January 1, 2010

At midnight on January 1st, 2010—a year later, when the night is deep and all is silent—I suddenly find myself longing to know how you spent those final 6,613 minutes of your life alone.

On January 5th, 2009, at 7:13 a.m. Madrid time, 2:13 p.m. Beijing time, you quietly slipped away in your sleep, just as you once quietly left the city that had nurtured you for twenty years. Sister Yin said you departed peacefully, and perhaps that is the only solace I have now.

You, so foolish and gentle, always liked to bury your secrets deep, leaving everything for yourself to bear. You kept it from me for so long, yet somehow, on the day you left, I was filled with unease.

I do not know if this counts as some kind of spiritual connection.

Perhaps all girls in love are a little foolish—meeting a boy they like, and suddenly nothing else matters.

My dear, do you know? Recently, a close friend of mine has been tangled in such emotions. She loves a boy very deeply, just as I once loved you, but so many people never realize how blessed they are.

Sometimes I truly don’t know how to comfort her; I can only watch as she spends her days in sorrow, drowning her troubles in drink.

There is something I have wanted to say: betrayal has no excuse; betrayal does not simply “happen by accident.” If someone chooses to betray you, there is no reason to linger. Even if one day you reconcile, things will never be the same, for no matter how the other tries to make amends, the shadow of distrust will forever linger in your hearts.

But such words are too cruel to say to a friend.

Besides, there is a saying: it is not about whether it’s worth it, but whether you are willing.

As long as your heart is willing, nothing else matters.

…

I do not know why I suddenly wanted to speak of this. Since you left, I have unconsciously built a thick wall around my heart; except for a few close friends, I have not touched, nor wished to touch, the world for a long time. And so, I cherish the few friendships I have left all the more.

December 30th, 2009: a class dinner, a crowd’s revelry, my solitary loneliness.

The old ends, the new begins; a new year, a new start.

I remember the year we made a promise beneath the Christmas tree.

For a lifetime, never to part.

So, my dear, if you can hear me, please accept my New Year’s blessing—and let me wish you a happy birthday in advance.

Written in the early morning hours of January 1st, 2010