Birthday

Today is your birthday, the sun is shining brightly outside the doors and windows, and the temperature is very low. Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking out, the sunlight is just like paint splashed on the ground, flowing slowly on the ground with time.

I haven't forgotten your birthday, year after year, just as you haven't forgotten my birthday in forty years. There are seven days before and after. On my birthday, the cake that my mother made for you has not been eaten yet. Of course, it is impossible to make another one, and no one is interested in blowing candles and singing a song with the remaining cake. So my birthday Often confiscated, like those embarrassing festivals that only commemorate no holidays.

It's no surprise that birthdays feel so frozen. It's just numbness and adaptation, not necessarily like it. You know, often only you remember, and suddenly give me some strange gift. Remember that one year you gave an oversized shirt, one year a novel Pride and Prejudice, one year a dozen socks, one year nail clippers. I'm used to looking for symbols in gifts. I can't always guess what you mean, but you said: a gift is a gift, what's the point?

Yes, a gift is a gift, even if you give me a pack of toilet paper, the most real meaning is that you care about this day and this brother. Brotherhood is an opportunity given to us by fate, an opportunity for us to be closer than other people in this world. During our time in this world, we have lived up to this opportunity and have always cherished each other.

I'm a dull person, and I haven't given you anything particularly surprising. I gave you a pen in memory, but you said you couldn’t use it, so you couldn’t write it; you like drinking tea, so you got the Book of Tea by Lu Yu, and you said:

"I don't understand, I didn't turn it over."

I also know that what you send may not be what you like. That represents me, and I give myself to you.

I've always been by your side, and you've always been in my heart. You understand, and so do I.

This year is particularly cold, wearing a pullover sweater and a wool coat, but still shivering. Others may find it strange to me, but I know that my remaining life has no capital to keep out the cold, just like when you finally hugged me and said pain and cold. These pains and colds cannot be understood by the people next to them, and they can only choose to believe or not to believe, and believing will not relieve you. We will all end up withered, and we will all grow into a different form in disease.

A lot of emotions come out of this. If you are still here this year, you are 44 years old. Mr. Wang Dingjun said that according to the English transliteration, it should be "Fu Di Fu", which is very good. I am two years older than you, and I am a "blessed land". I should be cautious and down-to-earth. But I don't want to move anymore, this world is too cold, maybe it's not the temperature, it's the wind, the air changes a little bit.

My dear, only limited edition sister, happy birthday!