The Direction of Love
On the phone, just as he had many years ago in those youthful days, he softly asked her: “Do you want me to pick you up? I’ll buy you something to eat.”
Holding the phone, she started to cry. How many years had it been since she last ate her favorite peanuts? They were out-of-season peanuts, exuding the aroma of soil even in the off-harvest season, but they were shockingly expensive.
She came from the Jianghan Plain, and every year when students returned to school in the fall, the fields were covered with fresh peanuts. Year after year, she grew up in that fragrance, like a phoenix spreading its wings, leaving the land and flying to the city.
She never saw freshly unearthed peanuts covered in dirt again, nor did she see him anymore—it was her choice. As a farmer’s child, she was willing to sacrifice a lot to write her life into the city, such as her favorite peanuts, and her beloved him.
She buried everything in her heart and married her current husband, Amang.
Amang never said he loved her. From the beginning, their married life was as flat as a lake at the bottom of a valley, without any waves. Besides a house in the city, Amang had nothing else to offer her.
She was clever and delicate, while he was simple and honest; she was fashionable and romantic, while he was traditional and conservative. They were not the same kind of people, yet they became a family.
She often despised herself for marrying a man she didn’t love for the sake of certain things, and she couldn’t understand Amang either. Knowing she didn’t love him, he still stubbornly insisted on marrying her.
Her lover said on the phone, “As long as you want, I can buy you out-of-season peanuts every day, and also the house you want.” Everything had changed; he was no longer the poor and awkward country boy. He was still waiting for her, “I beg you, please, leave the man you don’t love!”
Even without his plea, she wanted to leave Amang. Years later, she realized that what she truly wanted wasn’t the house, nor the man who could give her a house. What she wanted was love and out-of-season peanuts. These things, Amang, the silly Amang, could never give her.
Since then, she saw everything he did as wrong.
He wasn’t efficient enough, he lacked grandeur, he ate noisily, and he spoke in a muffled voice. She constantly criticized him, and he never argued back, letting her say whatever she wanted.
At the beginning of summer, it was unbearably hot, making her even more irritable. Coming home from work, she saw rice porridge boiling on the stove, and he was lounging on the sofa watching TV. She threw her handbag onto the other end of the sofa.
“In every household, the man is the backbone, but not you. You come home and just watch TV.”
“With such an easy job, can’t you think of doing something else? With your meager salary, it’s hard enough to support yourself, let alone a family.”
Amang didn’t respond. Hearing the porridge boiling, he got up, picked up the pot, and walked towards the small coffee table in the living room, where he had already prepared a large ceramic bowl. She followed him, nagging all the while, standing across the coffee table from him.
He remained silent. As he poured the boiling water into the bowl, it splashed onto his bare arm, scalding him so badly that he shivered.
She was both anxious and angry, running into the kitchen to fetch cold water to pour over his burn repeatedly, “I told you you’re stupid, and you really are. Who pours like that? Everyone else pours away from themselves, but you pour towards yourself. No wonder you got scalded!”
Despite the pain, he grinned foolishly, “You were standing opposite me, if I poured away from myself, it would have splashed on you!”
Hearing his words, she was stunned. Yes, if he had poured away from himself, it would have scalded her. How could she not have thought of that? She had only been blaming his foolishness, not realizing that he had such a clear sense of the direction of love in his heart, while she had clearly lost her way in temptation.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
