A Love Story

Chapter 12

Reena

It's a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Gray clouds hang low over the city, casting a gloomy light everywhere. The aroma of simmering vegetables fills the room. The soft light filtering through the window touches the wooden countertops. Kryzella stands at the counter, chopping vegetables slowly and carefully. The steady rhythm of the knife on the cutting board contrasts with her distracted thoughts.

Earlier this week, Kryzella had a conversation with our grandmother that lingers in her mind. "Lola, how did you and Lolo start dating?" she asks, her voice filled with a blend of curiosity and respect.

Grandma Dina's eyes sparkle with the light of fond memories. "Ah, hija, it wasn't like today. Your Lolo courted me properly. He visited our house, brought flowers, sang harana under my window, and asked my parents for permission before we even thought about dating."

Kryzella leans in, eager to hear more. "What did you think of all that? Did it seem old-fashioned to you?"

Her grandmother smiles, her gaze distant as if seeing the past unfold. "At first, perhaps. But as time went on, I saw it for what it was-a true expression of love and respect. It showed that he valued me and our traditions."

Kryzella nods, absorbing the weight of her grandmother's words. "I want something like that for myself. I want to honor those traditions and show respect for my family."

The warmth of her stories leaves a lasting impression on Kryzella's heart-a vision of love rooted in tradition and respect, something she deeply longs for.

Suddenly, her phone rings from the living room, breaking her daydream. She sets the knife down, quickly washes her hands, and moves to grab her phone. As she answers the video call from Philip, her expression shifts from thoughtful to serious. I watch as she engages with him, her focus now entirely on their conversation.

"Hey, bubs," Philip's voice comes through the speakers, cheerful and bright. "How's your day going?"

Kryzella forces a smile, her gaze drifting around her kitchen as if searching for the right words. "Hi, bubs. It's been okay. I was just thinking about some things."

Philip notices the tension in her demeanor and leans forward slightly, concern etched on his face. "What's on your mind?"

Kryzella takes a deep breath, her fingers playing with the edge of the kitchen counter. "I've been thinking about us and how different our views are on courtship."

Philip's brows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I want us to follow the traditional way, like how my Lola and Lolo did it. It's important to me to honor those customs," Kryzella explains, her voice steady yet tinged with emotion.

Philip's expression shifts to one of mild surprise. "You mean, like me visiting your house, bringing gifts, and maybe even singing under your window? That sounds... really old-fashioned. We're in a different time now."

Kryzella's face tightens, her eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and longing. "It might seem old-fashioned, but it's a significant part of my culture and how I was raised. It's about showing respect for my family and our traditions."

Philip sighs deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he considers her words. "I understand where you're coming from, but I think we should create our own way of doing things. We don't have to stick to old customs just because they're traditional."

Kryzella's disappointment is clear, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It's not just about creating something new; it's about respecting where I come from. I need you to understand that courtship in my culture isn't just a formality; it's a way of showing respect and commitment."

Philip looks thoughtful, his gaze wandering as if searching for the right approach. "I want to respect your culture, Kryzella, but I also want to be true to myself. I'm not sure how to balance both."

Their conversation progresses with noticeable tension, each struggling with the weight of their cultural differences. The sound of the rain tapping against the window adds a sad background to their discussion. As Philip's phone buzzes, a reminder of his busy schedule, he glances at the screen and sighs.

Kryzella takes a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I'm not asking you to abandon who you are, Philip. I just need you to understand that these traditions mean a lot to me. It's how I connect with my heritage and my family."

"I get where you're coming from, Kryzella," Philip says, frustration in his voice. "But it feels like you want me to change everything. Can't we find a way that respects both of our views?" He checks his vibrating phone and sighs. "I've got to run to a meeting. Can we talk about this later?"

Kryzella nods, her heart heavy as she tries to mask her disappointment. "Sure. I hope we can find a way to bridge this gap."

As the call ends, I watch Kryzella's face, still marked with frustration, as she puts her phone down. Her movements become mechanical as she finishes preparing her meal, her mind clearly elsewhere. The kitchen, once a safe space, now feels like a place where unresolved tensions stay.

The next day, Philip reaches out again, his voice carrying a tone of earnestness. "I've been thinking," he starts, "Maybe I didn't fully appreciate what you were asking for. I want to understand more about your traditions and make an effort to honor them."

Kryzella's face brightens slightly, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. "That means a lot to me, Philip. I know it might not be easy, but I appreciate your willingness to try."

As their conversations grow more frequent, Philip genuinely dives into understanding Kryzella's culture, researching traditional courtship practices and seeking advice from her friends and family. Each of his efforts marks progress in bridging the cultural gap between them. This chapter is only the beginning of their journey, but it's clear that both are dedicated to blending their worlds with mutual respect and understanding, despite the ongoing differences.