Atongla Rothrong
I have two things to confess to you today, which will take a long time. But I must tell someone and you are the best one to tell, as I know that, come what may, you my diary, always keep my space.
The first is about the driving force in my life, Mummy and Papa. You know, I’ve grumbled a lot about them, yet tried to be nice to them again. Now it is suddenly clear to me what they lack. They themselves have told me that they looked upon me more as a friend than their daughter. Now that is all very fine, but still, a friend can’t take the place of my ma and pa. I need them as an example which I can follow; I want to be able to respect them. I have a feeling that some thinks differently about these things and would never be able to understand what I’ve just mentioned.
I imagine a parent as persons who, in the first place, shows great tact, especially towards their children when they reach of age and who does not laugh at me if I cry about something-not pain, but other things-like “parents” does.
One thing perhaps, which perhaps may seem rather fatuous, I have never forgiven them. It was on a day that I had to go for my regular medical check-up. Ma and Pa were going to come with me, and agreed that I should take my bicycle. When we had finished at the clinic, and were outside again, they told me that they were going into town to look at something-I don’t remember exactly what. I wanted to go too, but was not allowed to, as I had my bicycle with me. Tears of rage sprang into my eyes and they began laughing at me. Then I became so furious that I stuck my tongue out at them in the street just as an old woman happened to pass by, who looked very shocked! I rode home on my bicycle, and I know I cried for a long time.
It is queer that the wound that Ma and Pa made then still burns, when I think of how angry I was that afternoon.
The second is something that is very difficult to tell you, because it is about myself.
Yesterday I read an article about relationship. The article might have been addressed to me personally. Although I’m not one for personal relationships, the other things in it certainly all fit me. Perusing through it, my longing to talk to someone became so intense that somehow or other I took it into my head to choose Aaron.
Sometimes, if I’ve spend the day with Aaron, it always strikes me as very snug, but because he is so retiring and would never turn anyone out who became a nuisance, I never dared stay long, because I was afraid he might think me a bore. I tried to think of an excuse to stay longer and get him talking, without it being too noticeable, and my chance came yesterday. Both Aaron and I have a mania for crossword puzzles and at that moment we hardly had anything else to do. I helped him with the clues as we sat next to each other at a little coffee table.
This too gave me a queer feeling each time I looked into his deep brown eyes, and he sat there with that mysterious laugh playing around his lips. I was able to read his inward thoughts. I could see the look of helplessness and uncertainty, at the same time a trace of his sense of emotion. I couldn’t refrain from meeting his eyes and almost beseeched- can’t you look beyond this ridiculous chatter?
Whatever you do, don’t think I’m crazy in love with Aaron-not a bit! If his parents had had a daughter instead of him, I would have tried to make friends with her too. When I pray, I do for him too- never before have I had such a clear picture of him in my mind, I don’t need a photograph of him, I can see him before my eyes, and oh, so well!
Aaron is very good looking, tall, handsome and slim with an earnest calm, intelligent face. He has hair as dark as the moonless night and wonderful dark chocolaty eyes, ruddy cheeks and a button nose. I’m mad about his laugh, above all, when he looks so mischievous and naughty.
There is no point in telling you every time the exact details of our meetings, laughter and pain. Since yesterday a lot has changed for me. It came about like this. I longed and I’m still longing-but-now something has happened, which has made it a little, just a little less. I couldn’t possibly understand the longing, yet I always knew that I did understand it and now I understand it fully. Nothing is as beloved to me now as he, my Aaron. (Rise and shine…. It’s Elvis Aaron Presley!!!)
