“Tell me something about August, anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything.”
“Alright, then. But let me ask something beforehand,”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Why August?”
“I thought you already now that August is my anthem. I mean, that’s one of the best songs from Taylor.”
“That’s such a template. I do know August is one of Taylor’s best song, but that isn’t the real reason, you clever.”
“You got me.”
“It’s always lovely to hear you swearing “you clever” to me.”
“Thanks for always giving me a heartwarming prayer, even when you’re mad. Thanks for always using a good phrase to swear instead of bad words. Thanks for not letting your bad thoughts come out of your mouths. Thanks for believing that every word that comes from our mouths can be a prayer so that you will only say the good one. Thanks for keeping it that way.”
He turned his head, looked at me, and then smiled.
The answer never comes from my mouth. But I bet he already knows because the answer is obvious.
It’s because of him. It’s always him.
I remember the first time I moved to Vancouver a few years ago. I thought Kelowna was better, but I changed my mind in a blink of an eye. Someone played my favorite song while sitting in the green-lush grass in Stanley Park. Well, I did not expect that my hippocampus would be able to get such an exquisite memory at that time.
The guitar riff for Edge of Desire, do you know how hard it is to play that song? I got my fingers hurt because of that. But damn, someone played it so effortlessly with his old guitar under the summer sunset in Vancouver? The description did not do it justice because that was too … magical.
I watched him playing with his guitar from two meters away. From that moment, I repeatedly told myself that “this August will be … different.”
I braced myself to sit beside him.
“Wow. John Mayer is going to have another rival, I guess.”
He put aside his guitar and turned back. “Oh, hi. Thanks. Do you like this song?”
“I love it … so much. I once heard that John Mayer’s voice is good to hear during the night. So, I play Edge of Desire before sleeping because it’s just so … calming.”
“Girl, love is such a strong word.”
“But … that’s the fact. I love Edge of Desire so much. When I had a bad day, listening to it helped me to transform the dark thoughts in my mind into luminous diamonds.”
“Well, the analogy is not bad. That’s cool. Do you live here, or … are you currently on vacation?”
“I was in Kelowna for years but just moved to Vancouver because of work.”
“UBC?”
“How do you know that?”
“Just a hunch.”
I laughed. I … laughed.
It was tough for me to laugh those past few days because I did not think I would survive in Vancouver alone. Well, that man played a significant role.
We talked for hours. I was, and still am an introvert. I find it hard to open up to others, especially those I just met. But he’s just so ... different.
It turned out that he came to Stanley Park to celebrate his birthday. He said that a little celebration by witnessing the sunset in the most beautiful park in Vancouver would help him express his gratitude. I was … mesmerized …by his thoughts.
How can I admire someone that I just met? Is it because of the guitar riff from the Edge of Desire that he played earlier? Or is it just him as a whole person? Well, I did not know my answer back then. But I do, now.
“A huge thanks to you, my first day in Vancouver wasn’t that bad. Oh, and happy birthday,”
“Thanks. Speaking of the truth about what you told me earlier — I mean, about your job transfer to Vancouver — it’s not always easy, but that’s life. Be strong because there are better days ahead.”
Man did not realize that he had just helped the word love bloom for the first time in a while.
That August was, indeed, different. I met a man who embodies the word “comfort.” After knowing him for almost four years, I discovered that he once chose Tulip as his nickname. I’m not even surprised. His nickname suits him so well. The fact that Tulip is also known as a flower that gives comfort to the recipient … the universe really painted his destiny in the most beautiful way that I could expect.
You may be wondering why I wrote such a long story today. I can even write many poems in a day if it’s about him. But for now, I decided to write a story from the past that led me to who I am today. None other than the story about me meeting him.
Oh, and do you know what day it is?
Today is August 2nd.
Today, the man who embodies comfort once again hugs me from 5.292 km away with the things he spoke, the guitar he just played, and the pinky promise sealed with his sparkling eyes.
So … today, I want to hug him back with the story I wrote, the prayer I made, and the countless thank you for giving me a garden full of tulips blooming with comfort.
Happy 24th birthday, love.
I won’t tell you the answer today, so if you want to know the answer directly, please keep your smile on until next year, the next 10 years, the next 20 years, and so on.
I’ll tell you the answer when the time is right. Until then, I’ll keep the answer close to my heart. Don’t worry; it won’t be going anywhere.
Oh, and here is my wish for your birthday.
Let’s go back to Stanley Park to celebrate your birthday when the word old is not only for the guitar, but also for us.
Some parts of this writing are fiction, but the thankful that I put into this writing is not.
It’s real.
