Today I listened to Full House's 운명 many, many times. I'm a Twinkie of a Korean-American, and quite honestly, this is the first K-pop song I could stand to listen to, let alone embrace and adore. Sadly, I know very little of the tongue so many of my ancestors spoke, so while I feel a part of me dance with joy at the sound of Korean, I can neither sing nor understand the lyrics. That's fine with me, because I love this song so dearly.
There is a little sign I posted at the head of my bed that reads:
Ich werde dich immer lieben...
Ich werde dich nie vergessen.
Ich bin froh dass ich dich kennen.
I wrote it for the boy I've fallen insanely in love with. He doesn't understand a word of German (he's Chinese, and a fobby one at that). We became friends February 7--a week before Valentine's Day!--which I never thought would happen. He is sweet, understanding and so good to everyone he knows. It's no wonder nobody can stand to hate him. I loved him from the day I met him and I love him now. I don't believe he will ever know.
What is the significance of December 12, you might ask?
It's the day I lost a part of my identity. Make what you will of that.
While I'm very bubbly and an honestly truly happy person, I don't believe you should try to force bad memories into obscurity. Don't obsess over them, but don't make a point of forgetting them, either. Sometimes bad memories help shape us into who we are.
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