The Falling Petals...🌺

Closer...

"This weekend I will, for sure. I don't have any task more important that this one," I told her.

And my Buin was happy again. Buin. The name I gave her, for cute and sweet; feminine counterpart for Shillang.

The next weekend arrived and I was panicking. After all, I was going to talk to my parents about my marriage. This was definitely going to be a bolt from the blue, for them.

I was smart enough to take my sister, Dawon, into confidence the night before we left for Gwangju. She already knew something was going on between me and some girl. My last night calls had made that much clear. But she had never imagined that all this started at a matrimonial site. Being her younger brother, I did not give her any option except to be on my side when I talked to mom and dad.

Since the moment we arrived at our home in Gwangju, I was doing strange things, moving here and there, trying to bring the subject up, trying to find just the right moment. But I was not at all sure what the perfect moment was.

I was thinking too much. More than my brain could handle. Should I say it now? Or should I wait till the clock's minute hand has covered fifteen more minutes? But even after it had covered a hundred and fifty minutes, I was still waiting.

Every time I was about to spill it out, something would happen: the telephone rang, somebody knocked at the door and, if nothing else, some stupid things dragged my mom back into the kitchen. The one moment when no such thing happened. I just could not open my mouth.

"She's going to cry this time, if I don't do this," I told myself.

After lunch, I somehow gathered enough courage to initiate the dreaded conversation. Even though I thought it was quiet bizarre to ask my parents how they met and married each other, I could not think of a better way to bring up the subject.

"Omma, tell me one thing. How did you guys find each other and end up marrying?" I asked.

Mom and dad looked at each other, then at me and smiled. Parents are smart, and what we don't know is that they know what's going on in our minds. They had probably read, very easily, what the marquee on my forehead was displaying.

Still, they narrowed their story, and the moment that was over, Omma asked, "So how is yours getting started?"

I wondered if I should hide my face in the cushions, or say, "My story...? I don't have any," before my brain angrily told me, "come on, speak up, you fool!"

And, fortunately, gathering all my shy courage, I narrated my story so far. I even showed them her picture. I was expecting a lot of ifs and buts from my parents, but to my surprise nothing of that sort happened. Even Dawon had asked me more questions than my parents asked!

Mom was happy because, finally, her son was thinking about marriage. Dad wad happy because the toughest part – searching for a girl and his son's choice – was over. He was relieved, though he tried to sound quiet diplomatic. I was happy because, finally, I was able to het this thing out of my heart and place it in front of everybody. And Dawon, she was observing everything's reactions. She doesn't get influenced easily, and that's something I both like and dislike in her.

A couple of questions from both mom and dad, which I answered with confidence, and that was it. I had never thought that this toughest of hurdles would be over so quickly.

But before we left for Seoul, on Sunday evening, at my car, "we will analyze this, but it's good that you have become serious about your marriage."

"No issues. I understand your point," I said to him. Inside, though, I was thinking, "who cares dad!"

Sunday midnight, I reached my other home in Seoul. Searching out on my bed, I called Dae up.

"Mission accomplished," I said, waking her up. Those two words conveyed everything to her. And what did I get in response? A fusillade of kissed. The last ones were real passionate. That was the first time she kissed me on phone.

"Oh boy! So loud? No one is around, ah?" I asked.

She didn't answer my questions but said, " I feel like pulling you into my bed right now and kissing you madly."

Wow! She was so happy, mad and comfortable, knowing that I had finally told my family about her.

Another milestone in our love story was crossed. Both our families now knew about our affair. And, as usual, I was happy because my Buin was happy. But, as they say, "Love is a blend of different emotions." Soon an evening came when I made her cry. And then I cried because she was crying.

A/N:

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