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The thrill of un-romance
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Li Dan
E-MAIL was still unknown when this story happened. A very sensitive and romantic boy in our department cherished a secret love for a girl who majored in Chinese literature. His passions lasted three years before he plucked up the courage to write her a touching love letter that cost him several sleepless nights and many discarded drafts.
On a sunny day in autumn, the boy dropped the letter in the mailbox and left with rosy hopes.
One month passed without any response from his beloved, then another month, and still another slipped away. Torn between hope and despair, the boy waited day after day. Finally, he plucked up his courage a second time and invited the girl to a walk by the frozen Nameless Lake. To his surprise, the girl agreed to come.
Then the boy could ask her feelings about his love letter. "Yeah, I've read it," the girl said. "Very well written."
"I want to take care of you in the days to come," the romantic boy bubbled shyly.
"But I think we'd better just be friends," the girl answered.
Disillusioned, the boy stuttered, "Then I want my letter back, for never again can I write such a moving letter."
The boy didn't get his letter back, and the girl didn't become his girlfriend. The most unromantic element of the story came later from another friend, who commented: The girl could have photocopied the letter and sent back the manuscript if she really wanted to keep it!
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