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On September 18, 2013, yes on my birthday, a young man invited me to sit down with him in a round table and have lunch together.
He shook my hand, which he rarely did - he didn't even touch me lots, greeting a happy birthday.
While we ate, we talked.
We usually talk, but never as deep as that day.
We both talked about our fathers, who already passed away many years ago.
I don't usually talked about my dad. Because it makes me teared up and I don't like crying.
But we did.
And then he wished me a beautiful thing.
"I wish you'd die young."
To die young is my wish.
Because I don't want to live long.
It looks exhausting to stay in one body for that long with that old soul.
But I've never met one who have that same thought with me.
And it just always stay in certain place in the back of my mind since then.
This morning I woke up with his kind words again and I feel like need tk write this down here.
I want to remember that for once, I met a man who dreamt the same dream as me, even it's only about death.