He was sitting with his friend in a quiet corner of the dining hall. One of the staff entered, leading a small group of people. She was with them. He hadn’t expected that.
A deep sadness began to well up within him. She saw him, smiled and waved quickly, before going to the other end of the hall with the rest of the new staff. He waved back, mask on to hide his wound. Under his guise even his friend next to him could not see it. They continued their conversation as the well of sadness continued to rise. His mask slowly began to crack.
His friend noticed the change of mood and implored. He gave in, his emotions gradually seeping out.
“This isn’t right. She deserves more than this.” He said it quietly, almost to himself.
With a baleful eye he watched as she put on an apron handed out by the senior staff.
His friend did not know her well enough to have heard her story. He explained under gentle interrogation what the other needed to know. After some minutes he could see that he comprehended his plight.
Anne was remarkably intelligent even among the university students, a fact that both of them noticed when they each met her. While not physically stunning, she had an aura of quiet strength, built up gradually by years of enduring hardship. By a cruel twist of fate, she had failed her examinations when others less intelligent had passed, and thus had to remain in university while he returned home. With little money left in her account, she had decided to seek work, and now here she was, in the same hall he and other students had paid thousands to live in.
And there he was, powerless to help her despite the endless good fortune he reaped. He felt guilty. He played with his food and waited for a chance to speak with her.
Some minutes later, the senior staff member was called away – he had his chance. He walked over. For an instant, her smile reached across the chasm and gave him a jolt of warmth.
He greeted her, somewhat stiffly from behind the mask. She returned the greeting with warmth. Somehow he knew she sensed his discomfort.
“Hey, can you skive off a few minutes? I’m in the hall for another hour,” he said.
“I can’t I’m afraid, this is my first day at work so I can’t afford to slip up.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a ring later then. We might be able to meet in the next few days.”
"Will do.”
Their short conversation came to a halt as the staff member returned.
“Better leave you to it then,” he said as they exchanged smiles again. He moved off as the staff member began giving assignments to the new arrivals.
In his room, the terrible sadness descended upon him again. Though they might cross the mental gulf occasionally, and perhaps even bridge it for a time, it always threatened their tenuous connection.
Frustration at their circumstances took him, then anger. He quelled them both quickly – there was no use being angry – but the deep sense of loss continued. He wanted to reach out and hug her, to shelter her from the storm with his own body.
He looked out of his window at the sky and saw – as one instantly sees everything when lightning flashes across the night sky – that the battle was hers to fight, and that what she needed was a good friend, not a lover. The best thing he could do for her was to be that good friend.
He would lose a limb if it would have helped her, but what he needed to do was far more difficult. It would be one of the hardest decisions of his life, and he knew he would wonder about that choice in the future.
For her, and only her, he would do it anyway. He would stay on the other side of the gulf he placed between them. Such was his love.
5 comments:
Teik:
Love is not about feeling guilty afterwards; And one cannot clap with only one hand. It is chemical.
She does not seek help from others when she is in hardship, nor does she expects someone to lend a hand. She is intelligent, brave, and strong. These are what drove his affection towards her. It is one of life's challenges, somewhat inevitable, as a student she must go through.
Time will tell and people shall see as the days move on, whether or not the gulf will be bridged depends on how well the two sides fare by supporting each other.
Come on lah, relationship starts by being friends first! It will be different if the story was written from the "she" point of view. He only saw her mask, but beneath her mask, there is another world. Could be sunny, could be cloudy, or could be spring!
Agreed, this is only told from one point of view, it doesn't shed too much light on the other characters. I'll add more stories in this series, from her point of view if I can get into her head.
Dude, the writer sounds troubled. You think he's not in this?
I know very well he's in this, but rest assured he is not too messed up. I'm going to post one more in the coming week or so, but it's going to be from his point of view aagain - it's really difficult for me to try and flesh out the lady's character.
Ever plan on making case studies of people's relationships?
But that be poking our noses in where it doesn't belong!
Well, people do tell stuff when they're....
That's because they trusted you to keep your mouth shut. Would you betray that trust?
.... Maybe?
You wouldn't dare....
Then what about when you tell those stuff to others? Hmmm? What say you about that?
Merely seeking opinion because you know I can't really deal with that stuff alone.
Excuses to justify yourself...
And what excuses can you come up with?
I don't need to, because you've done what I wanted to, and you've already justified our actions.
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