“听说”了很久的开中20年校庆，终于在昨天成了事实，也在今天成了过去，迈向下一个10年的开中，我已经开始不认识了。

        似乎还记得初三那一年，下学期刚开学不久，就有一次10周年的校庆。刚毕业正读大学的师兄师姐们占多数，已经工作穿了套装回来的显得尤其突出。那时的我没想过20年校庆，只是想着快快长大，也能像师兄师姐们一样，和老师们平等地谈笑。

        如果曾经知道分离的苦和回忆的无奈，我未必那么渴望长大。

        昨天并非我毕业后第一次回去，近4年前我还回去实习过，但对于一个曾经的学生来说，和学校的维系在毕业离开的那一刻已经断了，以后的每一次重临，都只是反复的第一次而已，因为我和学校已经不属于彼此。

        但最让人心痛的，莫过于高中部和初中部的分离。迟钝的感觉告诉我，现在的开中只是一个初中学校，我的高中年华，已经只能看着熟悉的建筑幻想当年的空气中的荷尔蒙。

        新校徽，新办公室，新校服细节，新宿舍，新外墙，新布局，让我等怀旧之人不停感叹往昔不再。

        见到了很多退休老师。真奇怪，读书是总是认为老师不会老的，他们会永远精力充沛地带一个又一个年级的学生经过三年又三年的轮回，他们会一直在那里，等我们回去看看。看着退休的老师，真正知道了自己年少不再，10年早已流淌过去，我们正沿着时间的方向往前走，回头时，旧日的校园换了新貌。

        我们都很好。

Edinburgh, Cardiff, Falkirk, Lake District, St Andrews, Brussels, Bruges, Amsterdam, The Stonehenge, Crail, Hangzhou, Canterbury, Brighton, Dover, Hong Kong

“Lust, Caution”, “No Country for Old Man”, “There Will Be Blood”, “Horton Hears a Who”, “Juno”, “Prince Caspian”, “The Orphanage”, “Son of Rambow”, “Happy-go-lucky”, “Sommers Town”, “In Bruges”, “Persepolis”, The Female Agents”, “Kungfu Panda”, “Mamma Mia!”, “Wall-E”, “Burn After Reading”, “The Boy in the Stripped Pajamas”, “Pineapple Express”, “The Warlords”, “Easy Virtue”, “I’ve Loved You So Long”, “Waltz with Bashir”,"Hunger", "Gomorra"

“The Cider House Rules”, “Courtesans”, “The Mists of Avalon”, “After You’d Gone”, “The Chronicles of Narnia”

Became permanent, transferred to Financial, praised, met expectation, passed probation, transferred to Deposits, easy calls, angry calls, unreasonable calls, fed up with calls, resignation, good-bye drinks

Frankenstein’s, Singing for Fun workshops, Drama workshops, French lessons, Outwardbound Challenge, Arty Party, Easneuk Festival, Edinburgh Festival, Vanity Fair, Mary Rose, Dorian Gray, Las Vegas night out, house parties, farewell parties

Nice calls, angry calls, laughs, tears, flowers, cocktails, hugs, kisses, yeses, nos

Full but empty, lots and little, doubts and decisions. 2008, just another year.

I wanted to come back after Christmas. But my resignation altered the whole plan. It’s not the best of time to look for any job; not really a great festive time either. Nonetheless, Christmas has got to be celebrated.

It wasn’t an enjoyable experience for me to start with, my first Christmas in the UK. My friend and I did a few masses on the Eve cos I sincerely liked carol singing. But on the day, everything stopped, even the hostel kitchen! We wandered around the freezing Scottish capital, up to the Arthur’s Seat, fed with two chocolate bars we bought the day before…

I just finished moving from South London to North London the next year, and Dimitri so kindly invited me over to his parents’ house. That was the first time I had Sri Lankan food (though rudely using knife and fork), and the only time spent with a family. It was great. And Christmas Day with my new flatmates, those Italians were good fun.

Last year Mirisa invited me over along with Marike. So I had my second Christmas in Edinburgh, but this time warm, with so much great vegetarian food.

I had planned for the company night out and started thinking about taking a short trip before I have decided leaving. I have grown so used to the long dark hours, the German Christmas Market, the frantic Christmas shopping, the dazzling shop windows and the expectation of a holiday in the air.

Then I was shocked Christmas has passed yesterday. There was no festive atmosphere in Guangzhou although the shops are doing some Christmas discounts. And there are no quiet nights, cold air, on-street carol singing, family gatherings and secret santas.

Well, no worries, I have the much bigger Chinese New Year to look forward to—flower markets, red envelopes, gift shopping, great food, and most of all, HOME!

It was the accumulation of dreams that concluded I wanted to go to the UK, to study, maybe; to live, maybe; to love, yes.

The earliest dreams were about the brilliant sunshine in the countryside. The golden sunlight on the greenest grass, with narrow paths winding across. Carts were driven by horses. The farmers would smile to you, as warm as the summer sun. How beautiful!

Later, dreams were shaped by Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. The little girls in the countryside had nothing but dreams to marry someone wealthy. The young men in London had nothing to dream for but the tough reality to face. Nonetheless, my mind was drowned and dizzied by their words.

Then came Harry Potter, the boy wizard that captured everyone’s breath. And it brought my dream north to Scotland, where the amazing castles, strongest winds, baldest mountains, men in skirts are.

I watched “Love, Actually” around the Christmas before I went to the UK. Admittedly it was just a rom-com that you could expect. But with that bit of Christmassy and spontaneous romance and hopefulness, it made my dream ever so dreamy.

It’s always another matter when it comes to reality. There was no school in a castle at St Andrews, no teacher lecturing transfiguration, no Voldmort looming around. There was no sunny summer, no tiny paths winding about, nowhere really is countryside. There were no creepy London closes, no dark shabby attic rooms for a hug family. There were no young girls vowing to marry Prince William only, alcohol and money were their lovers.

No fairy tale of love for a die-hard romantic. Lies, cheats and endless lessons. What do three year’s affairs say? That I still believe in love, while I know perfectly that it is still a dream…