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Of Late I Think Of My Folk

Some days ago, I texted the guy who hosted my blog for free and asked how he has been doing. He went back to Vietnam 4 months ago after maybe nearly 10 years living in the United States. He is one of a very few people I respect in Texas. While almost everyone will tell you how dumb you are when you date an abroad student (just like you) or you should get some fake marriage because that’s what a good child is supposed to do so you can pay your parents’ investment back, he simply told me to just do whatever makes me happy.

We’re not that kind of close friends. The number of times I have met him in Texas can be count on my two hands. He’s a tech guy while I’m all for communications, so we might not share many hobbies, but talking to him is always a pleasure. It reminded me that I’m not the only one in my old community to think this way, that even though I dislike most of his friends, he’s still a great guy to talk to though.

Four months ago was also the time I moved to Boston. The days I lived in Texas seemed like ages ago, but that four months bizarrely feel too short as if it passed by in a blink. Of late once in a while I miss Texas, I miss Iris and the lit highways, I miss those night rides and those olden days. Not that I’m fond of Texas because, you know, I never belong there. But after all, we would miss anyone or anywhere that holds a piece of our time, not even mention that Texas has given me a lot of happy time.

Did I tell you about our new house? It’s 45 minutes away from downtown Boston, which means it’s very far away. The highways we drive daily now are forest-lined. The house is in a very cheap neighborhood and maybe not too safe, it has some minor problems, but ain’t all rented house so? Long and us rented it together. We did a pretty heavy job to clean the house since it was very dirty, some corners were even disgustingly sticky. It is also not an ideal place for Long since it was too far away from anything and he doesn’t have a car. But on the bright side, we moved to this house just right when the Fall is unveiling her curtain and started to scatter her golden dust everywhere. As we are living in a suburban, recently I noticed that the leaf on our way to the city had started to change color. The golden, yellow and brown palette is replacing the deep green shade. The weather has also become more chilly.


(and tell you what, I started to feel like crying thinking about when I have to leave this place in a few more months. When we’re on the highways, I try my best to capture and mesmerize the scenes I see. This golden shade of the forests, the mountains, these friends, these days of bursting laughs, one day down the road I will have to leave them behind. I’m afraid not only of farewell but forgetting. One of the things my 25 years on Earth has taught me is that memories won’t stay forever. Some day I will forget what I’m feeling now. O’ why does it hurt so soon and so much thinking about it, my dear?)

On September 3rd (which is a fortunate day according to Long), we hosted what might be the best housewarming ever (or the first I have ever had). The gang gathered and talked about so many things. We laughed so much it felt like the night should never end. No one really wanted to go home. I wished that night could last a little bit longer too, not forever (forever is an overrated expensive thing), but a little bit longer.

Last night we came home late. I boiled 6 eggs and reheated some leftover Mai gave us. That’s it. It couldn’t be a simpler meal, but we did have a really good time eating together. Bear said it felt like home, that it felt so nice to have a family meal. Oh I love that boy who does all the cuddling, who reminds me to stop working to give him a hug and a kiss only so that I remember I need them too.

I don’t know which is my favorite season. Is it Spring, when we walk out of the coldness to celebrate brave green buds trying to sneak out of the branches and blossom? Or is it Summer when we can go to the beach (THE BEACH!), lie down under the sun and eat watermelon? Or is it the first half of Winter when the Christmas lights are lit and we miss our family as hell because those Christmas lights make us feel like a poor lonesome cowboy who are a long way from home?

Or is it Autumn with the gentle foliage when even people around us seems a bit more mellow?

I think I will see ample new places in my lifetime, which are great and all, but the Autumn of America will always make me want to cry a bit.

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Published in Diary Eng


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