The story is translated from my Chinese piece below.
1
I don’t know why I fell in love with him. He was ten years older than me, didn’t have much money, wore a pair of black-framed glasses, and was always dressed in a white shirt and khaki pants, walking around with retro-style headphones on, immersed in his own world.He worked in our school library and would go home to read or listen to music after work. He liked jazz and classical music and sometimes played the guitar or piano.He also loved cats and had three of them named Inky, Ivory, and Spotty.
I was one of his school students. I wasn’t a top student and didn’t like to socialize with my classmates. I felt out of place in this world, like being trapped in a dream that I couldn’t wake up from. I just wanted to find someone who could make me feel real and warm.
One afternoon after school, I went to the library to find the teacher’s assigned reading material. As it was close to the end of the day, there were no other students in the library. His office door was not closed properly, and soft music could be heard inside. I pushed open the door and walked in, seeing him sitting at his desk with a book in his hand. A radio was playing a program from a certain station on the desk.
2
“Hey, Paul, what are you busy with?” I asked.
“Oh, hello there.” He looked up at me. “Nothing much, just reading.”
“What book are you reading?”
“This novel is called 《Lost in the Starry Sky.》" He handed me the book. “It’s a story about space travel and love.” The cover looked a bit like Van Gogh’s painting “Starry Night,” with yellow dots scattered among the deep blue pattern.
“Sounds interesting,” I said, taking the book and flipping through it. “Do you like this type of novel?”
“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Actually, I’m interested in any type of novel, as long as it’s well-written.”
“Do you think this novel is well-written?”
“It’s not bad,” he shrugged. “The author writes some parts very delicately and touchingly, but other parts are vague and hard to understand.”
“Which parts?”
“For example…” he pointed to a certain paragraph in the book. “Here, the author describes the protagonist meeting a mysterious woman at the space station. She says she’s from another time and space, and she can show him anything he wants to see.” He said, “This setting is interesting, but the author doesn’t explain how she does it, or explain her purpose and identity.”
“Who do you think she is?”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Maybe she’s an alien, maybe it’s an illusion, maybe she’s an angel.”
“Don’t you think that’s more interesting?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “But sometimes I also want to know the truth.”
“What is the truth?”
“The truth is…” he paused for a moment. “It’s the thing you most desire in your heart.”
“What is the thing you most desire in your heart?”After I asked this question, I suddenly felt my face flush. I didn’t know why I had asked such a direct question, and I didn’t know how he would answer.
He looked into my eyes and didn’t speak. I felt as if time had stopped, leaving only the two of us and the sound of Chet Baker’s saxophone.
Then, he did something that surprised me.He placed the book on the table, stood up, walked over to me, and gently placed his hand on my cheek.“You are my truth,” he whispered.
I didn’t know what to say or how to respond, although I was pleased, in a way. I didn’t move. Time seemed to stand still for a very long time.
What’s wrong?” he asked, looking concerned.“Nothing,” I replied quickly, feeling embarrassed that I had been caught staring at him. “I should probably go. Thanks for the book recommendation.”
“No problem. Feel free to stop by anytime,” he said with a smile.
3
As I walked out of the library, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. I knew that I had developed feelings for him, even though I couldn’t explain why. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, and he didn’t have much money, but there was something about him that made me feel comfortable and safe.
Over the next few weeks, I visited the library more frequently than I ever had before. I would spend hours there, reading books and pretending to study, but mostly just hoping that I would run into him. When we did cross paths, we would talk for hours about everything from literature to music to our shared love of cats.
One day, he asked me if I wanted to join him for a cup of coffee after his shift at the library. I eagerly accepted, my heart beating faster than ever before. As we sat in a small coffee shop down the street from the library, we talked and laughed and shared stories. I felt like I was in a dream, and I didn’t want it to end.
That day marked the beginning of a beautiful relationship. We started dating and spending all of our free time together. He showed me new music and introduced me to his favorite books. We went on walks and talked about our hopes and dreams. And through it all, I knew that I had found the person who made me feel truly alive.
Looking back, I still don’t know why I fell in love with him. But I’m grateful that I did because he changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. And even though we’ve been together for years now, I still feel that same spark of love and admiration every time I see him in his black-rimmed glasses and vintage headphones, lost in his own world.In the following years, we went through a lot.
A simple wedding, moving house frequently.
There were happy moments, and painful ones; ordinary days and thrilling adventures.
But no matter what happened, we never gave up on each other.
Until that day…That morning, when I got up, I found he wasn’t in bed. I thought he went to the kitchen to make breakfast. I got dressed and walked out of the room, ready to find him. But when I walked into the living room, I saw a scene that broke my heart.
He was lying on the couch, with a pale face and blood at the corner of his mouth. There was a note on the table next to him that read: “I’m sorry. I love you.”
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it was true. I ran over and touched his hand. His hand was cold and weak.
“Paul! Paul!” I shouted. “What happened? Don’t scare me!”No answer. Just silence.
Later, the doctor told me he had a rare brain tumor that could occur at any moment. He knew his condition a long time ago but never told anyone.
He didn’t want to worry me or burden me. He just wanted to live happily with me until the very end.
That’s the end of the story.
4
Or rather, the end of my story.
Because after that, my life lost its meaning and color. Every day felt like repeating the same dream and nightmare. It felt like waiting for a miracle or disaster. It felt like searching for truth or illusion.
Until that day…That night, while reading at home, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest, as if something was tearing apart my heart. I collapsed on the couch, unable to breathe or move. I knew it was a sign of death. I knew it was fate’s arrangement. I wasn’t afraid or regretful. I just wanted to see him one more time.
So, I closed my eyes and prayed.“Paul, where are you?”No answer. Just darkness.
Then, I saw a light. A gentle light, piercing through the darkness, illuminating before me. It was his face. His smile. He stood there, reaching out his hand to me.
“Hello,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
“Paul…” I cried. “Are you really here?”
“Yes,” he said. “This is my truth.”
“Then… is this my truth?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or rather, this is our truth.”
“So… where are we?”“Here…” he smiled. “Under the starry sky. We were lost once, but now we are together again!”
The story is translated from my original Chinese piece. I made some minor changes to the English version. See if you can spot them. 😉
