Just like most anecdotes, we’ll start this one with a description of time, place and weather.

It was one Friday night in early summer. The mix of summer night smell and cool breeze of the spring were there.
I turned into one of the small streets in that ancient town of Japan. During the day, this part of the town is a busy shopping street,  filled with youngsters shopping in their big hairs and modern hip clothes. No one would guess how different it could look at night. With all the shops closed and lights are off, all old wooden houses are visible, and you could easily get lost inside these small alleys.
My friends dragged me here,

"let’s stop by here a while. live painting. we’ll go to our bar after this"  one of them said.
"live painting?" I was not sure what that meant. But before anyone could answer, we were already inside a tiny ‘crepes and sweets’ shop.

A group of girls and boys wearing mixtures of jeans and Japanese traditional clothes sitting there, sipping beers, eating crepe cakes and smoking. They screamed "welcome!! come, come, upstairs".

Well, surprisingly, "live painting" meant literally live painting.
Around 10 young street artists paint right there, on the second floor of that cake shop, we - guests- watch and the artists would describe their paintings when they are done.

I immediately liked the atmosphere in there. I could not put my finger on what I particularly liked, though. The smell of paint? the colors flying about freely on the walls? how the artists bite their brushes?
When I looked around, it reminded me of scientific poster presentation that I have been to a lot nowadays. 1.5 m x 1 m posters hanging on the walls, people look around to examine the contents, while the publisher/researcher stand beside his/her poster, ready to answer questions from professors and experts.

Art has never been familiar to me, really. My parents are both environmentalists/ scientists, my friends’ parents (and now my friends) are into business and money, and my closest friends are usually computer or number minded people.

Yet somehow in Japan, while initially intending to train my scientific mind, I ended up hanging out mainly with street musicians, painters, and performers, and apparently this stimulated a small part in this brain that had never been touched before; art.

I was immediately attracted to one very bright painting. very abstract. I went closer and saw what paint the artist was using.

"acrylic" I read the bottle out loud.

The artist looked up to me and smile "Hi. Nihonjin?" (meaning, "are you Japanese?")

I shook my head and said "Indonesian".

He grinned and said "yes. acrylic. it dries very fast. so I must be fast mixing. You like art?"

"I guess so. But I don’t understand it"

"It is not understanding. It is loving. You understand music?" He is acting like a guru now. But I’ve always enjoyed being a student. I sat next to him while he kept mixing green and white, yellow and white, purple and white.

"I guess so. And I understand words. I like writing." I tried to fill him in on my backgrounds.

"Painting is just like that. Because you love it, no? Because you like the rhythm, the words in the song. You love it so you understand it." Now he is painting a woman with golden bright hair.

"I love it so I understand it?"

"Yes. or illusion of understanding it. but it is just the same. So do you paint?" He cleaned his brushes on the white cloth.

"Nothing as emotional like yours. Lately it is good weather, so I would sit outside usually near the river with my boyfriend and we paint what we see in front of us" My eyes followed his hand movement around the paper. "Sort of like a lousy photograph of where we had been hanging out" I added again, "we did watercolors. but I know no technique whatsoever"

"Technique not necessary. Just paint"

"I see. But, isn’t technique important? Sometimes I could see the painting so clear in my head but my technique is so poor that it becomes so different on paper when I am done."

"And you become sad?" he made a sad face.

"Yes. sad" I was amused by his sad face.

"Don’t be sad. It is like planning to have sex with someone and then you end up making love"

"What??" I was shocked but extremely amused.

"Yes. Result is different. You planned to playing sex, but you end up falling love.
Or you plan to love, but end up playing sex.
Different result.
But the feeling is still grreeaatt"

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

Somehow I totally understood his explanation.

My girls and I went to the bar after that but I could not wait to go home to loverville to tell that story to my boyfriend.
I told him about the gorgeous acrylic colors, about the unfamiliar yet so comfortable air that I breathed, about the artist’s view of point about art, techniques and sex, about how I regret that I did not ask the artist’s message of his painting.
As usual, he listens with all his five (or maybe more) senses.
And then he opened a file on his laptop "This painting has a clear message"

"Really?" I thought, the only message I was getting was five naked women in a very bad brothel house?
"You have been watching porn while I went out?" I teased him.
We giggled and he said,
"This is about chinese olympic game. A chinese artist painted it. Look, one American girl, one Russian (on the right), one Chinese (showing her back) and one Japanese (short haired woman on the left). They are playing Mahjong. The small girl standing here is Taiwanese"

"I see. The Taiwanese looks angry at the Chinese. Ready to kill!!" I was very excited with my second art lesson of the day.

"Yeah. And look. They are sort of playing ’strip Mahjong’. America is winning. Russian seems to lose interest on the game. But her right leg is on America, yet left hand is touching the chinese. See?"

"Yeah. The Chinese is loosing, though". I said,

"but she still got her pants. And those three cards, are strong ones in Mahjong. And she might be hiding some cards behind her."

"Hooo…." I stared closer to the screen.

"The Japanese is losing," he continued  "but pretends that she is winning with her happy face"

We giggled at the always-happy-face Japanese.

"Hoo.. this is nice" I was so thrilled. We opened a can of beer. I sat closer to him and said "and look at the weather outside. A storm is about to come. Or it is the bad air of pollution in China"

"Ah, you, environment girl"

We kept discussing and speculating on the painting for another half an hour. When he went back to his assignments, I kept browsing for other abstract paintings. Trying to understand messages of other paintings. But not all of them are as easy to guess as that Olympic painting.

And suddenly, it dawned on me, what I loved about that small painting gallery on top of the crepe cake shop.
Unlike scientific poster presentation,
in the live painting, not one painting is better than the other.
Not one method is better than the other.
Not one man is more expert than the other.
Each of them has a message or a thousandfold of messages.
It could show someone’s whole life. or just one’s state of mind in that 2/3 hours of painting.

There was no right or wrong there. No one could come up to the artist and say " You should improve on this aspect or that aspect"

To do that would just imply that the artist should change who he is, what he was, and what he wants to be.

And also it is impossible to point on what to improve, to point out if the painting is nice or awful. You lose any opinion. Because you can’t put it into words. It stresses me out, because I love words. I believe that what I can not put into words are not real. But I guess I must admit,

words can NOT handle this.

Living with my older brother is one of the most delightful experiences during this 23 years of life.
Well..sure., he does not wash the dishes as often as I would like him to. When we first moved in together, he had divided the tasks:
"ok sis, listen up! we’ll get along fine! You’ll do the washing, cleaning, and cooking. And….me, I’ll wash the car, take out garbage, and I’ll do the gardening".

I agreed.
Forgetting that we don’t have a car. or even a garden.

But seriously, he takes care of the house remarkably fine.

The real delightful experience is, whenever I come home, in whatever mood I am, I’d opened the door, and he’d be watching The Colbert Report, and he’d be laughing like he just smoked a marijuana.
That crazy hyena-like laughter, always light me up.
I could leave my whole day troubles and tiredness on the doorstep next to my shoes, and enter the house with a smile.

Few days ago, I literally rolled on the floor laughing when I caught him reading The Top 11 Things Geeks Do For Spring Break. Ow yes, he is proud of being a geek. And yes dear, you know you are a geek when you are reading what geeks do for spring break.

Which reminds me,
it’s spring!!

The tulip bulb a friend presented on my last birthday is now sprouting. I think I’ll spend this spring watching it grows.
I’ll definitely be hanging out by the Kamo River a lot.
Maybe get to play twister while having barbecues, or even fishing.
Pack the thick jackets in the closet, watch street performers again, explore Japan again, "ooh"-ing and "aaah"-ing at Sakura trees again.

Like my favorite comedian, Ellen Degeneres, said:
" my number 2 favorite "spring-est" thing to do is running through a field of daisies. If you don’t have daisies, daffodil flowers will be okay too. If you live in an urban area, just run through the streets. But do it naked. Trust me, springy!
But the number 1 thing to do in spring,.. is to fall in love.
And if you are not in love, I have some advice for you: lower your standards.
….Just fall in love. It’s easy. It’s in the air.
And,
if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you are with"

*be the love generation*
R.

I still sleep with you every night.
Every night I would close my eyes and pretend I am under you arms like when you were mine.
I must stop this habit one day.

But for this last time, allow me to dream,

about a green hill with fresh smell of grass and the sound of running water everywhere.

I followed the small stream,
and met a girl who sang the blues,

"Could you please sing a happy song?" I asked,
She just turned away and sang the blues again,

"I’ve looked at life from both sides now. From up and down, and still somehow, it’s life’s illusions I recall.
I really don’t know life at all"

I frowned and continued to walk,
and met a boy who carried electric guitar, and sang an angry,rude, punk rock song. Yet he sang it with two bright happy eyes.

"Why are you so happy being angry?" I asked,
He just continued singing,
"I’d rather laugh with the sinners, than cry with the saints…"

I laughed and continued following the river downstream,
and met a young man who played piano and sang a song of regret.

"I understand you" I said slowly.
He smiled but did not stop singing "Are you lonesome tonight? Do you miss me tonight? Are you sorry we drifted apart? Do you gaze at your doorstep, and picture me there? Is your heart filled with pain? Shall I come back again?"

My tears dropped but the birds told me to continue walking,
I then met a man, riding a bicycle round and round, singing about hope.

"When am I a real optimist?" I asked,
He stopped spinning, held my right cheek and sang,
"If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting"

I wiped my tears, he took me behind his bicycles to meet a woman who sang with a strong thunder-like voice.

"How did you become so strong?" I asked,
She held my hands and sang,
"One day I woke up and realized, that I did not have to worry if somebody loves me or not.. To the world I am just one, but to one, I am the world.
My heart has been broken so many times, but Mum said, ‘honey, let them see the brokenness. Let them see the cracks in your armour.
That is how the light gets out‘"

I nodded my head firmly. The stream was getting wider as I walked further down,
and met an old man, his hands shaking from age, singing about the end.

"Am I too young to understand?" I asked,
He closed his eyes and the wind took his words to my ear
"If you aim at nothing, you will keep hitting it. Always dream, but let not the dream be your master. I’ve lived a life that is full. I’ve travelled each and every high way. Yes, there were times, I am sure you knew, when I bit off, more than I could chew. But through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out!"

I shook his hands with respect and hopped my way through, still following the stream.
and met a young man who sang about love.

"How do you know when you really love?" I asked
He kissed my lips and sang,
"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith, with her casual lies. And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child. But she is always a woman to me"

I recognized his eyes and whispered in his ears "you are always a man to me too.."

I arrived to the end of the river, which flowed into a bright blue sea. Sun was going down and the sky was pink.
A young man, holding a traditional Japanese three-string guitar, was sitting on the white sands.

"What is this place?" I asked,
His grin turned into a peaceful smile, and he started to sing,
"In this island, in this sky, I was born. How many things do I know about this island? The stars that come out, the clouds that flow, even if you ask me their names,
I would not know the answer……"
he stopped for a second to see my reaction. I decided to smile.
"….but I do feel this island more than anyone. In tears and in laugh, every single time I’d look up to the sky …, and more than you can find written in any textbooks, you will find a treasure surely hidden in here, and that treasure belongs to all of us, the islanders".

I still sleep with you every night.
Every night I would close my eyes and pretend I am under you arms like when you were mine.

Why must I stop this habit, when it has always given me such beautiful dreams?

—

**Written with compilations of lyrics, poetries and quotes by Joni Mitchell, Billy Joel, Elvis Presley, Rudyard Kippling, Frank Sinatra, Wynonna Judd, Begin. Inspired by you.

He gave her a sharp look of judging and patronizing eyes
"How come love is such an easy thing to you?"
He did not give her time to answer "I mean, you can just blurt it out, do you? I am not talking about love to your parents, to your friends.not that. you know, LOVE!! Still, it’s amazing how easy for you to say it! to move on to the next one! or even to love two people at the same time! or even five, maybe! I am not like you. For me, there is only one kind of love!"

She put on her coat.

"where are you going? answer me! usually, you love talking" he tried to stop her by adding another insult.

She cursed silently but made sure she slammed the door hard enough.

She walked home, not crying, not angry,
but smiling
because his words only made her remember her kinds of love.

She had experienced a love that started from pure naivety of 14 year old couples, which turned into a neurotic relationship, a love that was an escape, a love that riped their body and trashed their naivety away, a painful hateful breakup, a love where it was not too late even when the "thank you" and "sorry" words only emerged 5 years after.

She had fallen for a love that started from a betrayal, a love that was so cool, so calm, love that was doubted by everyone else but by the two persons involved. A love with a deep breath to let go, to spread their wings and seek more than a highschool love.

She was blessed with a love that started from a friendship. A love full of compassion and support, and flooded with safe feelings under her partner’s armpit.  That love was sprinkled with infidelities, forgiveness and bitter lessons. A love where they fight like tigers and then make up like rabbits. Where it felt unbreakable and they were a team.

She had also tried a love which started from cultural curiosity, jammed with differences, yet excelled their maturity. Where the man always hold the doors and they would learn each other’s languages and dance waltzes under the snow.

One too many times she experienced a love that started from lust, full fatal attraction, which turned into a fulltime job to turn it into something more meaningful. A fun love. A show of titanic and love boat at the same time. A love with no definite start and end.

She bravely started love from desperation, a love just to get through the winter. It was a love masked with fears of the future and regrets of the past. Sometimes tortured by the feelings of being used, sometimes brought to heaven by bedtime stories of childhood and dreams. A love that they strongly held on while knowing certainly there would be no future.

She sent him a text message
"You are right. There are too many kinds of love for me to explain to you. But don’t you dare saying that it is easy for me. I am so sorry for you that you only know one kind of love. Call me when you are ready for me to show you the other many kinds of love i know"

He called back 5 minutes later.

I complained to everyone that this year I had no Christmas spirit at all,
I blamed Japan for making Christmas so artificial and commercial
I compared everything to how ‘better’ the Christmases in Europe and Indonesia were.
I nagged about having a class on a Christmas day
I opened news and held an embarrassing breath reading that a landslide had killed 80 people, floods and more floods, photos of 3 years tsunami commemoration and finally I shut the computer down after news of Bhutto’s assassination came out;
and opened my textbook again.

I guess I can stop complaining now. My Christmas was better than I deserved.

* be the love generation.

hey girl,

i hope you have arrived safely and now baking Christmas cookies with your mum.
Send my best to your parents, anyway…
Also, could you please come back here?
Because spending this holiday without you is going to suck..

I know you are only leaving for few weeks,
but I am already missing our lunch breaks,
our small escapes from the lab to hang out by the river and watch the red leaves.

girl,
i could not tell anyone about how he asked to meet me at 11 last night,
by my favorite bench.
about how i tried not to laugh seeing him in such a romantic mood..
you get it don’t you? you know he is not normally that type…
about how the moon was not full and the stars were barely seen,
about how we just sat there, talking and laughing,
until the temperature suddenly dropped,
and we hugged with our thick coats on,
i could not tell anyone about how we look into each others eyes
with those three words unspoken.
and about how he laid like a child in my arms,

we did not discuss what we are and where we are going.
only you could i understand why i did not talk about it, right?
girl, i miss talking to you about these things, you are the only one i know that could appreciate a pointless romance.
who told me that collecting moments is more beautiful than sweet promises of the future.

and yes, maybe it was just last night.
but at least, last night he was mine completely.

i got another moment, girl! yippee…..be happy for me ?
and i got the feeling that nothing and no one can erase this wide smile from my face.
at least not today.

come back quick!
take care and miss you…

Currently, my study is supported by scholarship from a generous Japanese company, but this scholarship will end next April and from there onward, without more scholarship, my parents would be up to their necks, trying to support me and my brother.

So for weeks i have been applying, preparing, interviewing for next year’s scholarship. Yesterday, I got the news that I failed the government’s scholarship (monbukagakusho), the best scholarship option in Japan. Of course I smiled to my secretary when she gave me that news and I only said "ah zannen, daijobu, mo ikkai ganbarimasu"
("ah it is a pity, but it is okay, I will do my best again for the next time"). 

She still eagerly helping me finding new scholarship information that I just could not show her my disappointment and that I was tired of all those applications.

I went home and told my brother, he could see me holding a map of new applications with dropped shoulders and he gave me a hug. A friend (you know who you are) reached out and pulled me up by saying

“you have come a long way, don’t you dare giving up now!!!”

I could’ve cried but I decided to watch some stand-up comedies on youtube. Hahaha.

So, anyway, I came across Bill Cosby’s old shows; he told a funny story about the birth of his first child,
and the part that ‘hit’ me was when he said he asked to God for standard things for the baby, such as "the gender of the baby or anything else is not important, just health, please"

the punch line was when he regretted that he did not ask for more because the baby was extremely ugly. As in his words when he held the baby for the first time:

“Honey, I think we got a lizard”

Anyhow, my point is that I realize I also don’t dare to ask a lot from God.

Don’t worry; I am not preaching here. You all know I am far from what you call ‘a good catholic’. I do not take religion and the rules seriously. Some surely think I am a hypocrite for partying until morning on Saturday nights and then go straight to church on Sunday afternoon. (Sometimes still with a hangover). I pray and go to church just because that is what I am familiar with since I was small, just because church is home, church is my grandmother.

I do not believe in the term ‘religion’, but I do believe in the higher power; that if you do good deeds, you will get that in return; that the ‘rule of love’ is above all those complicated rules.

But I forgot that God is a generous God, and that when we ask we shall be given.

I don’t know how you guys pray. But my favorite way of asking something from Him (or Her) is by saying

“please just give whatever You think is the best for me”.

In Indonesian term: ‘pasrah’.

Reason being, so many things I saw as a ‘disaster’ in the beginning, turned out to be a part of a beautiful set of plan for us.

But maybe next time, I need to be more specific of what I am asking for.

Because those ‘pasrah’ words also represent my doubts, they represent the feeling that I do not deserve what I truly want.

And damn it, I deserve a scholarship.

Fiuhh, glad I let that out of my chest.

Speaking of God and religion, in Japan I am surrounded with people without religion.

Worse, they are scientists.

One Friday night, accompanied with shots of Whiskey, we talked about it

(see how busy I am??).

Out of 5 people in the room, I am the only one “holding” a religion. They were asking questions about religion and explained that they believe in science, and in themselves. They explained that sometimes they want to have a belief, but it is difficult for them to just start believing in God, or Muhammad, or Buddha, or whatever, when you do not know the teaching and not used to the ways.

I said what I truly trust:

“Ah, WE invented religion, not God. Don’t worry; you do not need religion to believe in something. Anyway, there is a saying that God is Science. So when you are curious about how nature works, maybe you are actually looking for God”

But one guy replied,

“You know, it is easy to say that when we are in happy mood, when we get successful days. But, when things get difficult, and you know you can not do anything about it. You’d wish you had believed in something else other than yourself. You’d wish you had something to hold on to.”

That was a statement I have never heard nor considered before. And I had no reply.

We just took another shot of whiskey. Ha!

Maybe, the next time I meet him, I’ll tell him to “just ask”. If he has a need yet he is not ready to define who his God is, just ask to the universe.

To the trees, or

to the sky, or

to the stars, or maybe

to a birthday candle, or even

to Santa Clause statues in the malls.

We should just ask.

Certainly, the list of best love poems & quotes should start with Khalil Gibran’s poem:

Love One Another

Love one another, but make not a bond of love
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous,
but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone
though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping,
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together,
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Let These be Your Desires

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.
----
What is the world of literature without Shakespeare?
Here is the poem which is quoted so many times quoted in movies,
when Gibran’s poems of love are more often directed to ‘how to love’,
Shakespeare more than often talks about the loyalty of love
between two souls. 

A trait I long to master.

Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
---

The next one is Love’s Philosopy by P.Shelley.
Remember that by nature, by whatever greater power you believe,
 everything seen and unseen came in a pair.

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;

The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine
In another's being mingle--

Why not I with thine?

See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;

No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;--

What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me?

To my future new boyfriend

I am going to say ‘I love you too’ soon.

And I am going to say ‘yes’ for your request to a relationship.

But here goes my rules:

Let me have my girlsnights simply because they have kept me strong all this time, way before you came to my life.

Let us (the girls) kiss each other because they taught me the way to kiss that you like so much. When we do it in front of you, do not frown, just laugh with us.

When I accidentally kiss another guy, forgive me.

Let me cook, clean and shop for you. That is my way to differentiate you from other guys that I accidentally kiss.

Let me bring you drinks at your soccer games. If you feel ashamed in front of your friends, you don’t need to kiss me. Just touch my cheek when you say thanks.

Let me have my midnight snacks and don’t worry about my weight. I am exercising when you are not watching.

When I bring my laptop to your place that means two things: I need to do some work yet I need to be near you. Let me put on my earphone, listen to music, work and let me crawl over to your side of the table and kiss you from time to time.

Let me dance.

Help me to stop the disgusting habit of mine, but understand and join me when I say I really need it.

Let me ask you questions about your job and teach me things that you see and learn, because I admire and respect what you do and aspire to do the same.

I do not know how healthy our relationship will be. Because I can already see the end even before we begin, and that scares me. But the truth is, since you have been gone, time has been crawling too slowly. I almost forgot how beautifully torturing being in love can be. You are right; sometimes pain is the only way to know that we are alive. And it is amazing how alive I feel now to be in love again.

So, to my future new boyfriend,

Let me love you.

See my smile and think ‘cute’

See my body and think ‘not bad’

Listen to what I do and think ‘smart’

As the night is fading

See my eyes change.

Think ‘naughty’

As the music is harder

See my moves

See me kissing you

And then the other guy on the next table

You don’t know what to think anymore

Are you disappointed now?

Listen to a story

“It was a Friday night after a super fun karaoke. We ended up in our favorite rock bar. Everyone around me was kissing. I walked to the next table. He said to his friend “kita, kita” (i.e she came, she came). He thought I did not understand but I loved knowing that they had been talking about me. So I talked to his friends but my eyes were fixed on him. I had made my decision that out of three of them, he was the one I want to kiss that night. And I love testing myself. Okay, then, I asked for his cigarettes, he handed me one, lit it for me, and even gave me his glass of beer. He started kissing my hand and his friend laughed and moved away. I sat next to him and we kissed without saying many before that. He cycled me home but we did not go far. The next morning I told him I have to go somewhere early and showed him where to take the bus home. It was not until hours after, that I realized; damn.., he was super handsome. The V shaped body, strong arms and cute smile…”

Listen to another story.

“It was a Friday night after a super fun karaoke. We ended up in our favorite rock bar. Everyone around me was kissing. I walked to the next table. He said to his friend “kita, kita” (i.e she came, she came). He had black painter’s hat, black shirt and silver necklace. His smile was amazing. We ended up kissing but he also continued taking care of his friend who was too drunk to be in the bar. Finally he left earlier. I missed him a bit but had no trouble chatting around with other friends too. We went to eat ramen believing that the grease will absorb the alcohol in our blood. And…guess who came back? He came back, ate half of my ramen but paid for the full portion, and cycled me home. I told him it’s too far to cycle, but he insisted. He also said we don’t need to do anything that I don’t feel like doing. I said thanks. He needed the air conditioner but I was freezing. He wrapped his body around me and we fell asleep. The next day I kissed him good morning and we walked to the bus station talking about school, job and sports. We gave one last grateful smile and waved goodbye..”

Yet when I tell only one, you’ll judge differently.

Listen carefully to the unsaid things before you think you are better.

*be the love generation..*