Tricks Are For Kids
My girlfriend and I went to Tea Palace in Notting Hill for afternoon tea and cakes, then leisurely strolled the boutique-lined streets until we hit one of London's gems for Chinese food (no, not Hakkasan). After standing in a queue for almost an hour, we finally sat down and ordered the restaurant's specialty: Roast duck.
Roast duck, pork, and char-siu with rice. And on the menu for conversation: Men.
We told stories of the men we loved, the men who hurt us, the men who fooled us. Before long, we had worked up quite the appetite and proceeded to order the clay pot of double braised pork belly.
"Pork belly for take-away?" asked the waiter.
"No, for here. And also, add rice", I said, pointing to our empty rice bowls. The waiter betrayed a look of shock first, then smirked like he was impressed.
See, men who are up to tricks are up to the same old tricks. And girls who have been tricked can spend an entire evening dishing out the dirt over a clay pot of double braised pork belly. It seems that there is a certain kind of girl that is more susceptible to trickery, and it is the kind that believed so whole-heartedly in love of the noblest kind. After all, it takes a certain kind of innocence to love someone ecstatically, deeply, with devotion and without reserve. In a word: madly. Until one has been tricked. And suddenly, love is not as simple or open anymore.
And herein lies the question, which is whether or not one can ever love as purely again. The optimistic answer is yes, but it boils down to a matter of trust. And this is no small thing. The other question is whether or not men who are up to tricks can ever love purely, but this is a question that even they themselves cannot answer. They that fool others cannot be lovers of truth and thus most probably fool themselves as well. Either that or the only person he will ever really love is himself.
Years later, with an empty clay pot before us, we sip our tea in silence as young women reflecting on our girlhoods. A bit damaged, but still alive and stronger. And definitely wiser. We now know the tricks, have learned the tricks, even used the tricks out of hurt. But let's face it, tricks are for kids.
My girlfriend and I went to Tea Palace in Notting Hill for afternoon tea and cakes, then leisurely strolled the boutique-lined streets until we hit one of London's gems for Chinese food (no, not Hakkasan). After standing in a queue for almost an hour, we finally sat down and ordered the restaurant's specialty: Roast duck.
Roast duck, pork, and char-siu with rice. And on the menu for conversation: Men.
We told stories of the men we loved, the men who hurt us, the men who fooled us. Before long, we had worked up quite the appetite and proceeded to order the clay pot of double braised pork belly.
"Pork belly for take-away?" asked the waiter.
"No, for here. And also, add rice", I said, pointing to our empty rice bowls. The waiter betrayed a look of shock first, then smirked like he was impressed.
See, men who are up to tricks are up to the same old tricks. And girls who have been tricked can spend an entire evening dishing out the dirt over a clay pot of double braised pork belly. It seems that there is a certain kind of girl that is more susceptible to trickery, and it is the kind that believed so whole-heartedly in love of the noblest kind. After all, it takes a certain kind of innocence to love someone ecstatically, deeply, with devotion and without reserve. In a word: madly. Until one has been tricked. And suddenly, love is not as simple or open anymore.
And herein lies the question, which is whether or not one can ever love as purely again. The optimistic answer is yes, but it boils down to a matter of trust. And this is no small thing. The other question is whether or not men who are up to tricks can ever love purely, but this is a question that even they themselves cannot answer. They that fool others cannot be lovers of truth and thus most probably fool themselves as well. Either that or the only person he will ever really love is himself.
Years later, with an empty clay pot before us, we sip our tea in silence as young women reflecting on our girlhoods. A bit damaged, but still alive and stronger. And definitely wiser. We now know the tricks, have learned the tricks, even used the tricks out of hurt. But let's face it, tricks are for kids.
posted by Rebecca at
4:18 PM
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