For three years, I shamelessly followed the Tibetan Buddhist lama, becoming the only joke on the grasslands. Then, right in front of me, someone mocked me in Tibetan: “The lama doesn't care about Gu Ruofei at all. He's going to leave the clergy and marry Meiduo!” “I've never seen anyone so shameless. She clings to someone else's fiancé like a plaster.” My heart trembled, aching with bitterness. They didn't know that after three years working in Tibet, I had learned to understand Tibetan. Without showing a thing, I went back to my lodgings and wrote my love for him on one prayer flag after another, letting the wind carry it away across this land. Then I called my mother.
“Mom, please send someone else to take over.”
“I want to come home.”
For three years, I gave loving him everything I had. I don't regret it, but I've decided to let go.
