Another December: Have You Grasped the Tail of the Capricorn Season?

Deep winter has arrived. Have the plum blossoms bloomed in your hometown?

Some people are like a single dot in an ink wash painting; whether viewed up close or from afar, they seem to leave very little trace. Others, however, are like a gust of wind within that painting—no matter where you look, their presence seems to linger within every vibrant brushstroke.

Love comes in so many forms. It is precisely because of its existence that our world, through all four seasons, is continually balanced by a certain warmth. Summers aren’t overly restless, and winters aren’t unbearably cold.

There are twelve constellations in the zodiac, each unique, each singular, each watching over a different part of the starry sky. Capricorn is like a winter plum blossom, persevering through countless cold days, neither too warm nor too fiery, standing tall and full of life right where it is.

Every Capricorn I’ve ever met, much like myself, strives tirelessly upward. It’s as if we all share the same unspoken agreement for this month—the word “retreat” simply doesn’t exist in a Capricorn’s dictionary.

Part I: The Art of Observation

Have you seen him?

If you have, please tell me—and I mean really tell me. Describe his every move, every gesture, in painstaking detail.

What’s that? You think I like him?

No, no. I’m just curious, you know? Simply curious. Really.

There are many kinds of affection in this world, but one of the most bittersweet and beautiful is secret admiration—unrequited love. As Eason Chan sings in “Red Rose,” “What you can’t get is always stirring; those who are loved have nothing to fear.”

It’s true. So many things that seem incredibly beautiful might become utterly mundane the moment you finally obtain them. Among all forms of love, a secret crush is the most dignified and, paradoxically, the sweetest. It carries with it a prolonged oscillation between hope and fear, lingering sweetness and subtle jealousy. It has the fluttering willow catkins of an April breeze and the cold, drifting snowflakes of deep winter.

Its beginning goes unnoticed; its ending is rarely abrupt. It is humble, yet it carries its own quiet pride. When a Capricorn develops feelings for someone, they do so cautiously. They rarely fall head over heels quickly. Instead, they take their time to understand, to observe every little detail from a distance.

“I watch you build your empire from the ground up; I watch you entertain guests from all directions; I watch you, through your highs and lows, observing you for what feels like a lifetime.”

Part II: The Unspoken Goodbye

If one day, the uncle at the steamed bun shop arrives a few minutes late at dawn, or the auntie is tardy by the school gate at dusk… If one day, the rainbow displays colors I don’t recognize, or the sunlight feels a little less intense…

Then I might choose a completely ordinary, unremarkable moment to let you go, releasing you toward an unfamiliar direction.

You are not a kite—perhaps it is I who resembles the kite in your hands. No matter where you go, I drift in your direction, though the wind never quite seems to blow the way I wish it would.

Quietly liking someone is its own special kind of sorrow. It’s as if you’ve never once looked up at the sky, and I’ve never truly entered your field of vision.

A Capricorn’s affection is a long-lasting one. That tender, youthful fondness often finds itself relinquished in those very years—not because the decision is made lightly, but because it is made with profound depth. Even with their favorite celebrities, Capricorns remain fiercely loyal. No matter how big a mistake their idol makes, a Capricorn woman rarely “un-stans.” She continues to believe in them. It’s a trait that might seem foolish to some, but it speaks volumes of their steadfast dedication.

In the days to come, whenever you meet a Capricorn, know that within their seemingly solitary heart often resides the memory of someone who could never be theirs. Some loves are unrequited; others are torn apart by circumstance. Those fading, yellowed memories remain locked away—too fragile to touch, for at the slightest disturbance, they might shatter completely.

Part III: The Silence of Letting Go

No matter how much time passes, I will always remember the dazzling brilliance of the stars, the serene chill of the moonlight, and the glorious rays of the rising sun spilling forth from the distant east.

I will also remember that, among all my impressions of you, I can no longer find a single useful memory.

Ah, it seems I’ve finally forgotten you.

Everything has faded… except for your eyes, that very first gaze that made my heart skip a beat.

So it turns out that the last impression we retain when forgetting someone is reserved for the eyes.

From the moment a Capricorn starts liking someone to the moment they forget them, there is one consistent behavior: they simply stop mentioning them. When they develop feelings, they won’t talk about it. When they let go, they won’t talk about that, either.

In this world, many things unfold from beginning to end without anyone ever knowing.

Once, a Capricorn girl asked me, “What does it feel like to be in love?”

I said, “Perhaps it means being willing to traverse time and space for that person. No matter where they are, I would find a way to reach them.”

She shook her head. “That’s too grand,” she replied. “Real love isn’t about time or space. It’s much simpler than that. It’s wanting to see him, yet being afraid to. It’s wanting to have him, yet not wanting to possess him entirely. It’s knowing he won’t leave, yet constantly fearing that he might.”

She concluded softly, “See? You don’t understand love.”

I retorted, “You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

Her response was gentle but firm: “I have loved.”

And all I could say was, “Alright then. I suppose I haven’t.”