The Mid-Autumn Festival. That's what they call it. But to me, it's more than just a festival. It's a feeling, a memory, a whole damn universe packed into a single night. And this year? Well, this year feels different.

Growing up, 中秋节 always meant one thing: family. 晚餐桌子总是堆满了食物，grandma做的月饼，我永远吃不够。那种味道，甜甜的，带着淡淡的莲蓉香，还有满满的爱。小时候，就爱缠着她讲嫦娥奔月的故事，虽然听了无数遍，还是觉得神奇。月亮，在那些记忆里，总是特别圆，特别亮，好像能把一切都照亮。

Later, things changed. 青春期来了，我开始觉得这些老掉牙的习俗“土气”。 月饼太腻了，嫦娥的故事也幼稚了。 恨不得把所有节日都抛到脑后，只想做自己喜欢的事情。 Family dinners became a chore，the bright moon just… a moon. A giant, slightly annoying ball of rock in the sky. 真的是… 叛逆啊。

Then, life hit me. Hard. Things happened. People left. The familiar comfort of those childhood 中秋 nights… vanished. Suddenly, the world felt vast, cold, and utterly lonely.

And that’s when I started to miss it. Miss the warmth, the laughter, the simple feeling of being… loved. Miss the ritual, the predictability, the unspoken understanding that came with a shared moment, with family, under that same damn moon.

Now, 中秋节 is different again. It's… complicated. It's a reminder of what I've lost, but also of what I still have. This year, I'll be spending it alone. Not by choice, but that's life, right? You can’t always get what you want. But that doesn't mean you can’t appreciate what you do have.

I’ll probably buy a box of mooncakes. Not the fancy ones with the golden egg yolks (though, damn, those are good), but the simple ones. The ones my grandma used to make. Maybe I'll even try to make some myself. Probably a disaster, knowing me, but who cares? It's the effort that counts, right?

The moon? I'll watch it. Really watch it. Not just glance at it, like I used to. I'll stare at it, let it wash over me, and maybe… just maybe… feel a little bit of that old magic again. I’ll remember the stories, the faces, the feeling of being safe and loved. That’s the real magic of the Mid-Autumn Festival, isn't it? Not the food, not the lanterns, but the connection. The connection to your past, to your family (even if it's just in memory), and to the feeling of belonging.

It's funny, how something so seemingly simple – a full moon, a few pastries, a family gathering – can hold so much power. It's a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there's always light. A reminder that even when things change, and people move on, the memories, the love, the feeling of being connected… that stays.

This year, I'll raise a glass to that. To the moon, to the memories, and to the hope that next year, maybe… just maybe… I won't be alone. Or maybe I will, and that’ll be okay too. Because the Mid-Autumn Festival, for me, is no longer just a festival. It's a part of me. It's a part of who I am.

And that's pretty damn special, you know?