Streams of Life (11)

Streams of Life (11)

At the dead of night my friend held me tight in the cover, which I pretended to

be dopey and not to care at all. But actually I felt so awful. It was the first

time we had to part from each other ever since Spring Festival. I once told him

that I wouldn’t ever let him stay alone in this city, and he said the same. But for one reason or another, he was delayed in the faraway city nevertheless.

All just seemed random when he told me at noon that he couldn’t possibly come back. I thought it was okay, and breaking away from him sometime would possibly be good to both of us. After all we had stayed together for a while. Meeting up again after parting is extraordinarily sweet, a voice breezed along somewhere inside me.

But is it really? My parents called me early in the afternoon, and until now I haven’t called them back yet. I don’t know what to say on the phone. I can’t stand lying to them so as to relieve their worrying about me. I can’t tell them

the truth without sounding crestfallen. How I wish that my friend could be my side! He maybe couldn’t make things easier, but he would surely soothe my apprehension to a large degree.

Once I told him that even we were not in a relationship, I owned that we could still be good friends, confiding in each other on a lot of things. To this he agreed. Last time I said in one article that it was because of him that I couldn’t

get along with my family, but later as I thought it over, I came to realize how

unfair it was to him if I really meant that. With or without him, I would have

made the same decision. It was just a matter of time.

In the life you come across people all the time, some will stay, most choose to

leave eventually. I don’t know how long my friend and I will stay together. Since life itself is pretty random--like an offhand performance, whoever but air-head will expect or beg for a promise? So I am already content enough now. I am content that when this massive city wakes up in the morning, and when the sunrays

come through the beige curtain to our room and wake me up, I have always my friend at my side and hold me in his arms whenever it is needed.

And I am content that whenever I felt crestfallen it’s he who was always there,

giving me strength and mental support to strive forward. My heart leaps up when

I behold/ A rainbow in the sky. Time and time again I read in my mind the catching lines by W. Wordsworth, and I guess that’s possibly nearest to the feeling

that my friend sometimes brings me--fill my heart with thrill, and awe for the life itself, which hereafter I should never ever try to spoil...