At this time, I kinda understand the meaning of love. It doesn’t like what I used to think it to be. Back to the time when I still was in high school, love was something that so fascinating; that you had to show off in front of him/her, and you felt shy and couldn’t find a word to talk to her. That was just a crushing feeling you had for a period of your life. No matter what, it still  was a wonderful time in one’s life, but it wasn’t love.

About a week ago, I talked to some of my friends – most are married, and they shared with me how they think about love. The common conclusion was that love is the secured feeling they found in their wife/ husband. They feel at ease every time they see each other; they accept the imperfect of each other, and the most important thing is they trust their companion (for life, of course).

Suddenly, a thought re-appears in my mind; a situation in which I have to choose between my life and my lover’s. It ’s really so hard (especially for me, the one who is unwilling to die in any circumstances). Maybe it dues to the fact that I’ve never truthfully loved anyone. It’s sad! That’s very sad!

That was just a short conversation, but I learned quite much…