塵風之夜 Dust Wind's Night

“It was raining,” I said. “It was raining all day long.” He turned to look at me, surprised by my sudden urge to speak. We had been in a fight for a couple of weeks which both of us were unwilling to compromise. The “Epic World War III” was what Emma, my sister, had called it while rolling her eyes. 

It was not my intention to fight with him, however, fights just seemed to be a problem that was inevitable whenever we were together. It just did. He and I were too different, in fact, we might be the complete opposite of each other. If I were to choose to soar freely in the endless blue sky, he would have preferred to roam wild on the vast earth. If I were to adore the pureness of white, he would have wished for the serenity of black. We were like magnets, positive and negative, south and north, yet we were attracted to each other. We were inseparable. 

Everytime we fought, everytime we argued, we would always fall into dead cold silence and ignore each other for a long time. Then, time would always soothe the tension between us; time would always wash out the anger; time would always unite us again, as though nothing happened in the first place. Yet, whenever we fought, we still could not seem to let go of one another. We would still stay in the same room, still see each other, just without the dialogue. Just like what was happening right now. 

“It was raining,” I repeated. There was a pause as I waited. He did not respond. Closing my eyes, I continued, “It is still raining.”

I heard the sound of papers being shuffled. I heard the creaking sound of the old, wooden chair. I heard the steady sound of footsteps. His footsteps. And as I expected, I was wrapped in his arms. He stroke my back softly and carefully, as if I were his most precious treasure. I pressed my head deep into his embrace and heard the familiar yet strong and rhythmic beating of his heart. 

“Hey, it’s not raining, the sun’s out today. Why don’t we go out for a walk?” He smiled warmly and patted me on the head lovingly. I burried my face into his chest and nodded. Silence fell upon us again, but unlike the awkward silence from before, it was soothing this time. He tightened his arms and kissed me on my forehead. 

“Je pluie,” I said, my voice muffled by his shirt. (Je pluie = I rain)

“Quoi?” He quirked his eyebrows with a mix of amusement and confusion. “As-tu dit, “je pluie”?” (Quoi = what) (As-tu dit,"je pluie" = did you said, "I rain")

I nodded in response, just wanting to savour his warmth. 

“Veux-tu dire, “Je pleure”?” He frowned, bewildered. (Veux-tu dire, "Je pleure" = is "I cry" what you want to say)

Without replying, I hugged him tighter. This seemed to have taken him by surprise for a warm laugh escaped his mouth. I had always been wondering why were we together. Why were we attracted to each other? Yet, I did not dare to explore deeper into this thought  because I feared that I would lose him. 

It was raining. It had been raining. It is still raining. But, the sun would always shine through the clouds, leaving a warm patch of sunlight. A little candle of hope.

And at that moment, I knew. I knew the reason why black could not exist without white. I knew the reason why good could not strive without evil. I knew the reason why I could not live without you. Because, we belonged to each other. Where you go, I will follow. Where I stay, you will come. We are one at heart.

“Pourquoi est-ce que tu pleure?” He asked gently. (Pourquoi est-ce que tu pleure = why do you cry)

I looked at our intertwined hands, and smiled.

“Parce que je me rends compte à quel point je t’aime.” 

Because I realize how much I love you.