I’ve been thinking about going home, to give this a shot. I know it sounds very dramatic, but somewhere between December when we randomly met and February when I went home twice, and through the million messages we have exchanged, I realized I really quite like this guy. And we’re not even together, which makes things sound even odder.
He is unlikely to give me a lifetime of riches, or poetry, wine and adventures. But maybe I’m sick of that now; maybe I’m ready to want someone who would share life with me, take care of me, fight with me, read me, tease me, be my best friend. All the non-exciting aspects of love no one talks about, yet precisely what’s important, and what I have been void of. I’ve had all the bells, whistles and tinsels, but no Christmas tree. And now that I’ve been offered a glimpse of a Christmas tree, it’s putting me into a tizzy.
Love vs career? The world, as I know it, is overwhelmingly in favor of the latter. Everyone tells me I should just focus on my career first, and figure out the rest later. On some level, it makes sense. Love does not pay the rent nor the bills; and if I stay on here long enough, the payoffs would be generous. But what if I end up with that and nothing else? Despite being in where everyone tells me is a good place, I haven’t quite lost my appetite for life, nor the guts to pursue what I think will make me happier.
Those who know me tell me this is just another manifestation of my unsettled ways and I should just ignore it. Those who know me better tell me the likelihood of me losing interest in the guy is not exactly zero. I know, I know, I do have quite a patchy record.
But to those who advised me to ‘just find another guy in HK’, I wish you would kick your own ass first, then go find some space and time for romance in your life.
Love is not going to a supermarket, and finding suitable for what you’re planning to cook for dinner. Love is not supposed to be convenient, or a way to spend all those after-work hours that you feel lonely in. And I do not go around looking for love, as a matter of practice. Looking for love is like visiting a fortune teller, everything becomes self-fulfilling. Finding love does not work; the best ones fall out right from the sky.