He will listen to you pouring out a thousand words in one minute and still give a “proper” reply, as if he really understands what you prattle about. Love listens.
You are a kettle with hot water inside; he will not try to cool you down but show you that to love is to let you be. I know you go silent when you get angry, and he will know when you get angry. If he loves you, he will keep staying beside you until the moment you soften your nerves. Love stays.
You are a happy person. You will tell him a thousand things that could make you happy every day, and he will pretend, like I used to, that he doesn’t get bored of them. Love is playful and naughty sometimes.
I know it is not easy to live in another country, to feel like an outsider from time to time. They say the more words one has, the more powerful one is. You might not have many words in that language, but remember that you are powerful. People own their stories and you own yours. If he draws breath and watches his fellows for a while, he will know that the number of words one possesses does not define the ability to love. You are powerful because you dare to love and be loved.
You don’t know millions of words, millions of things in this world—things that he knows. Remind yourself that he doesn’t know millions of your experiences either. If occasionally he uses advanced words with you, your lifelong thirst for knowledge will offer you the persistence to learn them. He will not judge but will guide you for so long as it takes an oak to grow to timber size. Love uplifts.
You are not rich in the way our society defines wealth, but remember your mind is a fresh and green garden, full of colourful flowers and bees and butterflies. If he loves you, he will have enough courage to delve into that surprising quarry-enchanting mind.
You are an old soul. You always worry that you are slow like a snail under the rain. But if he loves you he will wait for you, whether on trains or pavements, and you will both enjoy these moments. Let me tell you that many times we let life pass by unnoticeably because we run, rush, jump, or even fly. It is necessary and more interesting to crawl through life too.
You grew up in a village. Your parents talked about how to cook cassava safely when you and your sisters tried to swim in the river with a banana trunk or fished clams in the ditch. We didn’t watch Western movies, but he will not patronise you when you repeat your questions with your big brown eyes. Most of your childhood was face to soil, feet on fields. Be proud of the beauty of our land.
You asked me if you look shallow. You don’t, my daughter. You dived deep into all the books we had in your mother tongue. You built your own community where thousands of the unread started to read, the unloved started to love. You are a hero. If he loves you, he wouldn’t mind walking through young hail to enter your sun-lit soul.
Do not worry about making mistakes when you speak to him in a foreign tongue. Imagine instead that you laugh at him when he struggles to pronounce your real name. I am sure he will. The only language anyone can understand is kindness. Do not worry if you do not get his joke, or know his dishes. Do not worry if you do not know his culture or have not excelled in his mother tongue. Because he, too, does not know your culture or your mother tongue. Love enlarges through sharing.
Keep your head up, and instead of wondering if he loves you, ask yourself if you love him. I can try to speak to you truthfully about this matter, but you might give your attention and belief proper to your instinct. My daughter, never allow yourself to fear anything other than the inability to give. You are the person who has the most capability to give. Even giving, sometimes, brings us grief. If he sits next to you and rubs your heart with compassion, you know you have found your man.
– Nikki Vo
Nikki Vo is a Vietnamese writer currently based in York, UK, taking an MA in Creative Writing at York St John University. Writing in English as a non-native speaker, her work explores identity, language, and cultural displacement through poetry and creative non-fiction. If he loves you, my daughter was inspired by her experience of living between languages and by the desire to reimagine care, and belonging through a father’s voice.