He comes here every now and then. I wait for him by the gate with his favorite snack: Har gow (shrimp dumplings). I can never actually predict the time when he'll come,  but he mainly shows up on cold winter nights and hot summer or spring days. My heart skips a beat every time I see his flawless face coming up the dirt road. His name is Zhang Yixing. The year is 360 B.C. in China.

The first night he came by my house, I was conflicted with the thought of having a man I wasn't married to because I was raised to never share a house with a man unless I was married to him, but Zhang needed a place to stay for the night. Eventually, I decided to go on and let him stay. The next morning, he was gone, and he didn't return until the spring.

"When will you stay?" I asked the next time he stayed.

Zhang smiled at me, touched my face and responded, "Just wait for me at the gate."

The less Zhang came, the more frustrated me I became I grew irritated with him for each night he didn't show up. When I saw him, I angrily stomped down the dirt road and denounced him for treating me this way.

"Why do you treat me this way, Zhang?" I screamed. "Do you think I'd want to wait for some rolling stone like you?"

Zhang was as calm as a gentle summer breeze. He smiled at me, touched my face and explained to me he would always come back to me whenever he's ready. This was the last time I saw him this spring. In his place, a stray white dog would come in his place. At least someone would stay with me. I named it Lay because he would do nothing but sleep on the mat. He provided companionship when Zhang wasn't here and a pillow to cry in whenever I was devastated.

It's now the summer, and I wait for Zhang in front of the gate with the dumplings. Even though this is nightfall, beads of sweat form against my forehead, and I can feel my sweaty underarms under my cheongsam. Zhang comes more frequently than what he used to lately, but there were still nights when I had to eat these dumplings and share them with Lay. It looks like this would be one of those nights. Not in the mood to eat, I left the bowl outside for Lay to eat and went inside.

The wall above my mat presented all of the gifts Zhang would bring me from his travels. Beautiful silk scarves from Hong Kong, the most elaborate qipaos and cheongsams I'd ever see from Peking, and flora slippers from Singapore adorn the wall. As I looked at all these gifts, a single tear rolled down my brown cheek. Soon, a salty waterfall washed over my face and my knees grew weak. I sobbed and sobbed until I fell asleep because of the energy it drained out of me.

During the middle of the night, I felt strong, warm arms envelop me. I woke up to see Zhang, the rolling stone, my exotic traveler, right next to me, smiling that calm, sweet smile.

"I know you've been crying since I've been gone," he began, "but you don't have to cry anymore because I'm not going anywhere."

And he never did.

___________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!! ☺