SofarLunar

"I endured this pain day after day, drowned in the ocean of tears that weren't allowed to leave my eyes. I held on for long, but they didn't love to see that, they stepped upon my head, content to watch me drown in the emotional mess they caused."

Seven relationships and all were doomed from the start. The same issues and the same outcome, all the girls he loved left him, cheated on him, stabbed him in the back. 

Was he hexed? Was he really the problem? Why did they never last? Chang Wu didn't know. All he knew was that, they were breaking his heart to smaller pieces every time they walked out of his life because he couldn't 'afford' them. 
 
He'd tried everything to the extent everyone called him a simp for women who wouldn't even do half of what he'd done for them. 'Why were all middle class women the same?' Why hadn't he met one that wouldn't push the burden of financial responsibilities on his shoulders. The more he thought of it, the more he bore hate, until he decided to give up on them, and aim for something higher. 


Dating a rich woman was his next step. As impossible as it sounded and difficult to achieve, he thought the woman on the magazine cover that caught his attention would actually love him, not because of money because she already had that. There were problems, he had to live falsely to catch her eye and watch out for potential threats to avoid the truth from getting exposed, but how long would he pretend to be the opposite of what he truly was? How long would he lie? How long would he continue to live in fear? And most importantly, how would he put an end to the facade without getting his dream woman hurt?

Why I hate Middle Class Women

"Miss Ahn, She's the one that has been making soup for you ever since you got here" It had been five days ever since Jessica was sick, and because she'd recover to a good extent, Xin introduced her to the granny that had been cooking her soup all along.

She stood quite tall and slim, her short grey hair neat and likely styled with old-fashioned rollers, the kind women used to sleep in, and her face was more wrinkled than a summer shirt dragged out on a festering laundry basket.

"Good day" Jessica greeted, and through thin lips that stretch over toothless gums, the old lady spoke "Hello dear. Are you feeling any better?"

She nodded with a smile "Yes. Your soup helped me out a lot. Thank you so much."

"I'm glad I could help." It wasn't easy for Xin to convince her, but since she hadn't heard moans and bickering from his apartment, she rewarded him for how quiet his place had been.

Part V