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The voice on the other end of the phone trembled with tears.
Ta
I had an idea of what was happening and shook my head. “Auntie, I’m sorry, but I can’t grant his wish. Tell him I’m doing fine now, and not to worry about me.”
I
After hanging up, I thought back to who I was two years ago–like a stray dog–and it felt as though I was looking
at someone else’s life.
Three days later, lan’s high school classmates‘ group chat exploded.
“Did you hear? lan’s gone!”
“What? When did that happen?”
“Last night, he died at home… AIDS. The same thing Paula had.”
“I heard he was still calling his ex–wife’s name before he died.”
“Wow, he really got what he deserved! Old squad leader, should we go pay our respects?”
“I can’t, my mom’s about to give birth, I have to be here.”
“I can’t either, my mother–in–law’s about to give birth…”
I stared at the weak excuses flooding the screen, a mix of emotions rising in me.
The friends and brothers lan once considered his closest companions–they couldn’t even be bothered to
goodbye.
It’s true–when it comes down to it, the ones who truly matter are still your parents, your spouse, and your
children.
Too bad lan never realized that.
On the day of his funeral, I still brought a bunch of white chrysanthemums and quietly made my way to the
cemetery.
His parents, the elderly who had to bury their child, were grieving loudly in front of his gravestone.
It began to drizzle as I stood there, watching.
On the day of his funeral, I still brought a bunch of white chrysanthemums and quietly made my way to the cemetery.
His parents, the elderly who had to bury their child, were grieving loudly in front of his gravestone.
It began to drizzle as I stood there, watching.
Once everyone left, I stepped forward.
The photo on the tombstone captured his smile, bright and warm, just like spring.
At that time, he was still a handsome boy on the basketball court.
I remembered when we first met–he’d tried so hard to get my phone number, only to nervously call me by the wrong name when I answered.
When I graduated, he filled the basketball court with flowers and candles and proposed to me on one knee, with everyone cheering around us.
At 18, I wore a wedding dress, and in front of family and friends, with a heart full of hope, I became his wife.
Time had changed him–the man who once treated me like treasure–and it had changed me, too. I had once believed in love as a guiding principle.
I placed the chrysanthemums gently at the base of his tombstone, looked at his photo, and whispered softly,
“lan, I don’t hate you anymore. I don’t love you anymore. Goodbye.”
The wind picked up, blowing the rain sideways, and I turned, stepping into the downpour without a glance back.
The past was like smoke, love, and hate carried away by the wind.
From now on, I would live for myself, free and happy.
I will make this life count!