dignified.
To him, who had “always lived at the bottom of society,” she was like an exquisite, cold porcelain doll. Even her casual habit of tearing paper fascinated him. From then on, he spent his time in the reading room every day, sitting opposite her, pretending to read a magazine while secretly glancing at her. Sometimes, they would chat about literature and writers.
One day, after work, only the two of them were left. As the girl went to close the windows, He Dong, looking at her back, blurted out, “I love you!” His legs trembled, and his heart pounded after those words. Compared to his impulsive nervousness, the girl remained calm, turned to him with a smile, neither agreeing nor refusing. They walked in silence, locked the door, and went downstairs.
He was elated, while she remained composed. In his excitement, he fell silent again, but she stayed as free as ever. He plunged into Werther-like distress, always lamenting to himself: no degree, no formal job, not handsome or tall, possessing nothing, useless!
Yet, if she accepted his love, he would be the happiest and richest man in the world! So, he tried to force her to respond with his pained eyes and deep, unspoken feelings. She became uneasy, sometimes saying a few irrelevant words, or burying herself in a book, ignoring him completely.
He grew more agitated, even adding gestures to express his anxiety. She glanced at him and said coldly, “Can’t you be more elegant and cultured?” He had to restrain himself, hiding his emotions and pretending to be composed around her. His suppressed passion transformed into fluid, eloquent love letters during his sleepless nights.
From the quiet nights to the bustling mornings, he sealed each letter in an envelope, adorned with the prettiest stamps, and delivered it to the adjacent office. But such fiery passion couldn’t ignite her.
One day after work, she finally agreed to meet him outside the office. Leaning against a utility pole, she said calmly, “If you insist, I can give you a 10% positive response. But those letters are indeed well written.”
For that 90%, he poured his heart and soul into writing love letters, turning night into day, losing his sanity. She seemed touched, but just barely. One night, she said nonchalantly, “If you feel too miserable, just kiss me.” Her words struck him like lightning in a clear sky. He kissed her fervently, not remembering if he shed tears.
Soon after, she handed him a letter with her slender, fair hand and left. He hesitated to open it but couldn’t resist. Inside, written neatly and simply, were the words: “Feelings cannot be forced. I withdraw my 10% affirmation.” The moon in his heart shattered.
He nearly went mad, writing a hasty suicide note to threaten her, nearly making her cry. He knew deep down she was never meant for him. They eventually parted ways.
That night, he sat alone by the lake at Yuyuantan Park, contemplating ending his life. As dawn broke, his heart gradually calmed.
From then on, he never went crazy like that again, nor did he write such wild and beautiful love letters. But he seemed to be forever haunted by his first love’s failure. On Valentine’s Day in 20xx, he publicly shared his first love on his blog, concluding: “Dreams can be pursued, careers can be sought. But love cannot be chased or begged for. People often use the word ‘pursue’ in the context of love, but it’s the most inappropriate term. True love is natural, spontaneous, uncontrollable, and mutual, with no need for ‘pursuit’ or ‘begging.'”
He is He Dong, a host at Phoenix TV, and one of the hosts I have always admired. He is indeed not handsome, nor funny, but he is rough and natural, never pretentious, living openly and freely.
Years later, he still remembers many details of his first love, the sorrows of youth, vividly. I see his purity and passion, his delicacy and melancholy, and understand that the bright, gentle moon has always hung in his heart. That moon represents the “elegant girl” and a man’s noble and sincere feelings.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
