High Speed
I was once dating a girl
named Clara. She was a lovely young woman with all kinds of sweet dispositions.
She had this bob-styled short black hair with undeniably cute fringe which made
her face somewhat looked even more rounded and angelic. At first, I was not
fully aware of her existence since she was that out-of-my-league kind of
girl. To be perfectly honest, as a scholar, I was neither interested in hanging
out with any girl nor boy since I had to sincerely focus with my study.
However, Clara was either the first thing I remember in the morning or the very
last thing I remember before going to bed. So, before I ended up murmuring her
name constantly in the nearest mental hospital, I decided to ask her out.
Things
were going well, but there was one thing I could not stand about her: she was
extremely unpunctual. As someone who always shows up early in every occasion, I
could not bear the pain waiting for her who invariably showed up after at least
30 minutes late in every date we had. On the forth date, I even bought her a
watch, despite the fact that she had already worn one on her left wrist. Well, I
believed she was an intelligent lady and had guessed my intention about warning
her not to be late again. Nonetheless, she happened to take it as an insult. We
then fought horribly, and I said that she was a graceless creature who never
appreciated time as much as I do. Two days later, I was about to attend a
seminar on campus, and she texted me that she was going to be there as well.
She wanted to make a deal with me. The deal was if she could manage to arrive
on time to that seminar, then I had to take my words back. As I expected
nothing bad would happen, I doubtlessly agreed. Yet, I expected that she would
be late as usual. I had already portrayed in my head the scenario of her asking
for apology with her goddess-like face, but she never showed up. It turned out
that I was the one who never appreciated my time with her.
0 comments:
Post a Comment