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Emotional Curiosity

by Changming Yuan


He didn’t know how curiosity could kill a cat, but he was acutely aware how it had been killing him ever since she first asked him, “What do you like about me?”

Since they’d fallen in love again after losing each other for nearly half a century, he’d been haunted by this question. Without getting an answer, he felt he could not live peacefully. Indeed, for him, the answer meant not merely an emotional statement but an intellectual discovery, which could help him gain a better understanding of himself. After all, knowing himself was a major task which he had to fulfill in this lifetime, something increasingly urgent for him as a retiree with so many health problems.

“Everything about you!” he replied, firmly in tone, but far less accurately in content than he’d hoped.

“Your answer is too general, too vague,” she commented.

“True,” he agreed. This answer did sound like a handy or lazy catchphrase. He had to come up with something more specific, more articulate.

She narrowed down her question: “What do you like most about me?”

“Well, it depends on the time!”

When he’d first seen her during a high school meeting, he’d recognized her as the prettiest girl in town. A year later, when he had a chance to look at her more closely on a forest farm where they labored together as “re-educated” Red Guards, he realized that, if viewed separately, her eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth or ears might not necessarily be beautiful but, put together, her facial features looked perfectly attractive. Coupled with her fair, soft, smooth and immaculate skin, as well as her slender and shapely figure, her physical appearance was simply stunning.

“I know I’m never as good-looking as you describe,” she said.

Her response was certainly understandable: if she’d stood beside his wife when they were all in their early twenties, she might not have looked as beautiful to most people; yes, he was sure of that. But somehow, he enjoyed gazing at her more than any other woman in the world. Was it really because absence makes the heart grow fonder? Or perhaps because every time he saw her, he found her even better-looking than before? For instance, when he re-encountered her at a dinner party in early October in 2019, he found her “wearing her years” so well that she seemed to belong to a younger generation. It probably had to do with her gracious manners. In other words, it must be how her personality contributed significantly to her looks.

“Still, I know my looks aren’t really so good,” she stressed.

“They are to me!” he reiterated. After more thinking, he realized that she was most attractive to him for two reasons. One: she looked not only pretty but warm and tender at the same time. Probably because she often smiled like a flower blooming from her innermost being; the very sight of her made him feel happy. That’s why, every time they met online, he’d gaze at her via iPad until she was too tired to hold her cellphone in her hand. In particular, he found something unique in her facial expression. As in the case of Mona Lisa’s mysterious smile, she always looked genuinely interested. This interestedness undoubtedly added greatly to her attraction.

“If you say so,” she said.

Despite her response, he continued to say he’d finally decoded her beauty. For one thing, he enjoyed listening to her voice. Her accent sounded familiar and soothing because it carried with it a distinct note of everything good about their shared hometown. Even her breathing made him feel comforted like an infant listening to its mother’s heartbeats while in her arms. He often imagined smelling the unique natural fragrance from her body, which only he can discern with his exceptionally sharp nose. Even an offline touch would send him right to heaven.

Most amazingly, from their occasional sex talks, he’d learned that she still functioned perfectly well.

“So, you like my looks or sexuality most?” she asked coyly, still not satisfied with his explication.

“Of course, that’s the starting point for me, just as for any male in the animal world,” he replied half-jokingly.

“Then what exactly do you like about me?” she persisted.

* * *

He believed he’d found a good enough answer, But, as he did more thinking along the line, he felt sheepish that the answer was still hidden even from himself, though he’d been trying hard to come up with the right one for months. Sometimes, he wanted to give up the effort, but he was born with a strong sense of curiosity. He had to continue his pursuit.

As he kept writing and publishing more love poetry inspired by her, he came to see her not only as his Muse, but the true soulmate he’d been looking for during the past few decades. Recalling how he always enjoyed talking with her, about anything, ranging from art, literature and aesthetics to job, money and gossip, sex and love, he found there was nothing they could not talk about now online, nor will there be anything they could not do together once they’ve met offline.

“I love you most as the perfect nest for me as a bird,” he replied.

“You lost me there.”

“However far my body travels in this world, however high my soul soars in the spiritual space, my body has to return to you with my soul. Just as your personality is the home to my selfhood, your intact vagina is the nest for my dick to perch in for the night...”

“Watch your mouth!” she said, coquettishly.

“I’ll keep trying to find the answer about my nest,” he promised, “but for now, what do you like about me?”


Copyright © 2023 by Changming Yuan

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