As I recalled the memory now, the emotion that I had managed to let go almost resurfaced. So, I diverted my attention and texted my aunt.
"Auntie, the day after tomorrow will be your twenty ninth birthday. I want to cook for you personally. Is that okay?"
I stared at the chat screen as the words "typing ..." appeared, only to vanish moments later.
It took a long time before I got a cold and polite reply from my Auntie.
"Joey, I hope you understand. Even if we’re not related by blood, it will never happen between us.”
"I'm your Auntie, your mother’s best friend. Before she passed away, she entrusted you to my care. I raised you,” she wrote.
"Let go of these unrealistic thoughts. If this is another attempt to confess your feelings, I must decline and refuse your invitation," she had typed.
I actually was not surprised by her rejection.
Ever since I was head over heels with my Auntie at nine years old, I kept professing my love to her and because I was a child at that time, she would scold me and call me a silly kid who didn’t know better.
I naively believed that once I grew up, I could be with her. Each year on my birthday, I eagerly declared my feelings once again.