A/N: This is called 候鳥, or Migratory Bird, based off the lyrics to S.H.E’s song.  Obviously the lyrics aren’t my own.  The Chinese is way to good to be mine.  Lol.  However, the story is of my own imagination.  Here are the translations to the Chinese scattered throughout my story.

你往北向南說再見: Bound for the north, you say goodbye to the south.  (Er, that’s not the best translation, but it’s the way it makes the most sense to me in English.)

南方的冬天: The winter of the south

我含淚面向著北邊: My teary face faces north. (Still, trying to make this sort of make sense in English.  I know my translations suck.)

變成記意裡的明信片: Becomes memory’s postcards.

你的愛飛很遠像候鳥季節變遷: Your love flies far away, like a migratory bird in the season’s changes.

過境說的永遠隨著漲潮不見: The forever said in transit disappears with the rising tide.

我站在河岸邊被樹叢隔離想念: I stand at the river’s side, the thicket blocking me and missing you.

你的愛飛很遠像候鳥看不見: Your love flies far away, like a migratory bird that disappears.

(Okay, all my translations suck.  It’s hard to translate.  Sorry.)

~

候鳥

你往北向南說再見

Love had reached its end, and together they stood on the verge of goodbye.   All they would ever have left of one another henceforth were memories—love’s postcards.  Nothing would bring back what had been lost.  The passage of time would only serve to further distance them from one another and blur the beauty of memory.

They stood in the midst of a sea of people, flooding by as carelessly as would the rising tide.  Neither spoke as she raised her hand in gesture of farewell. This was it; she would go on alone.  Her leaving marked the passage of summer, for with her would go the sun.

“Goodbye,” she said softly, her voice still lingering with wistful affection.

南方的冬天

She sat on a bench at a local park one afternoon, the hot sun high overhead.  Her gaze focused on the mien of a man at a distance from her; in his countenance she discerned a dark cast of clouds oversetting his smooth features.  Something about the sadness settled over him drew her to him like the tide to the moon.  Here was someone that she thought could use a smile.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a way to give it to him without awkwardly encroaching upon him.  After all, she couldn’t just directly approach him without violating serious codes of social conduct.  Sighing helplessly, she kept her eyes trained on him.

She hated witnessing the pain of others, worn so visibly on their countenances, and knowing she couldn’t do anything for them without making them more uncomfortable.  Yet the way she figured it, too much despair wasted the ephemerality of life.  Life pulsed with hidden joys, and discovering them could drive away so much of life’s despair.  But there was no way she could make that apparent to the rest of the world: her influence was too small.

Growing thirsty her gaze broke away from the man, and she reached into her pocket to retrieve a couple of coins.  She glanced about her surroundings in search of a vending machine and sighted a bright green machine at just a little distance from the man’s bench, set back in a little alcove of trees.  Apprehension overwhelmed her.  She felt uncertain at the idea of passing the person of her attention.  Still, he didn’t appear aware of her gaze.  And she was thirsty.

Assuming a nonchalant gait, she ambled towards the machine.  Still nervous, she fiddled absently with the coins she clutched.  As she passed by the bench where the man sat, her fingers lost their grip of the coins, and the coins bounced to the ground, scattering in a tinkling disarray.  She watched in dismay as they rolled off into the thick growth of grass.  Quickly dropping to her knees, she followed the path of one that had rolled before her feet and into the grass.  Hunting frantically, her fingers combed between the blades of grass when she noticed from the corner of her eyes the figure of a man getting to his feet.  Her heart fluttered wildly, and nervous, she feigned ignorance.

Her crawling came to a halt when a pair of legs barricaded her search.  Looking up, she noticed him nervously wringing his hands.  Raising her eyebrows in question, she waited for him to speak.  Finally licking his lips, he asked in stilted English, “Are you need help?”

A grin tucked itself into the corners of her mouth as she replied with ease in his native tongue, “I lost a few coins.”

He blinked at her in surprise, very obviously taken aback by her response.  His expression of astonishment only added to her mirth.

“You’re welcome to help if you want,” she continued as if unaware of his sudden speechlessness.  “I had only just enough for a drink, and I’m rather thirsty.”

He gulped and licked his lips nervously.  “You understand me?” he asked incredulously.

“Usually,” she replied casually, all the while crawling around in the grass, her eyes intent on seeking out a gleam of silver hidden in the thick jungle of grass blades.

A smile of relief replaced his amazed expression, and he knelt down at the sidewalk’s edge to begin his own search.  Earnestly he helped her search, combing the grass carefully with his fingers.  Not a word passed his lips in the duration of their efforts, but she could still clearly see the subtle shift of expression in his countenance.  As he absorbed himself wholeheartedly in helping her, his brow furrowed in solemn concentration; it was as if this small task had woken in him a sense of purpose and momentarily driven away his desolation.

Their efforts were, however, fruitless.  Growing impatient, she plopped to the ground and halted her search.  “It’s okay,” she sighed.  “It was only a few coins anyways.  I’ll just wait until I get home.”

His concentration broken, he stopped mid-action and looked over at the strange auburn-haired girl.  Feeling as if he’d failed, he nodded disappointedly.  She smiled encouragingly.  Something about that smile magnetized him, and he knew he didn’t want to part ways just then.  Hesitantly he stammered, “How about I—  Well…  Would— Let me take you to get something to drink.”  He blushed and looked down, giving her no chance of meeting his gaze.

“Oh,” she started uncertainly.  “I don’t think—”

Her refusal was interrupted as his eyes met her gaze, and she read there the sincerity of his invitation.  She hadn’t meant for him to invite her anywhere.  Even though her curiosity urged her to say yes, she hesitated.  The sudden luminosity of his pupils faded as the invitation sat awkwardly between them, and she sensed there the hurt she’d cause if she refused.  “All right,” she relented with a sunny smile.

我含淚面向著北邊

Without another word she turned away, pretending not to have seen the stream of tears carving its way down his cheeks.  A part of her ached for him, and she yearned to turn back and wipe away all trace of tears.  But it was too late.  Even if their disjointed hearts still belonged to one another, love had flown away.  He no longer needed her, and in the face of sadness she could no longer disregard her wanderlust.  Gritting her teeth, she tightened her clutch on her bag and pressed forward without a backwards glance.  Only in acting callous could she remain strong against this painful parting of ways.

變成記意裡的明信片

He’d led her to a small café, neatly tucked into the folds of a small alley.  Hidden amidst the potted trees and flowers decking the wooden patio, they took their seats at a metal table outdoors.  He handed her one of the table’s two menus and took the other for himself.  At their perusal of the menu, silence washed over them.

She decided quickly on an iced green tea and set aside her menu.  Her gaze swiftly ascended on his face—drinking in the smoothness of his complexion and the darkness of his orbs.  His eyebrows knitted together in serious contemplation as his finger carefully traced down the list of beverages.  It appeared he was not one to make decisions lightly.  His finger came to a halt on a chocolate-flavored milk tea at long last.  Decision made, he drew his head up and his eyes met hers.  A sense of pleasure swelled suddenly within her, and she shyly glanced away.  She liked the man seated across from her for some inexplicable reason.  Maybe it was something in his eyes.

“Have you decided?” he asked.

She nodded in response, while the man raised his hand in gesture of beckoning over a waiter.   A passing waiter caught his motion and nodded in answer.  He quickly took their orders and left just as immediately.

A silence of uncertainty lingered uneasily between them until she spoke.  “Thanks for your invitation.”  He nodded in acknowledgement of her gratitude.  “I’m Clare.  What’s your name?”

“Aidan,” he replied with a hesitant smile.

Upon catching sight of his smile, her pink lips cracked into a broad beam.  “I hope my clumsiness hasn’t inconvenienced you in any way,” she added.

“Not in the least,” he answered, his tone relaxing.

The waiter returned bearing a tray with two chilled teas.  He swiftly placed the tall glass of green tea in front of Clare and the tall glass of milk tea in front of Aidan before retreating just as swiftly as he’d come.

Conversation resumed between the new acquaintances.  Friendship blossomed as their teas disappeared.  And so absorbed were they in their conversation that they remained at their table long after they’d finished their drinks, totally unaware of the two empty glasses sitting between them.

The initial glum etched into Aidan’s features vanished as if by magic.  Some elusive quality about the foreign girl had captured his rapt interest and raised his spirits.  He could not quite name what precisely, though.  She possessed a sort of joie de vivre that drove away the loneliness, always threatening to sink into him.  He hadn’t even had to confide in her his grief so as to experience it either.  In no time, he was laughing with her as she shared tales of misadventures she’d met all around the world.  He hadn’t felt this good in so long—in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much or enjoyed the company of another human being as much.  His seemingly endless winter had rapidly thawed into summer.

The sky darkened as the café’s patio lamps lighted.   His phone rang, interrupting her tale.  He tried to ignore it, but just as he reached out to silence it, she protested, “Don’t ignore it.”

He nodded and reluctantly grabbed it.  With graceful swiftness, he rose to his feet and retreated to a private corner to answer his caller.

“Aidan,” greeted the terse voice, “change of plans: our clients are leaving a day early.  We need you to have that presentation ready for tomorrow.”

Drawing a deep breath, Aidan glanced at the intriguing woman with whom he’d spent the entirety of his afternoon.  “Of course, sir,” he sighed in acquiescence.

He automatically snapped his phone shut and rushed back to the table.  “Clare, I have to get some work done this evening.  I am so sorry to cut out like this on you.”

Nodding in comprehension, she replied, “Work comes first.  Thank you, though, so much buying me a drink.  I had a good time talking to you.”

“Well then…  Goo—”  Aidan faltered on his words.  It couldn’t just end like this.  He wanted to see her again despite the voice in his head alerting him not to let his path merge with this woman.  Ignoring his usual overcautious instinct, he fumbled in his pants pocket for a business card and handed it to Clare.

She received it with a bright smile and handed him hers in return.  His hands clasping around it, he flashed her a luminous smile and pocketed it.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Aidan,” she said in farewell.

“Same here, Clare.”  He gave her a last wave and disappeared; all the while, her eyes never left his figure.

你的愛飛很遠像候鳥季節變遷

He’d seen the trace of tears carved into her cheeks just before she’d turned her back on him.  Try as he might, he couldn’t understand her abrupt departure, but at this point the injuries were too deep to hope for love’s return.  The seasons had changed, and love was flying far away, attempting to beat the onset of winter.

He couldn’t trap her at his side as he wished; she’d, otherwise, weaken.  She was like a migratory bird, always following the sun.  She was a product of summer, in constant need of the sun.  No, he wouldn’t cause her anguish.

But he wondered if he could make it without her.

過境說的永遠隨著漲潮不見

She’d changed him somehow.  He couldn’t even say when it happened.  One day his heart resembled an empty void, but within a matter of weeks, the ache had lessened.  Six months later it was gone.  That didn’t change how much he missed his mother, but he knew he could continue waking up everyday and face the world—all because of her.  He hadn’t talked to Clare a whole lot about his mother’s passing, but he didn’t have to.  Just being with her was enough to lift his spirits.

At this point, he couldn’t imagine a day without Clare.  He wanted to tell her he loved her and make her his.  Yet his friends cautioned against it.  No matter how familiar she was with their ways, she was still different.  Who was to say she wouldn’t just break his heart?  Not eager for another heartache, he’d heeded his friends’ warnings and refrained from saying anything; instead he’d continued contentedly in pursuit of friendship.

But he wondered if his friends were wrong.  He sensed her way of treating him to be different from that of a mere friend.  The feelings were there in the way they accidentally brushed hands or in how their gazes would linger a second too long on the other.  Her tone of voice became especially soft whenever they were alone together.

But he’d been too nervous to attempt pursuing her.  Until now, that is.

Gripping the bouquet of flowers, he reached out and knocked at her door.

“Come in!” he heard her holler.

He effortlessly pushed open the door, exasperation overtaking him—she really ought to exercise more caution and keep it locked.  “Clare!” he called out, adjusting his jacket as he stepped into the entryway.

“Hold on!” she called out from her bedroom.

He walked into her living area and took a seat on her couch.  Bored, he glanced about the cluttered little room that doubled as kitchen and living space.  Books and empty dishes sat piled on the table.  More books were carelessly strewn about the living room.  Typical of Clare, he grinned.  She was always scattered and lost in her thoughts.  He liked that about her, though.

His eyes caught on a glossy pamphlet placed on the table beside the couch.  Curious, he extended his arm and picked it up.  On it were printed the words “Sénégal: Un Pays Qui Attend Votre Aide.”  He couldn’t make out more than the word Sénégal, but he had a vague idea of what it all meant.  Clare was planning on leaving him.

The thought of it stabbed his heart.

Clare emerged from her bedroom, adjusting an earring as she went towards Aidan.  Upon catching sight of him holding the little brochure, she stopped mid-track.  “Aidan,” she gasped nervously.

He looked up and met her gaze squarely.  For a long moment, he kept his silence.  And then he spoke.  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

At a loss for words, she gulped.

“Well?” he demanded impatiently.

Averting his angry countenance, she dropped her head in a curt nod.  Before she could regain her composure enough to speak, he wordlessly dropped both pamphlet and flowers and stormed out of her apartment.

She didn’t dare chase him.  Tears slid down her cheeks silently as she fell to her feet in bewildered hurt.  He shouldn’t be angry with her—she was going to tell him.  She’d only barely begun to plan these changes as it were.  He didn’t need her any longer; he seemed already happy enough.  And she couldn’t bear another moment of agony, hoping he might confess to her. The feelings had been there, she was certain of it.  She’d been patient, for she knew getting together took longer where she was, but even her friends had told her he was being ridiculously slow.  In the meantime, each meeting was silently killing her, for it never resulted in anything more than an amicable outing—and if she was lucky, an accidental brush of the hand.  Her heartache only increasing, she knew it was well time she left.

Using the sleeves of her shirt to wipe away the tears, she looked over at the abandoned bouquet of flowers.  The sight of abandoned daisies wilting helplessly before her tore at her heartstrings, and the wounds of her heart bled afresh.  Getting to her knees, she crawled over to the bouquet and grabbed it, burying her face in it.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress.  She could take care of herself.  And she would.  By starting anew in another country.  She could be used in Senegal.  They needed people like her, and she was beginning to itch for a new adventure.

She just wished leaving didn’t feel this bad. If only her heart hadn’t foolishly believed in the promises of forever.  Love’s fragile forever was easily washed away by the tide.

我站在河岸邊被樹叢隔離想念

Just before passing through security, she stole one last glance at him.  He seemed so broken, and she worried he wouldn’t stay strong without her.  But they’d already caused the damage, and their hearts no longer fit together just so.  She was glad he’d at least come to see her off—even if he refused to hear her explanation.  Maybe their paths would cross again at a more opportune time, but for now it had to be goodbye.

She tore her gaze away and stepped through the barriers of security.  From now on he was only a part of the past to be missed.

你的愛飛很遠像候鳥看不見