Can feelings without sex be called love? | People with stories

I was breastfeeding my baby when my phone rang. My husband handed it to me, glanced at the caller ID, and laughed, saying, “Oh, it’s your ‘ex-girlfriend.'” I glared at him and answered the phone.

The other person’s first words were: “Miaomiao, I’m getting married.”

I paused for a moment, then said, “Okay.”

She said softly, “Okay, I’ll send you the time and address. I’ll definitely come. I really want to see you.”

Hearing her say that, I felt a bit conflicted: “It’s been so long since we last met, I’ll definitely go. I miss you too.”

The “ex-girlfriend” my husband mentioned was my college classmate. It had been a long time since the semester started, and my impression of her was just that she was a chubby, quiet girl. We became acquainted because we often bumped into each other at the food stalls near the east gate of the school; we both loved meat. Gradually, we started eating together frequently, and she told me to call her Lao Zhang.

Gradually, I discovered that Lao Zhang was not as unremarkable as she appeared. In fact, she was quite accomplished and had a wide range of interests. She had a good understanding of history and humanities, which are common weaknesses for science and engineering students, and she had unique insights into them.

Later, we even made plans to go to the library together, recommending books we liked to each other. Under the dim streetlights outside the library, we walked around the fountain square again and again, chatting about everything from “supernatural forces” to “human anatomy” and “wine appreciation,” thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

Occasionally, she, who usually sleeps in late, would get up early to watch my track and field team train. I don’t know what she, with her severe nearsightedness, could see sitting in the far stands. After training, we would go out for breakfast together, and when she wasn’t training, she would eat more than I did.

As intelligent as Lao Zhang is, she is still a woman after all. She has told me more than once that if she were as thin as me, her personality wouldn’t be the way it is today. “Everyone thinks fat people should have good tempers, and if someone is fat and doesn’t accept their fate, it’s practically a double sin.”

I laughed out loud, but I also understood. She continued angrily, “I just happen to be a fat person with a bad temper, so I’d rather not say anything.”

Unlike Lao Zhang, I have many friends from the student union, the sprint team, the research group, and the radio station, etc. Whenever I’m chatting and laughing with them, Lao Zhang always seems very uncomfortable when we run into her. My friends are also surprised that Lao Zhang and I, two people with completely different personalities, are friends.

But I know we have similarities, it’s just that subconsciously, I don’t intend to show this part of myself to most of my friends. Because I know perfectly well that someone as honest and direct as Lao Zhang isn’t popular, I care a lot about how others perceive me, and I prefer to abide by social rules, and I can’t say I’m wrong for that.

Now a junior in college, I’ve met the first person I’ve ever hated—a boy who claims to like me.

This guy often worked with me on duty at the student council. One day, he suddenly told me he liked me and wanted me to be his girlfriend. He wasn’t my type, so I refused. But for the next week, he followed me everywhere, relentlessly pestering me.

One evening, he blocked my way at the dormitory entrance again and tried to grab my arm, which I quickly backed away from. Just then, Old Zhang came back from getting water. Old Zhang slapped his hand away forcefully and yelled, “This is sexual harassment! Do you believe I’ll call the police? Get out of here!”

The boy’s face turned bright red, and he immediately turned and walked away. A group of onlookers gathered around us, some of whom we knew. I felt very embarrassed, so I grabbed Lao Zhang and ran away as if we were escaping.

What happened next far exceeded my expectations. That guy shamelessly spread rumors throughout the student council, saying that Lao Zhang and I were gay, and that he even saw us going to a hotel together!

At first, I naively thought that no one would believe such a mindless rumor. But gradually, more and more friends distanced themselves from me, especially when they saw Lao Zhang and me together. Their expressions towards us were filled with undisguised disgust and a hint of schadenfreude. Eventually, even my counselor came to talk to me, vaguely warning me that the school did not allow this kind of situation. Even after hearing my explanation, the counselor was still skeptical and told me to keep my distance from Lao Zhang.

Before this, life had always been easy for me. My parents were tolerant, my classmates were friendly, and I excelled in both my studies and extracurricular activities. I thought that was all there was to life. Now, the mask of warmth in my life has been torn off, and the naked evil of human nature is laid bare before my eyes. I am panicked and bewildered, completely powerless to resist.

I resigned from my position as a student council minister, stopped training with the sprint team, and even started to distance myself from Lao Zhang, even though I knew we were both victims in this incident and that she had helped me. But I was scared; I just wanted to escape the gossip and the ever-present gaze of everyone.

Old Zhang naturally didn’t care about others, but my attitude deeply hurt her. She was far more resolute than I was, applying for a year’s leave of absence to volunteer as a teacher in a rural area.

After she left, I felt a sense of relief, but more than that, I felt guilty and disappointed in myself.

Later, I met my current husband, Lei Zi. He was there for me during the first dark period of my life, and he told me not to be afraid of those who hurt me.

Lei took me to find the culprit and demanded a public apology, which he naturally refused. Next, Lei helped me contact a lawyer to sue the boy for defamation; the lawyer’s letter was sent directly to the boy’s college counselor. The boy panicked and came to us begging us not to escalate the situation. Finally, he wrote an apology letter and posted it on the school bulletin board.

Actually, what hurt me the most about this whole thing wasn’t the boy’s rumors, but the attitude of my friends. Defamation can be pursued, but the hurt from friends is something they don’t want to talk about and can’t be healed.

Through this experience, I matured a lot and finally mustered the courage to contact Lao Zhang. On the day she finished her teaching stint and returned to school, we went to a food stall near Xiaodongmen, ordered beer, and chatted from afternoon until late at night. When Lei Zi came to pick us up, I could barely speak, but I was very happy and kept smiling.

Graduation day arrived, and Lei Zi and I went to another city to pursue our master’s degrees. Lao Zhang and I, on the other hand, stayed in touch. Time always slips away unnoticed, and looking back, the path we came from has become blurred.

Over the years, I studied, graduated, worked, got married, and had children. Life seemed to have its own will, leading me step by step onto the same trajectory as millions of other ordinary people. The focus of my life gradually shifted, and although I wasn’t in control, I didn’t feel resentful.

Old Zhang has always been different from me. If my life is about following the established path, then hers is about always choosing the path less traveled.

Because of her interest in Tibetan Buddhist culture, she insisted on going to Tibet after graduation, which infuriated her parents. She works at a state-owned bank in Tibet, which is very close to Nepal.

She said that Nepalese people are all very beautiful, with high noses and deep-set eyes, and the reserved features of East Asians. However, they have an open personality and style. She often sees them in the daytime at the sex shop diagonally opposite the bank, and at night they gather in front of the bar, completely slovenly.

She said the work was too tiring, and the local senior employees bullied her. They even made her, a junior teller, do the repairs on the ATMs, and used her poor Chinese as an excuse to push all the paperwork onto her.

She said Tibet is beautiful. Under the azure sky, colorful prayer flags flutter in the wind, silently conveying the beautiful wishes of mankind to the gods. The Tibetans who worship in front of the Jokhang Temple have the clearest eyes.

She said the rainy season in Tibet is terrible. At night, thunderstorms and hail come fiercely, and the sound of rain is deafening in the vast sky. Water and power outages often occur. Away from modern material civilization, people seem so small and so lonely.

After working for a few years, she saved some money and went to Sweden to learn Swedish. She even sent me a gift when I got married. She stayed in Sweden for two years until she was completely broke, at which point she returned to her hometown and started looking for work again.

Old Zhang had never had a boyfriend, and her parents kept pressuring her to go on blind dates, which distressed her greatly. One day, she told me she hated men. As her friend of many years, I had a vague feeling about it, but I wasn’t too surprised. I asked her if she had ever had a girlfriend. She said she had, but found that she wasn’t interested in women’s bodies.

Can feelings without sex be called love? Maybe I’m not even capable of loving someone.

She asked me, and I had no answer. I am lucky, my luck lies in the fact that I am like the vast majority of people, while her confusion and pain stem from her being different. This is not her fault, but it has become her sin.

Her parents were adamant about her getting married, even threatening suicide. I asked her if she had ever thought about being honest with them, and she shook her head, smiling bitterly, and said, “Do you really think my parents are completely oblivious? They’re already scared, and they’re forcing me to get married to force me to become a ‘normal’ person in the eyes of the world. Why should I force them to accept the truth?”

Her conclusion was, “It’s not painful to be different from others; what’s painful is having to pretend to be the same when you’re actually different. “

I could sense the unspeakable despair in her voice, but what could she do in the face of fate, societal prejudice, and especially when her parents refused to understand her?

She ultimately chose to compromise. She searched tirelessly online, contacting gay men who, like her, were pressured by their families to marry, intending to fulfill her parents’ wishes through a marriage of convenience. It seems she found someone.

Life is like a play; who can truly do whatever they want? We are all just playing the roles that are expected of us.