I am not 50 years old. Who knows I won’t have a decent job in London one day?
Youth means hope, uncertainty, potentiality, and adventure.
I am stuck in Canada for 2 years due to pandemic. From the bright side, I finish my Co-op job reluctantly and decide to work on thesis finally. That shows I am alive and making value to my life. From the bad side, I am struggling to make myself good in the boring, static, and meaningless life here.
The good thing is I never have a thought to hurt myself or others. And, I strive to distract my attention to my boyfriend who should be able to cross border after August 9 without certain meeting date.
Thus, I am making new friends who can listen to me and meet occasionally in person in Vancouver. After meeting hundreds of jerks online, I got some nice and responsible ones in a group. I found I am cared and supported by many people. If we set the boundary at the beginning and allow to talk frankly, a real friendship is expected.
I have to admit that I am at the lowest point in the life. I am at the age to be seen, praised, valued, and loved but the pandemic reminds where I came from and who I am.
Not like tons of people from China here, I have no plan to go back no mater there is pandemic or not. But the origin tells me I don’t have travel freedom. If I leave Canada, I am probably rejected by the border to return. Therefore, I am the one waiting for the workaholic boyfriend. The date to meet and the days to stay depend on him. Before Canada reopens to USA, my identity has no chance to let him enter under quarantine.
Naturally, I am unable to pretend I am fine when I see someone traveling a lot as Canadian during the pandemic. Travel becomes an option. Reunion is an option. As we see, new Hongkong migrants flow to UK, Taiwan, Canada, and America during the whole pandemic.
I can’t help thinking who I will be at my 50s. Will I have every thing? Identity, house, vehicle, a stable and high paid job, and a white partner. Or, I still have nothing at 50.
The future apparently lies in front of me. A 30-year old me.
This pandemic teaches me two lessons. I am still young. I am the one to make my fate and decide my future at 50s. Also, I keep reminding myself what is a trash life: when I am 50s, my partner is a Chinese and I still stay in Canada.
To avoid the trash life and wasting my current time, I should stand up and fight.
Youth means unpredictability. Who knows I won’t work in London at 50 one day?
