Yesterday was supposed to be about another failed interview.
Instead, I came home thinking about Zinuo.
It was strange.
Back at university, I was the one everyone noticed first.
I was loud, confident and always had something to say.
Zinuo was the quiet girl. She rarely spoke unless someone asked her a question.
If anyone had told me twenty years ago that one day I'd be sitting across from her, wondering what she had figured out about life, I would have laughed.
But that's exactly what happened yesterday.
It wasn't that she looked younger.
She didn't.
We're both in our forties now.
Life leaves its marks on everyone.
What surprised me was something else.
She looked... comfortable.
Comfortable with herself.
Comfortable with where she was.
Comfortable with life.
I don't remember the last time I felt like that.
Last night, after dinner, I made myself a cup of tea and sat on the sofa.
The little white box she gave me was still sitting on the dining table.
I looked at it for a while but didn't open it.
For some reason, I wasn't thinking about the gift.
I was thinking about her.
What happened over those twenty years?
We both left China.
We both built a life in Sydney.
We both got older.
So why did she seem lighter than me?
I even caught myself feeling a little jealous.
Not because she had more.
Because she seemed to need less.
Before we left the café, she smiled and said,
"Same time next Tuesday?"
I said yes without thinking.
Now I know why.
It wasn't the coffee I was looking forward to.
It was the conversation.
Because I have a feeling...
she hasn't told me the real story yet.