9:19 AM, November 15

I think my blog is blocked by the paranoid Chines government. I can still update it but cannot view the site.
After being away for 6 years, I now realize I love Beijing so much that I don’t care about the polluted air, the conjested traffic, the population, etc. Sitting in the cab trapped in the traffic jam the other afternoon, looking out of the window, suddenly found out now I am only onlooker. I checked Visitor in the form I had to fill when I enter the custom, oblivious of its implication that I am not a participant anymore.
Digged up the dusty box filled with my stuff. Found my journals and the letters from the friends in Wuhan after I moved to Bejing. Took a long trip to the memory lane from 10 PM to 3AM the next morning. Slept a little and woke up at around 5 AM. Now sitting in Starbuck sipping black coffee, and enjoy the access to internet that was not available for the past few days.
Turns out nostalgia does not get along with me. Grandma gave me my first journal when I was on my 6th grade, and my trip last night started from there. I saw the agony caused by the endless homeworks, some pieces of bitter memory I had with my aunt who I lived with when my parents were working in Italy, the fear and hate we had toward our Chinese teacher who had been in charge of our class in junior high for two years, the sweet strong precious bond with the girl friends and boys from our class, my troublesome first crush that went sour because of our inexperience, and the heartbreaking separation from my friends in Wuhan after my parents came back to China… It pains me to finally become an observer of how close I was with the girls, how we supported each other and then how it all dissipated after I moved away.
And then there are the letter from you. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them the first time I tried. I sudden found myself reading them from a different perspective as before, and started to really comprehend the messages. Maybe because I’ve grown, the words echos in my heart, only it’s six years later. Seems like we are two trains running on a pair of parallel tracks. I admire your speed and engine, but can’t never see what you carry inside. Now I think I can, and arrive at the same station, but you’ve already gone. Maybe you were there six years too early or I am six years too late. There are some moments in our lives that seem to be trifle then however a different decision we made then could completely change the course of our own history. But it only occurs to us years later, leaving us asking ourselves the useless question: what if.
It is unreasonable for me to request your present here. Please do disregard it. Keep in touch though, love the way you use Chinese language. Mine has been deteriorating.