Once upon a time, there was a little girl.

One day, on the way to school, she came across a beautiful little pebble. It was white, smooth and pristine. Excited by her find, she picked it up and put it in her pocket. Just then, an idea came to her. She would collect a whole bottle full of such handsome pebbles, and give them to her future lover when they met.

From then on, every time she happened to find a pebble worthy of her collection, she would keep it in her very own bottle.

Time went on, and as the girl grew up, so did her collection. She smiled proudly whenever her bottle got heavier, confident in the knowledge that when he came - whoever he may be - he would love this gift.

One day during her teenage years, she found her friend crying. "What's wrong?" she asked. Her friend pointed on the ground. There were tiny beads strewn helter-skelter and several pieces of smashed glass - the remains of her friend's prized collection. "He broke up with me and threw my bottle on the ground. He said he hates my collection." She began to sob again.

The girl did her best, but her friend was inconsolable. So she opened her bottle, and fished out a pretty azure pebble - one of her favourites. "You can have this." Her friend was very touched, and her tears finally stopped.

That day, the girl realised that love comes in many kinds. From then on, she kept another bottle just for her family and friends.

Years went by, and soon, the girl could no longer find a bigger bottle for her lover's collection. Looking at the big bottle, filled to the brim with all the pretty pebbles she had found throughout the years, she suddenly felt sad. Perhaps he was never coming, and then what would she do with all these pebbles? A gift is not a gift until it is given to someone who truly cherishes it. And so, she began to paint the pebbles and transfer them to the "family and friends" bottle, to be given out as personalised gifts on special and sad days.

Still more time went by. Sometimes, there would come along a boy who stirred the girl's heart, and she would shyly present him her bottle. But each boy would smile and say, "Thanks, but sorry, it's not for me", and return it.

After each setback, the discouraged girl would not contribute to the lover's bottle for some time.

At the cusp of adulthood, the girl met a boy. The boy smiled at her shyly, and presented her with his collection of exotic candies. The girl was overjoyed. Finally, a boy had deemed her worthy of his own collection. So she kept it. But one day, she decided to open it up and try one candy. It was extremely sour, but at the very end, just as she was about to spit it out, there was a burst of sweetness. She did not like it. The girl was disappointed with herself, and confused. Would she ever know how to appreciate these exotic candies? If not, was she the right owner for his bottle? After many hours of consideration, she  took the bottle to the boy. Sadly, she said, "Thanks, but sorry, it's not for me", and returned it.

Around her, friends had spats with their lovers, parted and reunited. Some stayed together, but others had their own precious bottles smashed in front of them. The girl began to fear love, and question its worth.

Her own lover's bottle began to gather dust as the girl grew sad and disillusioned. Her friends and family comforted her. "He will come", they said with a nod and a smile. They were confident. She wasn't - not anymore.

Still, life goes on, so she turned her attentions to growing her friends and family collection. It was very rewarding, seeing the smiles on their faces whenever they received a pretty painted pebble, and unpainted ones too. It was a different kind of love, she knew, one that sometimes cracked the bottle but would never end with it getting smashed in front of her. And the best part was, she would always receive all kinds of gifts from each friend and family member's very own special collection. It kept her happy, widened her horizons, made her realise many important things.

But despite her best efforts, a part of her still yearned for his arrival, and she was convinced that she would not experience complete happiness until then. Occasionally, she would drop a new pebble into the dusty bottle. Whenever she felt discouraged with the long wait, she would take a pebble from the dusty bottle, paint it, and drop it into the other bottle.

With the passing of each decade, on her 20th, 30th, birthday, her loved ones would tell the forlorn girl, "He will come. Just a while longer."

After her 40th birthday, it became "You have us."

In the blink of an eye, it was time for the girl, now an old lady of seventy, to move into a home for senior citizens. Her oldest friend, the one who had received that pretty azure pebble all those years ago, came by her home to help pack her belongings.

In a forgotten part of the house, her old friend made a surprising discovery. There on the shelf and covered in dust was



She clasped the bottle in her hands, and silently cried for this silly, silly girl who had waited all her life for someone who never came.

*Update: Click here to read Part II.

Labels: egomaniac