2 – A Woman's Happiness Depends on Her Husband
Rathana, a young woman, was deeply immersed in her thoughts while driving through Kampot's winding roads. She held the steering wheel with confident skill, yet her gaze was unfocused—her mind elsewhere. She couldn't help but reflect on the sudden appearance of Chamroeun, a man from her past whom she once had feelings for. The possibility of rekindling those emotions stirred her heart, raising questions she hadn't expected to confront.
Another woman who was also part of Rathana's life was Somnary. That same day, Somnary took Rathana to visit her father in the countryside. The trip gave Rathana the chance to escape from the weight of her emotional turmoil and reexamine her thoughts about her path ahead. The journey ended with both women feeling the release of pent-up emotion.
Somnary had long dreamed of seeing Rathana fall in love. The man Rathana had in mind was not just any man—he was dignified and came from a respectable family. Rathana had once promised herself that if she ever fell in love again, it would be with someone worthy of her hopes and dreams. She believed she had finally found that in Chamroeun. And though her heart had found some joy in thinking about him, there were still deep uncertainties she couldn't ignore—chief among them being: Was he truly the one she was meant to love?
Somnary gently nudged Rathana to reflect on her past with Chamroeun, back to their younger days—back to the year 1963...
Rathana questioned herself:
"Am I really happy? Am I really in love with him? Do I truly want to marry someone like him?"
Her heart battled with itself. She had always thought she could rationally choose a life partner, but love didn't obey reason. Memories of her father's warnings echoed in her heart:
"If you marry a man without truly loving him, you'll suffer for a long, long time."
Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered to Somnary:
"Somnary, I don't know what to do anymore. Am I foolish for not choosing Chamroeun? Or am I foolish for ever thinking I loved him?"
Somnary gently said:
"You're not foolish, Rathana. You just have a heart that seeks the truth. If Chamroeun is not the right one, don't let pressure force you into a loveless life. You deserve happiness that comes from love, not obligation."
Rathana stared blankly ahead and repeated to herself,
"I don't know anymore. I just don't know. Maybe I was wrong all along."
Her heart still held questions—many of which had no answers. She began to realize that maybe she had never truly loved Chamroeun, only the idea of him. Perhaps, she thought, real love wasn't as simple as choosing a "good man." And even if he was "good," did that mean he was right for her?
Somnary, calm and steady, reassured her:
"You'll find clarity, Rathana. But don't lie to yourself—if you don't love him, don't marry him."
(Page 13–14 closing the scene)
Rathana said softly:
"I think I've made up my mind... I won't marry Chamroeun. Even if he's everything society expects of a perfect man—I just don't love him."
She remembered something her father once told her:
"If you don't love the man, don't marry him. Better to live alone than in a loveless union."
She smiled faintly through tears and said:
"Let him go... I loved him once. But not anymore. Now I want to be free. Free to feel, free to choose, free to love."
This translation aims to preserve the emotional tone and flow of the original Khmer text. If you'd like a polished literary adaptation or side-by-side comparison with the Khmer, let me know!"So it is true: in life, attachment to the land means being bound to eat from it, and living by it. But as for the greatest attachment—the love of one's homeland—does that mean love for one's land is greater than love for another? Can love of land surpass all else? Love for one's land can sometimes uproot a man—love for his land is a profound feeling, indeed. If that love is true, it will always stay with him… But when deep attachment develops, does that mean he must forsake all else? Oh! I am torn between patriotism and my duty to another man. A woman, on her part, must put aside her affection while fulfilling her obligations… That is, she must swallow her feelings while going about her duties!
Chamroeun, in my heart, carries no thoughts of another's affection. He is like a distant relative—respectful, loyal. But then, what of his commitment to the cause of his country? If he has pledged himself to the nation, must he attach himself more to his country than to me?
Yes! Yes! He must be loyal to our land with all his strength. So what will he give back to me as a token of his love? The love of land again? The love of land so pure and complete that he forgets me? My own feelings have faded for him. I cannot fight him, Somnary. If Chamroeun…
But if Chamroeun is still devoted to the nation, then I am devoted to him!
—But what if his obligation to the country outweighs our bond—yes?!
—Then I will be the one to sacrifice, I suppose… but that would mean the root of my own life is torn away for the sake of his duty.
"…Oh Somnary, I want to test whether he truly loves me, or loves only his cause… I want to know whether—from duty, hunger, shame…?"
Rathana found herself on a mountain peak, overcome by sorrow. She stood on the summit and wept, her tears soaking through the clouds drifting over the mountain pass… Her knees trembled. She thought of that attachment—either to land or to love. Should she yield to one or the other?
The young soldier pulled her into his arms. Even in that tender moment, Rathana felt torn. She gasped—her heart pounding with conflicting loyalties. He gently brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled warmly. She smelled his uniform and felt once again the pull of his presence.
"…Oh! I feel the conflict! His loyalty… his laughter… his embrace… Slowly, he held me close, and my heart ached even more."
A moment later, Chamroeun spoke softly:
"Rathana, tell me—do you not love me anymore, because of my duty to my country?"
She trembled and looked away.
"I… I don't know… my heart is confused by the ideals I was taught… The highest virtue—the love of one's country—what of it? Does that mean less love for a man? Less love for me?"
Their longing did not lessen. He held her hand, and she clung to him, afraid to speak the truth. Her heart was breaking. She thought she could sacrifice for his sake—but now… now she can't even breathe, thinking maybe she is no longer enough.
This is a nuanced, emotional translation aimed at capturing the internal conflict between patriotism and romantic love, and the longing and heartbreak intertwined with it. Let me know if you'd like adjustments or an alternative stylistic approach!