Children of Winters

I always like colder weathers. Winter is my season. Snow is close to my soul.

I like snow, the way they fall, weightlessly; coffee shops in a winter day, with large windows facing street or the park, filled with people, sitting and chatting; afternoon sun, and the red gloves and scarf; and the thought of a warm place or a memory of a lovely dinner at a cosy restaurant that lasted until late into the night.

I long to go to Montauk in Winter after I watched the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind the DVD that D gave me, for I love the snow on the beach, the bleakness, and the icy lake. I like stories that start and end in winter.

When you kiss at winter night you feel the warmth and the burning more, and wanting them, even more. We kissed a lot in winter.

I am happier in Winter, like puppies with lots of fur of their own. Maybe becuase I was born in end of January in a cold morning in Beijing. And Winter is the time of Chinese New Year as well, a time of fire crackers, new clothes, feast, families, a best time one could have as a kid.

I am writing this because, by tomorrow, or by today, since I am finshing writing this at this time, my birthday, I will become a cat. No, I will just be wearing red and think that it is a new year for me and I shall embrace it with love and smile. For I was never so true to myself and to others. It takes me a while to get here, but here I am, finally. It it a good way to greet your birthday, truthful to your heart.

I am looking at it, like holding it on my hands, the days to come, wondering, with calm and grace and wit and courage, to know that I am one year older and wiser, to know that I remain curious and passinate about life, to remain an innocent girl sometime but become a woman at time called for, be sure of what I can, strive for what I want to be, give what I have and want can be taken, clear of what I want, but never assume what I deserve.

You can't help looking back at your life when you reach another year of age, especially a time when you are expected to know things better. I am still far from the age when Confucious says man is beyond any confusion-he said lot of other things too. I doubt I ever will be beyond any confusion. I doubt I will ever be the same. Actually, this past 10 months, I have been growing up quite some, call it a crash course, call it forced self reflection and meditation, but I am grateful, despite all that growing pain and the pain for missing someone so immensely, I am grateful that I finally saw your smile again, your smile that is really cute.

I lived through what you went through before, time and time again, break up, heart break, facing it alone, facing it alone and smile during the day, at work, among strangers.

I was too self protective to be as compassionate and empathetic as I thought I was and should be.

I talk too much sometime, sometime talk before I think, just like writing long blog posts. Silence is gold, thinking before reaction is golden.

Everything we do or say has a consequence. Hiding things or keeping silent over things you should speak out are as damaging as lying, no matter what you say otherwise.

Love is at its best when it has a name.

I lived my life with more guilt than I thought.

The things I regreted that we did not do when we were together is small things like having a dance with you and laugh my heart out, loudly, with no guilt, shamelessly.

I no longer ask what if, I thank for the known and had.

I have been a stalker type on several occasions. I did go look at the light from the relevant windows and felt better, although I never stalk with night guggles on my head, some idea I read from a girl's blog and it cracked me up and made me feel better to know that I am not the only crazy one.

Confession makes the sinner unsinful. Honest is the only way to live this life.

People no longer make me feel intermidated or inadequate. I am more at ease with myself or people around me. It is a state one reach after one realize what is really important in their life, especially when you know it might be lost.

I met the Clinton's in an art opening, I blushed afterwards for calling Hillary Ms Clinton instead of Senator Clinton--I felt shameful as woman to call her that. I still feel nervous and say the wrong things, but I no longer feel underserving. We are all just people, insecure in our own ways, but I don't look up to anyone anymore, nor do I look down.

No one has owernship of anyone. Their love, their affection and even their friendship are gifts that you can never take for granted.

I love Octpus and Mushrooms. I still judge wine based on price and could never remember what I had last time. I point when I order. I miss D when I order.

A big ego that felt hurt is a monster in feed. Fear of rejection is a deformed baby. I had both of them inside me before. It made me needy and ugly.

It is a choice of doing what ifs all day long, or celebrating what was there, improving myself and hold my hope high, for life.

The best film I saw this year is Pan's Labyrinth, it is like a darker Spainsh version of Spirited Away, only this one, is for the girl to go back, the latter is for the girl to get out. I wish to have a magic chalk, with which we open doors at places of impossible or in times of darkness.

For the first time in my life, I did some volunteering work, I felt purposeful and useful, not just exchanging my time for a pay check and a greencard. Living real, with a heart, is so much better than living by fantasizing.

My life has been enriched by people with words, beautiful or witty ones, here, on this blogsphere. But I lost the voice of D, and his touch. I am waiting, while living.

It is time to face up, it is no longer emotional landmines all over the city, so two charming girl friends were with me at ESCA tonight, having the fantastic tasting menu paring with wine for my birthday, first time ever since my last and first visit, with D and Kafka on the Seashore.

Surprisly, Sea Urchin was on the menu and I just absolutely--love it.

It began to snow after we sat down, as if I called for it, as if it happened just for me, a real snow, a no nonsense one, a one that was eager to please, as if to tell me something about its secret love or late arrival to this city. But it made it, on my birthday.

My friend offer to buy me another drink after we got out of ESCA. I said no thank you. I want to enjoy this moment with myself. I walked back from the restaurant, the same walk D and I took that night, after our dinner, along 9th avenue. I felt the snow on my face, the way they settle on the once bear tree branches, greeting me quietly, make the street quieter but so much more beautiful. I felt so much in love.

There is something very romantic with this city while it snows, like when you walk on the bridge of Paris, alone.

As I am posting this, the snow continues outside my window, I put on the music of Ryuichi Sakamoto, and felt a long way to come here, yet, here and now, I am peaceful, with my boots off, my beautiful but itchy dress off. I am home, warm and cosy, at a winter night. There is nothing better, at the moment. I tell myself no heartache, being grateful, at this day.

Toast to us all, the childern of Winters.