It was my birthday the other day. Of course I didn’t celebrate as I just didn’t have enough strength to celebrate life when I was still mourning death. I know you aren’t happy about it and would have encouraged me to celebrate, but I just couldn’t, not this time. I would have to
pretend that I’m having fun, and pretending is the thing I hate most.
I also asked for a present, which I’m still waiting to receive – a new dream, where you would wish me a Happy Birthday and would give me a hug, just like this
Is that too much to ask? No, I’m sure it isn’t and I’ll be waiting as much as needed, even if it’s my next birthday. Because what’s a birthday, a relative value, nothing. It’s one day in lunar calendar, another in the Chinese calendar. And in fact when are we born? When we leave the womb on a scheduled C-section day, or natural birth day or when the conception occurs, or never at all, because we are eternal and never die and are never born…
I guess, there was one more reason why I didn’t celebrate. Once many years ago you asked me what would happen if you were to die in your 33, I said I would die in my 35. That was due to our age difference, as you are two years younger. Words and wishes of this sort have a very strong power. It is my 35 birthday. I’m not afraid. In fact I am amazed that I am still here. Given the relationship that I am now discovering we have and the power of this union I am totally bewildered that by some wondrous chance I wasn’t gone the same day, the same moment as you. I must have some really important stuff to deal with here if I continue to remain.
Well, if so, once again – Lead me, guide me, walk beside me. And don’t forget about my birthday present!