That year, I made a decision: I would die when I turned twenty-five. It was a conclusion I reached after careful consideration. There wasn't any particular reason. I simply didn't like this world. Why twenty-five? I don't know either. Maybe I thought dying right away would be too rushed and reckless. It would be such a shame to die in my teens, when I was still a blooming young flower, just a little bud of the motherland.
Me at twenty-five: If you'd shown up a few minutes later, you'd be seeing a ghost right now!
Okay, fine. The truth is, I'm starved for affection and want a really, really long relationship, preferably the kind where I'm the only one for you!
The first time I met him was on a plane. I thought, This guy is so skinny and frail. I could take on ten of him.
The second time I met him was in bed. What the hell? I'm done for! Hey, let's talk this out. Don't hit me!
The third time we met, he was sitting in a wheelchair with a cast on his leg. "We've slept together and fought, so take responsibility!"
"???"
One looks delicate but is actually strong, and has been pretending to be weak all along.
The other wraps himself in layer upon layer of coldness, but shows his truest self only to him.
This is a sweet story about two people warming each other.
Theme: If you like someone, you should be together. ^_^
