YHTD 17

Chapter 17

Atypical Long-Distance Relationship Rules

10
When we first got together, we didn’t really understand each other’s quirks and always thought about adding little romances and surprises.
For example, I would write letters to San Ye—one per week. They weren’t anything literary; just mundane stuff, like gossiping about everyday life, like what the older ladies chatting by the village entrance would talk about while cracking sunflower seeds.

I’d write to him about the stray dog by our cafeteria, a dirty little Teddy. Every time I fed it leftovers, it would look at me with total disdain.

I told him about the sparrows outside our building, plump like fat geese, that didn’t even need nets to catch—just hold out some birdseed in your hand, and they’d come to perch right there.

One night there was a strong wind, and a classmate who had eaten too much watermelon had their feet outside the blanket while sleeping, caught a chill, and wet the bed.

I bought lots of pretty, girly pink stationery and colorful envelopes, stuck stamps on them, and tossed them into the green mailbox at our school gate, waiting for them to bump along until they reached San Ye’s hands.

But in the end, I never got a reply.

A month later, I couldn’t hold it in and asked San Ye: “Did you see the letters I wrote you?”
He looked surprised and asked, “What letters?”

Those letters, full of a young girl’s thoughts, were sent for four years but never reached him. Who knows which unknown corner they were secretly hiding in.

11
When letters couldn’t reach him, we switched to parcels.

It started with San Ye’s birthday. I prepared a whole box of things. I can’t remember all of them now, but I remember he said that Xiamen didn’t have dried instant noodles, so I stuffed in several packs of Little Raccoon snacks. I also included a journal I had carefully made, with photos.

I documented my daily life with my phone, printed the photos regularly, pasted them into the journal, and recorded what I did, ate, and thought that day with colorful pens, writing and drawing—it was just a big, dramatic display. One morning, I even woke my roommate to take a picture of me brushing my teeth.

San Ye really liked the journal. When he graduated and left school, he sent it back home with his important documents. I heard that when his mom—my future mother-in-law—accidentally saw it, her expression was priceless…

San Ye followed suit for my birthday and sent me a box of gifts: a teddy bear that I cuddled for years, and a bunch of expensive trinkets that I eventually lost track of.

He also gave me a collection of handwritten love letters, each page poetic and, in short, cheesy.

There was a hand-drawn map of Xiamen University, which I stuck on my wall by the bed. When we called, he would tell me where he was and where he was going, and I would trace his path on the map with my finger.

Later, for birthdays, we stopped doing these grand romantic gestures. Instead, we would try to spend them together in person.

12
Long-distance relationships are indeed prone to arguments, especially when the relationship is still unstable. San Ye and I often quarreled over trivial things.

Once, on the eve of National Day, we fought so badly that I insisted on breaking up. I can’t remember exactly what it was about now, but it seemed extremely tense at the time.

I resolutely told him, “I’ve had enough of you. Let’s break up. I don’t want to keep fighting with you.”

San Ye, however, apologized sincerely: “Okay, it’s my fault. Don’t be angry.”

I cried desperately, “I’m not angry. I just can’t handle a long-distance relationship. Don’t you think that if you were here during our arguments, just giving me a hug would solve everything?”

San Ye didn’t say anything. After I cried enough, he asked, “Just a hug? Then… should I come over tomorrow?”

I was stunned: “…Are you serious?”
He replied, “Yes, I’m looking at tickets right now. I’ll buy them immediately.”

Suddenly, I forgot all about being angry or crying: “Alright, then I’ll wait for you before breaking up… Go ahead and book the ticket, I’ll find a place for you to stay.”

We each went about our business, and the impending breakup crisis vanished instantly.

That was the first time in my twenty-plus years that I realized I was so important to someone else.

13
Although San Ye would occasionally fly over to spend a few days with me, most of the time we couldn’t afford the money or find the time, so in the first two years, arguments were basically everyday occurrences.

Whenever we argued, I would say harsh things. San Ye’s approach was: “No response, no defense.”

I once asked him, “Don’t you know that ignoring texts and calls when I’m angry is wrong? That just makes me angrier!”

He said, “You get angry fast, but you also calm down fast. I just quietly listen to you. Once you’re done, you won’t be mad anymore. If I argued back, you’d get even angrier. And if you started crying, I’d be helpless.”

Hearing him care for me like that cooled my anger. Just as I was about to say, “I’m also in the wrong,” he smugly added: “By the way, I took screenshots of your texts and recorded our calls. Once you calm down, you’ll end up admitting you’re wrong in front of the evidence anyway.”

I: “….”

Our relationship was never peaceful and idyllic, but somehow, when two ‘firecrackers’ like us were together, we always managed to defuse each other’s tempers.