Nearly twenty hours on a train

I spent nearly twenty hours on a train yesterday. When I got off, I felt ten years older. The air outside was fresh and the sunlight bright, but I had so little energy that I could barely enjoy it or keep my eyes open.

Before long, my head felt ready to burst and my eyelids weighed a ton. I dozed on a park bench near the station. Children laughed nearby, and pigeons scattered through the park like stars, looking for food from visitors. The scene was lovely and miserable for me at the same time.

I do not think I want to repeat that journey. But breakfast near Zhengzhou station was excellent: hot pepper soup and steamed buns. I was still thinking about them, and feeling hungry, while writing this in the afternoon 😋

Home surrounded me with warmth as soon as I arrived. There was the floor heating, and then there was the lively, welcoming feeling of family. I lay down on the bed and fell asleep. Coming home feels like this every year. I love it, though I am a little wary of settling too comfortably into it.

After greeting my family, I arranged to see friends. It happens to be Valentine’s Day, and I invited a woman I knew from school to look at the lanterns and talk. I had not planned anything romantic, though the timing amused me. In the end, a date on the calendar cannot decide where a relationship goes; only the people in it can know what it means.

Coming home has also shown me how little I now have in common with some childhood companions, and how even some high-school friendships have faded. I do not feel too troubled by it. I have many things I want to do, and they will probably take longer than I expect.