If There is A Tomorrow

***

​Looking through a collection of poetry authored in the name of my best friend, I felt shaken as I turned over some pages. I decided to buy it, then leaving the bookstore instead of buying more materials as I had intended before coming in.

Long ago, I was afraid that my wife could misunderstand about the relationship between Phuong and me, and I didn’t want to hurt both of them, so I was silent apart from her. We’ve been out of touch for over ten years. I felt moved while seeing my dear friend’s name on the collection.  

​Phuong had the right temperament. Her feelings were spoken out straight. She always adored me as if I were her best “girl” friend. Sometimes I wondered if she loved me, just a little. But I put that thought aside immediately, for I fully understood her.

Over ten years had passed. No sooner had I read the book than I realized why she never showed her love to me, and how much Phuong has suffered. She tried to hide her feelings, and only showed them through her book. No one except me could know who she is. I blamed myself for my indifference to her in those days.

​Every time I had been bothered by my colleagues or my wife, she was always the one in whom I could confide. She could share my troubles as well as my joys, but she endured her pain alone rather than draw me into her sadness. If she was unhappy, we made an appointment in a coffee shop. When I asked her about her disappointment, she kept her feelings to herself, just smiled through a sad look and said, “It’s nothing important to pay attention to. We should gossip about other things, then we can forget all our troubles.”

Phuong, in her friends’ eyes, was a lively fighter, willing to help others, listening to others’ problems then giving them helpful advice. She was an optimist and a perfectionist. However, she didn’t share her true feelings; she was so proud by nature. I knew those kinds of women always showed their arrogance to hide their frail nature. To the contrary, Phuong’s frail and proud nature at times seemed balanced, but sometimes the latter was stronger. Consequently, she contradicted herself. One of her characteristics that made me feel both afraid and interested was her good judge of faces and words. To me, women who had a profound awareness would find it hard to be happy. Nothing could satisfy them, they would always find fault with others or life, they dared not have faith in people. They could never accept what was shown, but they only wanted to see what was hidden. As a result, they can hardly live a peaceful life. I supposed that women should be a little foolish so that we men could live comfortably. I very often dropped a hint of this matter to her, but she just laughed it off. I never imagined how hard her life was. She has experienced great hardships and had to struggle for her existence.

​I just couldn’t believe a beautiful and kind-hearted woman like Phuong could experience such an unhappy life. I remembered once we celebrated her birthday in our favorite coffee shop. While she grasped a bunch of Lilly flowers I gave her, she felt moved, and said, “Until now, I just realize how much I love Lilly flowers.” I blamed her, “You’ve taken care of others for your whole life, and never paid attention to what you love.”  She looked at me with full of love, which just happened in a second and went away very quickly. Her quick looks of love like that often confused me.

​One time, we sat in a coffee shop while it rained outside lightly, and a gentle breeze was rustling. Phuong told me she loved so much the early summer rains, which brought the city cooler air, and brought her a good feeling. I made a joke, “So, you don’t have much good feeling until the early summer rains.” She smiled and changed another subject. Recalled those days, I couldn’t forgive myself for that stupid joke. I ought to have shown my sympathy with her; Instead, I caused her more sadness. 

​Now I could understand that her experience in miserable life kept her from making others suffered, so she tried not to show her love for me. It must be that she didn’t want to cause a trouble to my family. 

​Over ten years, I haven’t forgotten Phuong yet. My feelings for her have always been here in my soul. Foremost, I felt gratitude to her for what she has done for my family. If she had welcomed my love, my marriage would have been broken. My way of life would be all pretence, even though I had tried hard to keep it up. Now in old age, I’m sure that a happy family is the best support of one’s own life. Therefore, Phuong has always been in my heart as an adoring figure.

​I went to Dalat to teach for five weeks. After one week of teaching, I called Phuong in the evening to ask her if she wanted to see me there. She said, “I am getting a trouble with my company, and hope to work it out soon. Please wait for me until next weekend. I’ve never been in Dalat before, so I’m excited to go there.”

​I felt so happy as if I were a young man with his first time in love. Every night I alone played the guitar and sang a beautiful song, waiting for her.

​That beautiful weekend I took her out over the city on a very old motor cycle, which was lent to me by a friend. He offered me his new one, but Phuong was sensible and preferred to borrow the old one. The roads of the city were down-hill and up-hill. Phuong had to walk many times.

​About 10 p.m. I brought her back to her hotel, before I went back to the campus. At that time, if Phuong had taken my hand, I would have stayed the night with her. But, she just waved me goodbye and said goodnight, then leaped upstairs very quickly leaving me in a stunned silence.

​I could tell her everything of my life, but my love for her could be shown to no one. I’d be considered as a fool by my close friends if I told them about my feelings. Nobody could make sense of our relationship. It was so saintly – as pure and fragile as crystal – that I was afraid of it being shattered into fragments if I touched it rudely.

​At that time, whenever we met in a coffee shop, Phuong ordered her a cup of coffee while I always preferred some beer. She never asked me why, until one day, I told her about my wife’s character. She’s been always keeping her eye on my acts. If I came home late with a smell of beer, she’d supposed that I just met some guys. Phuong looked at me, shocked, “It seems our relationship is unusual.” I’m surprised “Why do you say that?” She looked at me sadly, “If it’s pure you don’t have to ignore it.” 

​It startled me … Then, little by little we gradually lost touch until our relationship was lost…

​Now, her verses bring me an awakening of her severe pain even though they seem very simple.

           If there’s a tomorrow

          May you and I

        Never see each other again

       In dream or real life

​As for me, I do want to see you again, in dream or in real life, my dear Phuong!