10 years, what does 10 years mean to you? 10 years — a decade, seems to be long, but also short when you look back. Time does fly, doesn’t it? 10 years can change people a lot, 10 years. Where were you 10 years ago? Where are you now? Where will you be in 10 years? I am at the point where I don’t know where I will be next, however, I did love every single minutes I spent in the US. I appreciate everyone I met in the past 10 years, believe it or not, each every single one of you that I met made a huge impact in my life.
Recently, I found my diaries from 10 years ago. It was dark, it was rather terrifying. I want to organize my past 10 years and pay a tribute to my life in the US.
I don’t know if I will or even I can still stay in the US. If not, I only know that I will return one day.
My life has been a cheesy pop song from the beginning, I love pop, occasionally I also dig into rock. Here is how my story started.
2010, Aug. 9, I landed in the SFO, US. It is funny that I was all prepared to see everything in English, however, that huge Chinese writing in that airport suddenly makes feel like I am not so far away from home. My mom was companying me when I first arrived the US, just like any worrying parents, not going to say that my parents were sending me to a completely different country, a place that miles away from my home. Initially I also objects it, abandon all of my friends to go to a completely different country. I said my goodbyes when I was leaving home, all the late night stay up right before that. I would stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning to talk to my friends online, saying how much I would miss them. I thought everything would still stay the same even though I went to the US, but things changed. It changed a lot, I changed a lot.
August is my favorite month in the whole year, August is the beginning of the fall, fall is the start of changing colors of the nature. My birthday is in August, and that was my first time spending my birthday in a total foreign place. I know how much my parents sacrificed to let me to be in the US, I also know that why they did it. It was just scary. When the last day my mom was staying with me in the US, I cried my eyes out. We said our goodbyes, we hugged, and I told her that I will be OK. My mom was sitting in that red CRV, and I was standing on the curb side of the road. I tried my best to keep my tears inside my eyes. I was thinking, maybe, just maybe if my mom never saw me cry, she would feel better. I just want to help my parents out. My whole life, I lie because I wanted my parents not to worry about me because I know they have enough things to worry about; but at the same time, that heavy burden of I need to help them also is killing me all the time. I couldn’t express my actual feelings, tell people what I need help. The moment when the car started to drive away, I started balling out, I stood on the curb until the red CRV is out of my sight, I cried for hours, sitting at the curb side. I am all alone now. It is just me against the whole world kind of feeling. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to cook, I don’t know pretty much anything on my own. I slowly went back to my dorm room. A new place, a whole new world where people don’t know about my past can help me, I can just be this whole new person.
My life in the US started on that day, alone. Starting August, 2010.