The second time to the edge of the Forbidden City at 1AM, the pagoda was no longer an eerie outline in the dark. It was lit up like a museum artefact, clean lines and fresh paint, picture perfect and ready for a movie set. The second time zooming past the Forbidden City at 1AM, still on the back of a motorcycle, but the shoulder that I clutch was different, and I'd traded wine for a White Russian that wasn't quite a White Russian. The second time passing by that river bank, I think of sitting there, I think of his arms circling around my waist, he said: "don't do that, you're making me nervous." Like Michael Jackson dangling a baby. Time dies. When Tian held my hand and talked about what crazy bag of random I was, I think we're two nut jobs who are a little too sane together. He always tries to untangle my moodier moments with a pinch of maturity, but I tell him sometimes I just need to brood, forgive me if I'm cold and moody. I don't mean to hurt.
I hope in the end, we all didn't mean to hurt, and you and I can walk away a little lighter.