Yesterday was my last day in Hong Kong. Bronson and I met up with Vincent, Celine, and Florence — Hong Kong friends who graduated from Princeton this last year — and we went biking along the coast of the New Territories. I was originally quite nervous about it as I haven’t been on a bike since middle school, but what they say is true about never forgetting, and I ended up having a great time. Photo album here.
I probably won’t run into Vincent, Celine, and Florence for a while as they’ll be working in Hong Kong (Vincent/Celine) and Angola (Florence) for the forseeable future, but it fascinates me that people don’t just disappear once they say goodbye. Even if they are halfway around the world, meeting up and hanging out is not nearly as impossible as I once thought. While transportation is not cheap, it’s worth it to make the effort to see the people you care about if you have the means.
I’ve had an insecurity about people leaving me since I was very young. My parents spent most of my childhood and adolescence working a continent apart from me and my brother, and while that’s cultivated a certain level of independence and responsibility, it’s also inculcated an extreme fear of loneliness. That loneliness manifests itself as a perfectionism that both forces me to excel and compels me towards madness — perpetually trying to win my parents’ approval, yearning to fulfill that deep neediness of the 5-year old that longs to be loved.
