23rd years in life. HBD to me.
And the rain keeps pouring down. Not making things any brighter.
The number keep increasing every year yet the saying stays the same:
Happy 23rd birthday to me.
In another way of saying, hello, you are 23 years old already, can you see that?
23 years old. 23 years of living. Have I ever wondered, what good have I ever done to life? To people in my life?
I remember myself writing the same thing 4 years ago, my heart still so full of dreams and hope and life, and then them all being replaced by despair and pain the next year, and the next with bitterness, and to this very moment.
I remember myself stumbling.
I remember falling.
I remember standing up.
Collapsing again.
Losing.
Weeping.
I remember seeing people walk in and out of my life. Letting them.
I remember changing.
Every single day going by was another change brought by fate, and I accept it with open arms. Challenges are no longer sweet. Just like every year, the smile stays put yet fragments of the once whole heart keep falling.
They are still here, mom and dad, sacrificing everyday for me, without getting anything in return. Have I ever feel ashamed at myself for that? Yes, yes I have.
Explains why I never stop trying.
Going to church everyday, receiving happiness from Mighty Father is a no more, and now the haunting past follows me at every step I take in life. Mourning it somewhat has become a second nature to me that I realized I can’t live without.
I have learned so much more bitterness. Giving up must be one of the hardest lessons.
Friends. Undefined concept, unstable faith. They come and go, we accept it, and get used to it. For those who have stayed even until now, right besides me, I thank you. It would never be enough to thank you, so I just said it once. All you have to do is to look at my heart, and you get my point.
For those who have left, farewell. No hard feelings, thank you very much for your time.
My family is still the keeper of my entire heart.
And God is always the keeper of my soul.
I hope today would be a nice memory for me to recall later on. I write on my birthday, not because I am trying to make myself important. No. I simply want to take a look back, and then at myself, to see who I have become today. Good or not enough, I still am thankful for my parents, and everyone in my life, for staying.
I can’t say I love you all, learning it is meaningless. I can only say I love you, the ones who own my heart and are willing to keep it.
Thank you for reading.
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Trời đổ mưa. Ngày em hai mươi ba.
Ngần ấy năm rồi, em tự hỏi,
cuối cùng thì mình đã làm được gì cho đời,
hay vẫn mãi chỉ là một vầng trăng khuất bóng lẻ loi?
23 năm rồi. Em thật tệ, em ơi.
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