After Sunrise, Before Sunset

作者: 古德曼Goodman | 来源:发表于2016-04-09 14:58 被阅读118次

    To you:

    At the first glance of you, I knew something would happen.

    In that morning, from Hoàn Kiem Lake where I lived by to the West Lake where the conference took place, I walked through half of Hanoi, which, for now, seems a religious journey to see you. You were silent and peaceful in a corner of that middle-size conference room when I stepped in. Under the cloudy sky, you looked such a little bit of melancholy that made me notice you immediately among all the present participants who were talking and laughing. Without words, I sat beside you with one empty chair between us, and thought of ways to talk with you politely.

    You were the first Vietnamese girl I talked with. I would not forget how we started with the first conversation. I showed you photos I took on the way to ask you what the Vietnamese in the photos mean. You thought for a while to organize the English words and then translated to me with smile that started from your mouth to your eyes. Since then, I started the journey of curiosity about you and satisfied by you.

    I was impressed by you during the activity relevant to cultural identity, in which the facilitator told us to draw something that could symbolize us. You drew a vine growing up around a tree, and you explained that you were not that social type and wanted to have something to support you just like the tree. I now feel so sorry about my reaction because I didn’t fully understand what you had meant by that painting. Afterwards, through your mouth, when your life stories printed in my brain, I finally understood each word you said in front of me at that time.

    During the whole official conference, there was not even one coincidence that made I sit with you around the same table during the meals. What I could feel comfortable was only the official conversation and expressions interacting with you during the sessions. I was afraid of the indifference might grow just like the wild grass in the fields if you don’t continue cultivate the rice. At that time, I was even not sure about your whole name, so I just remembered the country you represented and then checked in delegation list, and then added you in Facebook that I didn’t often use. You were certain to be curious about why I checked with you face-to-face during the break whether I had already added you in Facebook, which just meant that I wanted to impress you that person added you yesterday was me.

    When the conference was over, I searched you with all the efforts among the people who were engaged into taking photos and talking. I found you, asked for a together photo, and then gave you a small gift. Without saying anything special out of the mouth, I just smiled to you. I didn’t know whether that would be the forever ending of the meeting, which drove me to say something but none in reality.

    Fortunately, I met you in the party. You still wore that blue suit and sweater that made me recognize you immediately. For you, I joined in the game. For saving you from the punishment in the game, I proposed to dance with you but with a little hesitation that just made me lose the opportunity to do that, because you already ran to some people to scare them to fulfill the punishment.

    I chatted with you a lot in Facebook with any beautiful words I could think of. Luckily, all the efforts made sense. You gave me positive replies and we could further many interesting topics with happiness and tacit understanding.

    I would never forget your sudden appearance during the final hotpot party. You stepped in and then looked at me. What I had was only surprise and hesitation. What should I do? I asked myself. The answer of me was just passed through nearly all the people to sit beside you and chatted with you. That conversation gave me the chance to translate your Vietnamese name into Chinese so that I might remember them as long as I could, because Chinese characters made more sense than Vietnamese letters for me. After the hotpot, I chose to continue to stay with you and also other people to a coffee shop on the West Lake. We continued chatting, and what we chatted seemingly wasn’t important. What was important, in my mind, was just with you. After the coffee, I again chose to stay and moved to an abandoned house near the West Lake. Several people including you and me sat on the roof of that house and had a whole view of the lake. And of course, chatting continued between us, only us, during which, you asked again and again for the permission from your mom to stay a little longer with me.

    On the day before I left, I invited you to guide me to travel in Hanoi. You drove a bigger motorbike compared with your figure, and I sat behind you in the air of you. The wind blew your hair and all the fragrance flooded into my nose and mouse. We visited the National Ethnology Museum where you told me your whole life story of your isolation in Sweden and happiness in Thailand, which, in my view, made you such a peaceful and silent girl. The life story continued to be told by you in a Chinese restaurant, and I was still a good listener.

    The egg coffee shop would be an unforgettable memory during my whole life. Under a “White Elephant” picture that we just talked about, sitting closely with you on a big bench, we shared our hobbies about detective story and science fiction. In my eyes, all the time, you were beautiful in terms of the way that you spoke English in, and the smile that appeared in your face.

    And your face was seemingly what I only remembered during the visiting in National Military Museum, though I loved histories and military stories.

    You drove me to your university for submission of your graduating documents which made me have a chance to walk around the place you lived and studied for nearly four years. In here, I knew that you were active and famous. And also, in here, I knew you had a boyfriend.

    On the bench in the campus, I confessed my affection to you, and you also did that. However, there were some words, as you said, that you couldn’t say and you would rather choose to bury them into your heart forever. There were some obstacles, as you noticed, that you couldn’t ignore and you would rather choose not to overcome. I just looked at you even though you felt shy and asked me to look away, but how could I look away from you?

    You wanted to go home earlier before the sunset which really meant something to me and I understood. I hugged you in front of the hotel, and went into the hotel directly without any single one turning-around.

    And now, looking out of the window, I see the moon that you can also see in the sky. However, it may be the last opportunity for us to see the moon in such short distance in the same city. As I sang in the gala, the moon just represents my heart. And maybe just like the Vietnamese joke you told to me, the moon can represent my stomach because it was cured by the therapy of you.

    In this world, many people gradually love each other in every single day because of a series of moments just like what we have, but also, many of them, who choose to stay together, finally suffer from the love during the whole lives.

    Although I don’t want to admit, I do like this short love but full of good memories. Since tomorrow, when we are in the different corners in this large world, when we hear of some news about our countries and peoples, we may smile to recall the memories and think of each other.

    Moments are now flooding into my mind. Those emotional driving when I sat behind you; Those impressive conversations that I talked with you; Those delicious noodles and egg coffees I took in with you; Those laughs and smiles under the “White Elephant” picture about our common hobbies released by you; Those curiosities about you and satisfied by you; Those words on the bench in your campus unspoken and buried into the heart by you; From the first glance to the last hug, moments just like your name, Minh Chau, will be bright pearl in the sea of my mind.

    I do forever cherish all those moments just like cherish parts of my body. Before I came to Vietnam, I read the novel wrote by Duras, Lover, and I heard of the famous opera, Miss Saigon, and both of them are beautiful love story. But now, I would like to forget them, because I have already had mine.

    On the each future single day, I do wish you all the best, which seems what I only can do at most.


    From you:

    To my beloved,

    It’s been 5 hours since the plane took off. I tried to search for the duration of a flight from Hanoi to Chongqing. They say it would be at least half a day, so you are probably still on your way. Notwithstanding my awareness, I still keep the small box of our conversation on Facebook opened, hopefully the tiny green spot would appear though I know there is not a chance for that to happen in the next few hours, even the next few months.

    I know it’s hard to access to Facebook around there. Indeed, we could keep in touch through a variety of other means. Nevertheless, I wonder if I would do so. I don’t want to ruin the stainless moments we had. I’m afraid that time would destroy our image in each other’s eyes. But still, I want to write to you, at least as a last goodbye.

    Just so you know, right now I desperately want to feel your close existence as much as a hundredfold of what I’m been through days ago while I was waiting for your messages. Perhaps you don’t have a clue how impatient I was.

    To look back on the first impression I had with you, I heard others’ curiosity about you but I never looked at you the way they did. I’m surprised that I didn’t even notice your efforts. That’s why questions keep popping up in my head hitherto. Please don’t resent me as a skeptic at your sweetness and honesty. I wasn’t a kind of confidence since what you’ve brought to me is a dream beyond imagination.

    I knew your intention of never making the air between us intense. Regardless of your confession that you did the utmost to make me smile, I still admire the beauty that had already been there in your every single word.

    To talk with you more is to be seduced into the conversations with you. I didn’t know since when I started waiting, imagining, and holding back my heart and my mind. However much the time I spent for you, it still seemed inadequate. I never wanted to miss a word of you. I was even afraid that if it had taken so long for me to reply, or if I had talked to you too much, you would have felt that it was a waste of time. So when I was busy with my work, I urged you to join the others, not that I didn’t want to talk but to give you enough space so you’d to want to talk to me more.

    I was frustrated by the independence you offered me when you said it was my decision whether to join the last night at the West Lake, and whether to stay a bit longer when 40 minutes was all we had left. The only time you did hold on was when you told me not to leave so early, to join you on the roof of the old house. That was all that I’d ever wanted to hear, so I did. While talking to you, I didn’t mind who was to leave or to stay, who was to sit next to me or not. It was only you that I did care about.

    I cared about the way you listened to me while I was driving. I felt your warmth and our proximity. I felt for your look while we were talking at the coffee shop. I felt the indescribably amazing atmosphere while the things we had in common was one by one mentioned. The stories ranging from novels, movies, history, and religions to psychology, philosophy, and even astrobiology. I’ve never bumped into someone that I could share that much mutual interest, someone with such a gorgeous mind. That’s when I felt your arm behind my back that I could fall into whenever I want. I wanted to lean on your shoulders and fall asleep. But I didn’t have the guts to fulfill all my desires.

    When you said you were frustrated because you liked me, it made so much sense to me. I had been waiting so long to tell you I liked you. But “like” couldn’t completely express how much you meant to me. I was thinking ambitiously and selfishly. I wanted to put a kiss on your lips as much as you did. I hated the embarrassment I had and the context in which we were.

    Getting back to the hotel, I had so much to say but so little that I could express. I wished you would tell me to stay a little longer, just like the night before. Our images were about to vanish from sight, but we didn’t have a proper goodbye in the end. If only I could hold you for another minute to feel your warmth and heartbeat. I would cling onto the moment and immerse in it as if I could stop the time.

    I felt the inconsistency in your words when you told me about regrets and the desire of being together last night. You told me to stay but then urged me to sleep. I was confused at first but it would be so selfish of me to force you to explain. After all I thought I understood. So, I chose ignorance instead.

    My beloved,

    The story of us is just like how we missed the sunrise and sunset. No start, no end. Just appear to be there and remain an indelible imprint. The affinity we had was there to be perceived. It reminds us that once in our lives we witnessed the delicacy of the identical souls. I would never want this to be just another ordinary experience so I choose to write to you, to flow my heart with the spectacular memories we had. This story wouldn’t be comprehensive if it was only about how you feel. I want you to feel me too.

    Thank you for being such a kind and cozy person, to praise my identity and to let me know you. Wishes wouldn’t be enough. I just hope you will carry on with your track and continue to be this wonder I’ve ever met.

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