My way

Author: Jide
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-06-01
Features: Cacti may have thorns on the outside, but their interiors are still soft and juicy. She and he were neighbors who grew up together since childhood, now at the age where they should hold hands and enjoy the beauty of life. They were as perfect as prince and princess in a fairy tale. They had grown up together, knew each other well, and knew even better how to hurt each other. They always did things that hurt each other, as if it were a painful yet joyful game between them. In elementary school, he kissed a girl in front of her, and she watched his smug expression, wanting to cry but instead turned away, holding another boy's hand. This bad habit continued as they grew older, hurting each other and those around them. They loved each other. But they were both cacti, always using their thorns to hurt each other; only they themselves understood this as a way to express love. In their minds, they were clear that they belonged to each other. But as they grew older, this bad habit kept causing trouble for them and those around them. The girl he had kissed in elementary school became his classmate from then on, all the way to college—she liked him, but she also became a sacrifice in their love story. Let's call her "Passerby A." He would deliberately get into arguments with her while flirting with "Passerby A." In short, these two childhood rivals were so frustrating to watch. They could point fingers at each other in public, completely indifferent to bystanders' gazes, yet they couldn’t quietly confess their feelings to each other. But they couldn’t keep doing this forever. Although he still fought with her, he gradually grew sadder due to her hurt. On his 20th birthday, he finally realized that happiness had to be fought for. He spent a long time practicing in front of the mirror, then knocked on her door, speaking in a rare, gentle tone: "Tonight, I hope you can come to my birthday party." Then, bowing his head, he grabbed her hand and said, "Tonight, I’m going to tell everyone who is the most important person to me." She blushed too. Her heart pounded. She leaned on the windowsill, laughing to herself alone, watching her friends arrive one by one at their house—then suddenly, she saw "Passerby A" walking over with a huge cake. She immediately felt like an idiot. They had fought like this for over a decade; how could she still be happy about his pranks? Based on her experience, he would surely announce "Passerby A" as the most important person to him, then smile smugly at her. She immediately called a phone: "You said you hoped I would be your girlfriend, right? I’ve thought it over, and I’m willing." Soon, a boy arrived, let’s call him "Passerby B." When all the guests had arrived, she appeared at the door, holding "Passerby B’s" arm. She told him that "Passerby B" was her boyfriend and leaned her head on his shoulder. This time was different from any other. Someone full of expectations was always more fragile. He was hurt by her triumphant smile more than ever before. He too grabbed "Passerby A’s" hand.