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20 giugno

TM My Love That Never Happened

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I can neither clearly remember when I met she for the first time nor clearly remember when I started to love she. But I know I do love she, deeply, with all my heart, and out of my control.

I had experienced some unhappiness during the summer vacation before I became a freshman in an unsatisfactory college. At that time, I was drowned in a depressed state without mood to do anything. I had no intention to pursue any romantic relationship, but I fell in love with she suddenly, unawarely, and out of my control.

she was the chairman of the poem society while I was a director of one branch. It was a youthful, passionate, and enthusiastic time. A group of juvenile people gathered to discuss the poem society‘s past and future. I was so happy that I devoted my whole heart to the society. I was delighted to be one of the group, and she was the most impressing one. It seemed that she also impressed on me very much. she lived in the eastern area of campus while I was in the western area. she often asked me to treat she once she came to the western area. We often played jokes each other.

Undoubtedly, we were happy when we got together. But at that time I just adored she without any romantic feelings.

A turning point came up when one night I had a dream, in which she asked me to be she boyfriend. After I woke up the next morning, the dream was so clear that I almost believed it had happened in the real world. Afterwards, I could not stop thinking of she. In other words, I became interested in she, who is full of stories and experiences. His parents got divorced when she was two years old, and she spent she childhood with she grandfather and grand grandmother. When she was ten years old, she moved to she mother‘s family, with a stepfather, two half-sisters and a half-brother, so I thought he had some self-pity. she was good at writing and could always skillfully write his experiences in she works. In reality, she was a humorous galr always with a fascinating smile. she never told us she sad feelings and unhappy experiences. In contrast, the stories in she writings were full of sorrows which shocked me deeply, so she was just like a puzzle to me. I pitied she so much that I felt sad for she sorrows. I could not control my feeling and curiosity, so I was eager to walk into she world and know more about she. What‘s more, I was eager to let she know more about me. Therefore, I got she QQ number from one of his old friends and began a cyber chat without giving my true name, but I told she my true feeling and my true life. I even hoped she could guess my true identity, thus I could make a judgment whether she cared about me. I was disappointed that she had no idea of who I was. During those days, it seemed that she liked talking with "HER". sHe often left messages to "HER" even when I wasn‘t online. However, I began to be self-condemned. My conscience told me it‘s unfair for she because I knew who she was in the reality but she knew nothing about me. Finally, I told she everything in the summer vacation. At first she was very angry, but later on she forgave me.

I didn‘t know whether something went wrong or we had changed. I found we lost happiness when we got together. I was sure I loved she so much but I tried every effort to hold back my feeling. I was afraid that she felt my feeling, and I even began self-deceit that I just appreciated she not for love but for friendship. I fought with myself, torturing my true feeling with sensibility, but it did exist with enormous power, and perhaps this’ s the very reason I succumbed to illness for a long time. When the long painful term passed, I decided to escape, escaping from she world. I left the poem society and decided to live my peaceful life. I believed time would be the painkiller. I hoped I would forget she as time elapsed. I wasn‘t confident enough to tell him my love and my pain, and I even thought my love was a mistake. To tell the truth, it was difficult for me to face him peacefully and treat she as a good friend. The only way to save myself is to escape from his world. A peaceful term of life came to an end, and I thought I could be she friend from then on, so I often went to she dormitory during the second summer vacation. Unfortunately, she was very indifferent, ignored my existence and never talked with me. Although I still kept a very peaceful appearance, chatting and laughing with another friend in she dormitory during the summer vacation, she attitude greatly saddened me, and the torrent was running in my heart. I told myself “I don’t care” again and again, but it came to no use at all, especially when I recalled the past. I didn‘t think she care me even if as a friend, which resulted in a cold feeling within my heart.

Our conflict eventually broke out on one night during the National Day. Selina, one of my old friends as well as she friend on Internet, came to see me from hong kong. As I mentioned above, my heart was frozen with sadness. Without telling she, I asked junior brothers with me to pick up my good friend at 1 o’clock late in the night. We were so happy together that we almost forgot others in the world and sent no message to she during the first two days. On the third afternoon, she and another friend sent me a message and invited us to move around the city. When we were about to have dinner, I came across the junior brothers who accompanied us on the night when Selina arrived. I was so happy to see them and enthusiastically invited them to dinner. After they took their seats, she seemed to get a little angry. sHe unhappily stood on his feet and went to another table without any explanation. I was confused and didn’t know what wrong I had done just now. At first, I thought maybe it’s impolite for she that I invited some strangers without she agreement, so I went to pay the bill. But she looked very unhappy, kept silent, and ignored everybody during the whole night. I was very angry at she behavior and satire she deliberately with a cold tone. sHe later sent me a shocking e-mail, because I really hadn‘t meant that. sHe told me that she was very unhappy just because we sent she no message about my friend’s arrival. It had nothing to do with my invitation of strangers, and she was broken-hearted for what I had said to him that night. I didn’t know how to explain and dissolve the misunderstanding and had to let it be. But even in this e-mail I could not make sure whether she cared me or not because he wrote in such an obscure way.

I would never forget the moment when I was broken-hearted. A junior brother asked me whether she‘s always tired of talking with me, then the junior bother went on, "Do you know why?" I shook my head. "Because she thinks you’re self-arrogant." These words made everything before my eyes fall apart. I tried my best to calm myself down and asked, "How do you know that?” The junior brother explained that maybe the comment didn‘t come directly from she words but indirectly from others‘ summary of his words. At that time I felt my heart was torn into small pieces, and I resolutely decided to delete his name from my good friend list forever.

Time passed, but those joys and sorrows were still alive on my mind. I was not such a mindless boy who believed everything from other’s words. In fact, I didn’t believe what the junior brother had told me after I thought them over. But I still found it was difficult for me to be kind and friendly to she. Once I saw she, those words haunted around my ear and hurt me deeply. I couldn‘t even force myself to nod and greet she with a cheerful and warm smile. They at least reflected other’s opinions about what she thought of me, and this was what I cared about.

Now she has a boy friend and seems to live a happy life, but I think I still love she as before, because a pain does exist vividly and deeply in my heart anytime when I think of she, and he will be an inerasable pain deeply in my heart all my life.

This is my love, which never happened but will live in my heart forever.

A Sandpiper To Bring You Joy

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

"Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. "I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand.
"That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went glissading down the beach. "Good-bye joy," I muttered to myself, "hello pain," and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Ruth," I answered. "I'm Ruth Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy."
She giggled. "You're funny," she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mrs. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."
The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. "I need a sandpiper," I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.
The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
"Hello, Mrs. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know, you say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk." Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness
of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day.
Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed. Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."
She seems unusually pale and out of breath.
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"Yes, and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt? "
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?" "Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said. "I'm Ruth Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in" "Wendy talked of you so much.
I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all-she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. "Where is she?"
"Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you." Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught.
"She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.
She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." her voice faltered.
"She left something for you...if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together.

The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words- one for each year of her life- that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color sand--- who taught me the gift of love.