Great. A beautiful day.

I woke up and smelled some bad signs. I broke my knees yesterday – well, what actually mattered to me was that my trousers were torn. I told him about my broken knees so that he cared about me more, but I’d still need to buy new trousers, with the money I planned on a cup of milk tea to celebrate my birthday today.

But it would just be a beautiful day. Not because my parents would buy me anything for my birthday, but that, I suppose, someone else would.

What would he do for my birthday?

I was wondering about this all the way from my home to my classroom. Gifts would cost him money. A little surprise would be enough, and anything from him could be a surprise.

“Do you have anything to tell me?” I asked him when we had lunch. Shy and smiling, “not yet”, he said, leaving me an afternoon with more imagination. Two weeks were gone but I could still remember the first few nights we spent together studying in a classroom as desk mates. I could still remember the look on his face when I said to him that I think I feel so comfortable to be with you, and he knew what I meant. I could still remember the dark light of the street lamp we walked by when he didn’t know what I was going to tell him that night, and the color of the sky when he said yes to me. Chance, my birthday would be a chance. The last night we had when we were in the same class, he said when I wanted to cry, I could cry in his arms, and that my crying should be a chance. He must be planning to do anything for me because he wouldn’t lose his chance.

We didn’t usually have dinner together, but at dinner time yesterday he went to the school library with me at my invitation, and we didn’t mention whether we would go there again today. Maybe he was already there waiting for me. Maybe with a cake that could make up for my lost milk tea. Maybe with roses along the way that would picture him in my dreams. At least I would see his beautiful smile in a minute that was often imaginary. Flowers would be the most romantic thing in this world if he’d like to send them to me, but his smiles were better because he once smiled at me.

And that was how a feeling crept into my mind, a feeling that this world could be crashing down in the next moment when I’d still be dreaming impossible dreams. Nothing was waiting for me in the library, nothing but the ceaseless annoying people walking by me towards their seats whose faces I never knew.

So I stumbled back to my classroom. Oh my! That’s IT! A card with a dried flower tied to it lay still on my desk under my textbook, and pink which I always disliked shone like the golden old times that he spent with me at the beginning of this relationship less than two weeks ago. This would be the best response from him for my birthday. Any particular gifts or fragrant roses would be too expensive. Any cakes would be too ordinary. Any oral happy birthday would be too perfunctory. A fine card with things that he wanted to tell me would be the best thing for my best birthday ever - with him. But what would he have written besides happy birthday? I felt it might be I miss you. The other day I texted him when he was going to bed, asking if he would like to say anything to me, and he was confused. Definitely I didn’t give the answer too quickly; I tried to let him guess but he was just wanting to sleep. “How could you not know what I want you to say? You can simply tell me that you miss me…” He didn’t respond but I supposed he had seen that the next morning. And right now, I just couldn’t stop myself from grinning like a stupid little child who saw candy that could be the best thing in this world at some moment. Feeling my heart beating so clearly in my chest, I counted to myself: three, two, one…

This card was not from him. Then, maybe a bigger surprise at night was waiting, something so great, just so great that he prepared for a whole day.

When I tried to tell him that I fancy you, I wanted him to tell me the same thing, although I didn’t make it to spell out my words; and when I told him I wanted him to text me I miss you, I was missing him way too much, everyday from morning till night, from a glance or rarely a smile at me to the ring of my phone when he texted me; I just wondered what he was thinking all this time. I thought that he understood all of these. I wish he does.

I’d never heard my heart beating this fast ever since the first few beautiful days of this relationship were gone, the days when I paced back and forth and hesitated at his front door, when he walked and talked relaxingly and swept away my worries. I’ve still got one hour left before the end of my birthday today. He could send me text messages if he wants. Please just a paragraph would flatter me.

“Don’t you wanna say anything to me?”

“What do you want me to say this time?”

“Don’t you feel that today is a bit different?”

“Yeah the new dish at lunch tasted not bad.”

…

“Don’t you think that you forget about something today?”

“I won’t forget about you and everything else would be ok.”

“Then don’t you think that you forget something about me?”

“… oh my!!! So sorry. I’ll buy you gifts after this weekend. Do you want anything particularly these days, or …”?

Great. But you don’t have to.