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Best Love Story Movies
Only Love Part 1

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It's a cold February night. People are bustling through the streets, either pulling up their coat collars or wrapping scarves around their necks, trying to stay warm. It's so cold today. I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning?

"Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief.
"Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!"
"You are fortunate." Another nurse says.
"Some people don't have anyone waiting for them."
"You mean Dr. Shu?" Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name.
"Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?"
"Of course I do." A nurse shudders.
"I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy." They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said.
"You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well."
"Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you." The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall.

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"Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?" Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on the box of Valentine's Day chocolates.
"I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything.
"Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.
"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away. That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waiting for me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed.

(Read More : English Love Story)

After I reached home, the first thing I did was to feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference.
"Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about the severity of my tone. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes full of rebellion.


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