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When I was a young girl, I deeply believed that romance was a large and heavy basket, full of pink flowers, red roses, a big diamond ring, and many many expensive gifts. The basket must be very large, and heavy that my heart can’t help, but melt down. My Prince Charming will hold my hand and walk me to the wedding ceremony. And then we can live happy every after.
But in reality, when I felt in love with a young guy in college, things were much simple. We went to library together, we went to movie together, we played badminton together, and our lives didn’t change much. But I did taste the sweetness of romance. For me, romance was pink.
After graduation, I got a very good job offer in a company in my hometown, a city 400 kilometers away from our school. My boy friend was sad, but my parents are happy. “We finally have you home; you can have an easy life in our city.” That’s true, my job was better paid, and I was back to my old friends. I had an easy life style in my hometown.
My boy friend did not give up our love. He started to visit me bi-weekly or monthly depending on his schedule. To save both time and money, he took the night train. On 10 pm, he took the train and arrived at my city at 6 am. My neighbours still remembered that a tall and handsome guy with a small luggage and a bunch of flowers knocking at my door. On Sunday afternoon, 5 pm, he would take another train back to his hometown. We also called each other after 9 pm every night, because the longer distance call is half priced after 9 o’clock between cities. Two years past, I thought my romance was unique; it was a combination of bitterness and sweetness, like chocolate. But my mom started to worry about me. She said: “he is a really good guy, but stay with us; you’ll have a better future.” But my boy friend said, let’s go to Canada, we can have a better future together. I said “Yes!” we wanted to be together; we wanted to have a future together!
After two more years, we landed on Pearson Airport. As new immigrants, our lives had totally changed! For a better future, we decided to go back to school. I studied for my specialized honoured degree, and my husband applied Master degree in computer science. When the day his offer came, we both became silent, because the city he would go is 400 kilometers away from Toronto. Where is my romance basket, I don’t like it any more! My hubby, one of the most positive guys in the world, said, “This is the last time!”
We were both at school, he came back biweekly or monthly, and we chatted on Yahoo messenger daily. All the summer time was our Valentine ’s Day! After graduation, we both got professional jobs and started to save money. On the seventh year of immigration, we had our dreaming house together; we then had two beautiful and smart kids together; we had our home in Toronto together!
This summer, my parents come to visit us; my big family went to the Erin dale Park for a picnic. The weather was beautiful, full of sunshine. My hubby was playing ball with my daughter, and she made all those happy giggling. Finally I saw the big smile on my parents’ face. The happy family picture, which could happen easily in my hometown, took us 10 years to realize in Toronto! Touching my son’s hair, I suddenly remembered my romance basket. I believed my romance is a perfect 10 : I got all those pink flowers, red roses, a big diamond ring, and I finally understand those expensive gifts, they are self-discipline, they are persistence, they are responsibilities, they are promise, they are hard-work and they are respect. And my romance basket is large and heavy, because my heart can never expect a second romance for the rest of life.
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