It started to rain in the morning, while we were still in the classroom that faces Mont Royal, we heard the rain fell suddenly and rapidly, hitting the glass panel of the rear windows in our class, like anxious knocks at the door in quiet night. It shocked us, and nearly the whole class turned to look.
The girl sitting next to me is in love, she is sending text messages to her love during class, and I glanced over and saw an text from her Italian lover appearing in yellow highlights signifying it's a message she received from him: 'Where are you my love?" Aha, it's the international language of lovers, "my love" exist in all languages, in French it's "Mon amour", in Spanish "Mi amour" in Italian "Mio Amore". He is a bastard of Italian and Spanish, speaking French and English fluently as foreign language, and Italian and Spanish as mother tongues.
She confessed, although she has a boy friend, she had fallen in love with this Italian. He is so charming, so gentle, so hopelessly romantic, comparing to her Chinese boy friend who support her financially generously, she found from this Italian what has been missing from her Chinese boy friend.
She knew she depends heavily on her unromantic Chinese boy friend her quality of life and financial freedom, but on the other side her feelings toward him is weak and dry. To fairly state it, she needs him more than she wants him. It's a relationship of somewhat, if not purely love, perhaps un exchange of needs, of interest, un fair one? It's the most popular exchange in the market of society: Money for Beauty. Money for security. Who can criticize it? If both sides are willing to do so, and are doing so freely.
The older I grow, the less strict I am to criticize others.
We are all easily judgemental, to others. But who are we really to say what's wrong or what's right? Each one is entitled to live as they wish, happy or miserable, it's a personal choice. If they were able to achieve happiness, congratulations. If they were in misery, pity them, for they know no better otherwise.
We are all victims of our own choice, while we all make our best effort to do it right. When we do it wrong, we need not to hear a denouncement, but sympathy. The punishment is not necessary to be given by others, because the result itself, of a bad decision, make us suffer enough already.
My classmate told me, her Italian asked to her official boy friend, but she could not right now, because she wants to see after 6 months, after the passions fade away, how he would be like. She lowered her head and then looked into my eyes and said "I think we have lesser 40% of chance. More likely than not, this love affair won't last. It won't lead us to marriage." If her intuitive feelings are true, why does she still continue? Why is she planning a trip to Europe together with this Italian? Because she is in love, knowing their future is vague doesn't stop her steps of advancing in love. Love is like a legend, people hear about it and doubt whether it's real until it's being experienced personally.
I watched her, like watching a play on live show, like watching the rain fell, flapping the glass window panel. What love will do to her? Who knows. Perhaps that's exactly the charm of life, because of all the uncertainties, like the uncertainty of a rainfall. Sometimes rains save the lives of plants, sometimes it kills off, sometimes the rain nurses, sometimes the rain ruins. The Right "Rain" quench the thirst of life, while the Wrong "Rain" floods away the base of life.
Who knows? Love happens, like life happens, life rain falls.
posted on 2014-04-16 05:13 Sunshine 万里长空
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