This is the story in my blog This takes place in 1800s, is written from a masculine point of view, and at the time, interracial marriages were forbidden. AM/WF

Touch, a gentle glide of fingers to wrist, holding hands as sun and moon interweave. A tear, a splash of water, many colors within, an image of two lovers, broken by fate, a twist of time, not in favor of the law.

She married. I was not there, but news spread around, from mouth to mouth. By now, I miss her. Her perfume, her kisses, her smile, spread petals in the wind. She is no longer mine, but another’s.

“I will not be yours,” She said as I held her. “I—“ She stopped rapidly. I turn to her, seeing the tears run from eyes.

“I know.” I wipe her tears away. My dream, my first love is leaving.

“Soon we will not be together.”

“Yes.”

Peace. Black sky spreads out, silver snow emerges. Chirp, chirp, the crickets are awake. Small lights flash; fireflies emerge, bliss to be out, within the nature. “May I ask for two favors?”

“Yes you may.” I let go of her hand and then turn my head away.

Her touch, warmth radiates, spreads out through me. I turn and see her bright eyes, the fear written within. “I love you,” she whispered, her lips close to my ear.

My fingers rub hers. Ideal moment of lovers, of two people who cannot be as one forever, but can only capture essence from today. “I love you too,”

“I love you. When I marry, I do not want for you to allow my spirit to haunt you.”

“Why not?”

She turns away. Peace.

“Why not?” I ask again.

She speaks. She is not facing me. “There might be a girl for you, one who can give you joy that I cannot give.”

“You give me a lot of joy.” I see her shaking her head.

“I cannot give what you need. I cannot be your wife nor grant you a child. I can bear a child, but not yours.”

For a moment I am without words. Seconds pass, I wait for her to continue to talk. She is not talking but is turned away. “It does not matter,”

“I just want for you to have joy in life. I do not want you to think of me.”

“I will think of you, even if you ask me not to, I still will.”

“Please do not let me be your last love.”

“You will be, my first and last love.”

“Why?” She asks. I take away my hand from hers. The sun coming from her hand is removed.

I sigh. “Only few girls from China can come in. And the girls that come are prostitutes.”

Calm. She turns her head towards me, her bright eyes scared. “Would you have the honor of being my first?”

“Your first?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you ask me that?”

“I don’t want to be his bride, I don’t love him.”

I am torn, a seagull caught in the storm. There are no words I can comfort her with. “Maybe you will love him in time.”

I can see her shaking her head. “He is my suitor. We are together for almost a year…I” she paused. “I do not love him. I feel empty when I am with him. “

There are no other suitors. She and I talk often, meet one another by the night, in secret. “You do not want to be old maid at nineteen?” I ask.

“Yes. I do not want him, I want you.”

“If I will agree, what of your father? He holds hate for Chinese. What will you do if you will expect a child, and your father discovers my part?”

“My marriage is in two months. If I will expect a child, I will claim the child is my husband’s.”

“You do know that my father’s and my brothers’ lives are in my hands.”

“I know.” I see two fireflies chasing each other. “Please trust me. Until the my wedding, I asked to stay with a relative.”

I do not reject her request. Until the traces of gold and red sun, I lie with her, the two of us together as one. When I wake up, she is still lying in my arms, a fairy from a world of beauty. I close my eyes and kiss her cheek. “I want joy for you,” I start to whisper. “I do not want to let you go, to be with another man. I want to hold you in my arms evermore, into thousands of years until our remains disappear, and our skeletons are left.” I see she does not stir. Her eyes remain closed. “If I had many lifetimes, I would spend them all with you, watching our skeletons turn to dust, but still we would be together, as one, forevermore.” Gently I move away from her. I want for her to have something of mine, I think. I pick up my belongings, and see a chain of gold, with two rings. Both of rings are made of gold, heirlooms from China. They look alike, with jade as stones. Jade is a good luck stone in China.

The rings belonged to my mother. When I left China, she gave those rings to me, to remember her and the family that is left back. Gently I remove the ring and take her hand. I feel her pulse beating, a gong in motion. I slip the ring on her ring finger and slip away, unseen and unheard.

Two months pass, and she married. I did not hear a word about the ring I gave, but I did hear of rumors that she is expecting a child. Today, she is not mine but another’s. I still cannot forget her, still feel her spirit is mine, even if she is another’s.

If era was different, I realize, she would be mine, and two of us would be forever.

__________________
Once you go Asian, you'll never go caucasian

the story was beautiful. It is very intense and the part about the rings was moving and deep and that the story had a sad ending because they couldn't be together.
"I wonder if the child is his because she is expecting only two months after she lays with him"

__________________
already miss you all.