I have a sweet memory here.
I and LK came here to study English. We rented a studio room at 5 Princes Avenue, the big house right behind the church pub. During our stay here, we made here a very sweet home to us. We went to school together every morning, walking down along the Muswell Hill Road, passing the wood, and down to Highgate. I walked very slowly, and he was always pushing me hard so that we didn't have to late for class, and that's how we got to quarrels every morning. After the class finished at noon, we would travel to places in London and then we came back to Muswell Hill at dawn, bought food at Sainsbury, prepared for dinner. I cooked almost every night, as if we were married couple.
We bought flowers from the stall down the street corner to decorate our home. Sometimes I went to Swiss Village or Ha Ha Bar with friends at night and he was always waiting me for home, even for one time, I went to a club at London and had to take a night bus home at 3am, he had went down to the street conrner waiting for my bus arrive. We travelled almost everywhere in London and we travelled places in UK.
We stayed here for half year, a very sweet happy half year. And then we came back to our country.
For not more than half year, we got separate. He said he wasn't happy with me. He asked me to stay away with him as he feel like he is gigolo when i touch him. He went with another girl, slept with her. From that day onwards, I had to squeeze my memory into an iron box. locked them up, including the days at Muswell Hill. I lived painfully for a year until I found a new love. All my past had become a suffering, even when he turned up again and said he realized I am the only he had loved, and he still love me. He regrets he had left me, but he didn't know it's his words, not his leaving, which hurt me deeply, and that wipe out all the happiness I had with him. In all my dreams seeing him, I can just sign.