She Asked About Tomorrow

It rained all day. At dusk, a friend I had not heard from in a long time sent a message—again about love.

She asked what to say at the next meeting, whether they could be together, and what she should do.

Those who love deeply often give both their heart and their imagination. The other person becomes all virtue, while the desired ending fills the whole field of view.

I asked: ‘Is the person you want real, or imagined?’ A real person is never made only of strengths; a real relationship is never made only of desire.

Love may contain an impulse to risk everything. But is that impulse recklessness, self-hypnosis, or a clear-eyed willingness to accept the consequences?

The Qingjing Jing says the spirit loves clarity while the mind disturbs it; the mind loves stillness while desire pulls it. Desire is not a sin, but it can hide the real person behind an image.

Rain still rustled outside. I did not rush to script her next conversation or predict the answer. It was raining inside her too.

Tomorrow will come. Before asking it for an answer, can we first settle today, see ourselves clearly, and then decide whether we are willing to meet a real person and carry a real choice?