“ Toil and trouble” is his title for his personal ad. He emails me first. I start reading his self-introduction. It is quite a short one. It actually does not reveal a lot of details. It tells me his age, his education, income, hobbies, and working field. It has a short paragraph about what kind of person he is looking for and his personal observation of people. But it hit me like a lightening. Suddenly, I feel I could see his very soul behind it. It is toiled. It is trouble. It is complicated. Only because he always struggles to understand the meaning of his existence in this world. Only because he cares so much.
He looks at me. He starts with my earrings. It’s a pair of earrings that every girl has one. They are big round white silver ones. I could read in his eyes that they are not of his taste. He scanned my sweater. I wish I wore the one with a little bit more curve around the breast. A man is a man is a man. Maybe it’s the light in the restaurant. It is kind of pale light that takes away all the beauty and mystery of a girl. Hey, what if I wear a different outfit with different hairstyles. I can read how I look in his eyes. I look like a plain, long hair, petite Asian girl. Asians are delicate flowers. But she just looks so different. It takes a personality to like an Asian girl.
He is not even handsome, not tall. I’m not a tall girl. I wear high heel. When I turn to him, I could see his eyes. For most of other guys, I could only see the neck, or the chest. So he’s not tall. He could be cute, though. He has this classic look. He has nice lips, green eyes, blond soft hair. He wore a stripe dark color shirt. It looks soft, could be 100 % cotton. You can get this at Mervin. I see a little bit of his neck with white and soft skin. He eats “pho” with “che ba mau”. He eats pepper with his hands.
I am looking at him sitting there eating and there is a flash in my heart that this is a soul that I have been looking for. This is it. I feel warm and peaceful. I know this guy will treat the girl he loves with kindness, generosity, romance, and humor. At the same time, I know that the girl is not going to be me. But I can’t resist a secret hope and joy in my heart that maybe, just maybe someday, he will gaze through the cloud that covers his eyes now and see me. I know he is looking at me but not seeing me now. I know he would never know that I know him. He would never know I know he is one of those special few that we don’t meet everyday. I know he has his own world that is far different from that of an average guy. I know he is very intelligent, picky, ambitious, warm hearted, sophisticated, profound, romantic, charming, and has a lot of dreams, lonely, and always has trouble with himself. He grew up not having anybody noticing who he really was. Only he knew that and he talked to himself, built his own world, his own way, his own pride, and fought hard to protect it. I know he has a dry sense of humor. I know he will make me laugh. I know it by looking at him sitting there with a large, stubborn forehead, and bright, dreamy and quiet eyes. I know it by reading his short self-introduction with long, complicated sentences about how he doesn’t like pretentious people. It tells me a bout a soul, about a person with a struggle, toiled, sophisticated soul, but a very kind, and very alive soul. And he’s sitting there talking about his home state Missouri, where he grew up in a farm, milked cows and bailed hay. He is talking about how he broke the family tradition of men getting married and have kids after high school to go to MIT and then Stanford, about how he felt so different from all the big sport boys in school, and how he finally came here working for a wireless company designing chips for the very cell phone that I have in my hand. He looks so peaceful and reliable. For a flash of a moment, I feel that I could cry because I feel so safe, so protected, and so peaceful with him and because for very first time, I don’t have to try to feel that joy. I don’t have to pretend. For a moment, I feel as if the material world doesn’t exist, there’s only my soul connecting with his soul. I feel light and actually happy. I try to resist the urge to tell him how I know him, how I feel about him. There is this voice screaming inside me. You have to let him know. Let him know! But I ignore that voice with all my humanly possible effort. After all, this is only the second date. I should just keep my manner. I should just keep my mouth rambling about impersonal topics like the weather, and family, and work. I should keep displaying my pride, and pretend that I am only interested in this encounter to the extent that he is. He would never believe me if I tell him anyway. He may as well think that I am a lunatic. After all, all the information I have about him to this point is a picture and a brief self-ad on a website, and several exchanged emails. Why do I have this feeling that I have known him and waited for him for a long time? And everything that he wrote me and he is going to tell me about himself, I already knew. I know he had a lot of trouble growing up. I know he never got the girl that he liked in high school because she belonged to the big football player. I know he knew he was smarter but people were shallow and he was lonely because he was different. I know he likes to read and falls asleep on the beach on sunny days and there are days that the kids playing on the beach surrounding him looking at him sleeping curiously and he wakes up, looks at them and smiles. I know sometimes he just sits there by himself on the beach and talks to some strangers and finds it interesting. I know he loves kids and desires a family. I know he’s still quietly waiting for that one girl who will opens the door to his heart. I know he had lot of dreams. And he still does. And he is quite different from rest. And he knows that.
It could never work out anyway. I told myself. This kind of happiness that I feel sitting here with him only reserve for angels in heaven, not a normal person on earth like me. A person on earth like me will go on with her life, find a guy who loves her, whom she will learn to love, get married, has a couple of kids, continue the act of a good wife, a good mom, and sometimes vaguely remember that there were moments in her life that she was actually herself and in love, and happy. Secretly, I feel myself treasuring every moment of this date because I know I am going to remember that one time I meet a man whom I am naturally attracted to. I know this person will treat his girl right. I know I could respect his mind and trust his heart. And it hurts, too, knowing that he is slipping away without ever knowing that the person sitting in front of him could as well be the one who understands him and loves him all his life. Life is really unfair isn’t it? How do people fall in and out of love? How do they ever learn to notice that one person that God sends to them to love and cherish and friend with them all their life? It’s hard to find that right person in the crowd.
I say good-bye to him in a parking lot. I know that there won’t be a third date. I
know that I won’t call because he won’t call. I know that sometimes I will find myself looking for anything that relates to his home state Missouri. I will quietly read about how people grow up in a farm, how they milk cow and how hay smells. I know that sometimes, I will find myself walking on the beach where he usually spends time reading. I know that I will find myself looking around when I go to the mall or restaurants quietly hopping to accidentally run into him to just say “ Hello, stranger!” I know that when the weather changes, when it suddenly becomes rainy and everything smells fresh, or when it’s windy and the wind plays with my hair, I will miss him and this heavenly feeling of joy, hope and peace will revisit me and remind me that there are moments that are worth a lifetime. I know that there will be days that I secretly hope that every other person on earth will disappear leaving only he and I and he will get to know me and see my soul then.
I give him a hug. I feel his shoulder and smell his perfume. I say “ Thank you for a lovely evening”. I watch him walking away to his car. It is a dark and cold winter night. My eyes are dry and my mouth is cold. Good-bye, my dream.
He looks at me. He starts with my earrings. It’s a pair of earrings that every girl has one. They are big round white silver ones. I could read in his eyes that they are not of his taste. He scanned my sweater. I wish I wore the one with a little bit more curve around the breast. A man is a man is a man. Maybe it’s the light in the restaurant. It is kind of pale light that takes away all the beauty and mystery of a girl. Hey, what if I wear a different outfit with different hairstyles. I can read how I look in his eyes. I look like a plain, long hair, petite Asian girl. Asians are delicate flowers. But she just looks so different. It takes a personality to like an Asian girl.
He is not even handsome, not tall. I’m not a tall girl. I wear high heel. When I turn to him, I could see his eyes. For most of other guys, I could only see the neck, or the chest. So he’s not tall. He could be cute, though. He has this classic look. He has nice lips, green eyes, blond soft hair. He wore a stripe dark color shirt. It looks soft, could be 100 % cotton. You can get this at Mervin. I see a little bit of his neck with white and soft skin. He eats “pho” with “che ba mau”. He eats pepper with his hands.
I am looking at him sitting there eating and there is a flash in my heart that this is a soul that I have been looking for. This is it. I feel warm and peaceful. I know this guy will treat the girl he loves with kindness, generosity, romance, and humor. At the same time, I know that the girl is not going to be me. But I can’t resist a secret hope and joy in my heart that maybe, just maybe someday, he will gaze through the cloud that covers his eyes now and see me. I know he is looking at me but not seeing me now. I know he would never know that I know him. He would never know I know he is one of those special few that we don’t meet everyday. I know he has his own world that is far different from that of an average guy. I know he is very intelligent, picky, ambitious, warm hearted, sophisticated, profound, romantic, charming, and has a lot of dreams, lonely, and always has trouble with himself. He grew up not having anybody noticing who he really was. Only he knew that and he talked to himself, built his own world, his own way, his own pride, and fought hard to protect it. I know he has a dry sense of humor. I know he will make me laugh. I know it by looking at him sitting there with a large, stubborn forehead, and bright, dreamy and quiet eyes. I know it by reading his short self-introduction with long, complicated sentences about how he doesn’t like pretentious people. It tells me a bout a soul, about a person with a struggle, toiled, sophisticated soul, but a very kind, and very alive soul. And he’s sitting there talking about his home state Missouri, where he grew up in a farm, milked cows and bailed hay. He is talking about how he broke the family tradition of men getting married and have kids after high school to go to MIT and then Stanford, about how he felt so different from all the big sport boys in school, and how he finally came here working for a wireless company designing chips for the very cell phone that I have in my hand. He looks so peaceful and reliable. For a flash of a moment, I feel that I could cry because I feel so safe, so protected, and so peaceful with him and because for very first time, I don’t have to try to feel that joy. I don’t have to pretend. For a moment, I feel as if the material world doesn’t exist, there’s only my soul connecting with his soul. I feel light and actually happy. I try to resist the urge to tell him how I know him, how I feel about him. There is this voice screaming inside me. You have to let him know. Let him know! But I ignore that voice with all my humanly possible effort. After all, this is only the second date. I should just keep my manner. I should just keep my mouth rambling about impersonal topics like the weather, and family, and work. I should keep displaying my pride, and pretend that I am only interested in this encounter to the extent that he is. He would never believe me if I tell him anyway. He may as well think that I am a lunatic. After all, all the information I have about him to this point is a picture and a brief self-ad on a website, and several exchanged emails. Why do I have this feeling that I have known him and waited for him for a long time? And everything that he wrote me and he is going to tell me about himself, I already knew. I know he had a lot of trouble growing up. I know he never got the girl that he liked in high school because she belonged to the big football player. I know he knew he was smarter but people were shallow and he was lonely because he was different. I know he likes to read and falls asleep on the beach on sunny days and there are days that the kids playing on the beach surrounding him looking at him sleeping curiously and he wakes up, looks at them and smiles. I know sometimes he just sits there by himself on the beach and talks to some strangers and finds it interesting. I know he loves kids and desires a family. I know he’s still quietly waiting for that one girl who will opens the door to his heart. I know he had lot of dreams. And he still does. And he is quite different from rest. And he knows that.
It could never work out anyway. I told myself. This kind of happiness that I feel sitting here with him only reserve for angels in heaven, not a normal person on earth like me. A person on earth like me will go on with her life, find a guy who loves her, whom she will learn to love, get married, has a couple of kids, continue the act of a good wife, a good mom, and sometimes vaguely remember that there were moments in her life that she was actually herself and in love, and happy. Secretly, I feel myself treasuring every moment of this date because I know I am going to remember that one time I meet a man whom I am naturally attracted to. I know this person will treat his girl right. I know I could respect his mind and trust his heart. And it hurts, too, knowing that he is slipping away without ever knowing that the person sitting in front of him could as well be the one who understands him and loves him all his life. Life is really unfair isn’t it? How do people fall in and out of love? How do they ever learn to notice that one person that God sends to them to love and cherish and friend with them all their life? It’s hard to find that right person in the crowd.
I say good-bye to him in a parking lot. I know that there won’t be a third date. I
know that I won’t call because he won’t call. I know that sometimes I will find myself looking for anything that relates to his home state Missouri. I will quietly read about how people grow up in a farm, how they milk cow and how hay smells. I know that sometimes, I will find myself walking on the beach where he usually spends time reading. I know that I will find myself looking around when I go to the mall or restaurants quietly hopping to accidentally run into him to just say “ Hello, stranger!” I know that when the weather changes, when it suddenly becomes rainy and everything smells fresh, or when it’s windy and the wind plays with my hair, I will miss him and this heavenly feeling of joy, hope and peace will revisit me and remind me that there are moments that are worth a lifetime. I know that there will be days that I secretly hope that every other person on earth will disappear leaving only he and I and he will get to know me and see my soul then.
I give him a hug. I feel his shoulder and smell his perfume. I say “ Thank you for a lovely evening”. I watch him walking away to his car. It is a dark and cold winter night. My eyes are dry and my mouth is cold. Good-bye, my dream.
)
