Diary with my daughter: preface

Preface

Most decisions were made when one is at, or thought to be at, the height of one’s life. When one is promoted, for instance, or when one won a lottery or fell into love. It is then when people make decisions without really thinking about them. One would think, of course, about what the decisions might become if all goes well. One may imagine driving a Porsche to work, and one the way to work, a pretty lady’s car broke down. You then invite her to step on your car, and poof! Romance struck between you. You might fail to notice, however, that you have to borrow a whole lot of money to buy one of those expensive cars, and that it would suck you dry like a pale, ashen faced vampire, that your salary is far too less to support the maintenance, and the black hole comparable cost of dating. that is, if you ever find a suitable candidate. We skip all of these concerns and thinking processes when happiness flushes our head, and do what our desire tells us to do. It might be true, and may achieve what we dream in the first place, but the chance is as rare as someone being struck thrice by bolts of lightning in three minutes. Not to say it is impossible, but the chance is as small as it can be. The aftermaths or what is influenced by the decisions are what lives with us after a new wave of misery, such as the arrival of your bills, or when the girl asks for a breakup, hits.

I was a foolish man, not to say that I’ve grown out of it, but I was, indeed foolish. It was the summer vacation precisely two years ago, and I remember as if it were yesterday. I grew up in a Spartan like family. My father practically meant authority. His word is law, and his mind represents the unspoken rules that regulate our daily lives. Every twitch of his muscle meant something, and we must figure it but before catastrophe lands upon us. But the boundaries suddenly loosen as I enter the second year of College, when he announced that my grades were up to his standard. Ah! Freedom, as I have never experienced. I could almost taste the sweetness of the air that surrounds me, the rich aroma from the lush, prospering plants. I carefully toed the line, but my heart has flown to the paradise of the tranquil gardens up in the unpolluted lands. As my heart suck in experiences that I have never known, or even realized its existence, I was suddenly struck by what I deceived as love, but received as a mix of curiosity, liking and lust later on in my life. But I was blinded, by pure passion and my ignorance, and fell into an unlucky event that still disturbs me to this very day.

It was in school that we met. I soon asked her out for a date, which she indirectly refused. I should have seen it coming from that very second and just stop at that. But I didn’t. Looking back, I saw a fly, buzzing here and there, despite her dismay, and took her politeness as a chance, and pressed on, politely, but positively annoying. Then she thought that she should give me a chance, she later confessed, and we went, to a lab together. If there were any chance before, this might just have drawn the final line to all of it, resulting in whatever happened later on. It seems so clear now I step back and view the whole matter rationally and by logic, but again, there is no room for regret, and no turning back. I, delighted to be given the chance to spend a whole summer with her, had made a decision. I have, despite all the clear facts, already pictured the pair of us, in a lovely and steady relationship, and the dream of owning my own doll, my beloved daughter had sprung back to life. I did with all my efforts, to find a suitable doll. I always wanted a 1/6, and never in my life that I dreamed that I might own a 1/3 doll. The reason is too simple to be asked. I always love children, with all my heart and soul. I never thought I could spank them or ever refuse (I have refused some of their overly pleas, but it breaks my heart to see them disappointed, although I know it’s the right thing to do). You might say that is exactly the attitude that spoils a kid, but that’s something else. But under her influence, what I had was a 1/3 instead of a 1/6, larger, more expensive, and harder to hide. The purchase was done at 8/26, Chinese valentine. And ironically, it was on that very day that we had the biggest fight ever. From that day on, things went worse and worse. What had happened was never important now. The important thing is that we never became lovers, or to be more precise, I never passed the “trial session”. But what does it matter? I am here to tell you the story between me and my beloved daughter, Ying.