April 18 came around, and I quietly turned another year older. I’m only leaving this here as a record, because I wasn’t planning to celebrate my birthday anyway. There doesn’t really seem to be much reason to. Sitting alone in front of my laptop, watching some images that feel both unfamiliar and strangely familiar, has its own kind of mood to it—but it has nothing to do with anyone else.
I still remember my senior year of high school. Back then, I was busy preparing for the college entrance exam, and yet I still had a happy birthday celebration. Looking back at the photos from that time, I can’t help but smile. The studying was intense, but life felt full. I treasured every moment of happiness especially much.
Graduation is coming soon, and honestly, I still feel a little lost about the future. In senior year, there was only one goal: get into a good university. But now? It’s about finding a decent job, finding someone who can stay with me for life, and then living an ordinary, quiet life through the years. Maybe that sounds naive. Maybe it sounds realistic. Maybe it sounds like I don’t have a grand enough goal. None of that really matters. What matters is being happy.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I have no plans at all. I do have goals. I just don’t feel the need to say them out loud. It’s better to keep them in my heart and move toward them quietly, step by step.
Another year older—does that mean I’ve become more mature too? Lately, my mood hasn’t been very good, and a lot has happened. Maybe that’s just part of the test I’m going through. People have to grow up eventually. The things that should be let go really need to be let go. Holding on no matter what only ends up being pointless, and it just makes me tired. Why keep doing that?
My parents have been working so hard for me. My dad’s health isn’t great, and he’s still running around everywhere for the family. He never says much to me, but I know he’s exhausted. It’s time for me to start making something of myself.
So I’ll cheer myself on from here.