A Little Piece of Me
When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed.There were pieces of me all over the tidy，tan tiles.He kept talking，telling me why he was leaving，explaining it was for the best，I could do better，it was his fault and not mine.I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune；perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.
He left and I tried to get on with my life.I filled the kettle and put it on to boil，I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china.That was what my life had been like，endless omissions of coffee granules，somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee.
Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it.That’s what Mike’s leaving had been like，sudden and with an awful finality.I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished.I laughed at myself.Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee.I must be getting old.
And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror.A young woman full of promise and hope，a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world.I never loved Mike anyway.Besides there are more important things.More important than love，I insist to myself firmly.The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.
He doesn’t haunt my dreams as I feared that night.Instead I am flying far across fields and woods，looking down on those below me.Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter，brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it.I realize later，with some degree of understanding，that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly.The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights，but without the hunter.I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony.I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me，there is another person，not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend，but there is someone out there who is my soul mate.I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together，what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth，a little understanding of my physical being.He has only，a little piece of me.
生命的过客
当他告诉我他要离开的时候，我感觉自己就像花瓶裂成了碎片，跌落在茶色瓷砖地板上。他一直在说话，解释着为什么要离开，说什么这是最好的，我可以做得更好，都是他的错，与我无关。虽然这些话我已经听过好几千遍了，可每次听完都让我很受伤，或许在这样巨大的打击面前没有人能做到无动于衷。
他走了，我尝试着继续过自己的生活。我烧开水，拿出红色杯子，看着咖啡粉末一点点地落入骨灰瓷的杯子里。这正是我自己的鲜活写照，不断地往下掉咖啡粉末，却从来没有真正地泡成一杯咖啡。
水开了，水壶发出警报声，我假装没有听见。迈克的离去也是一样，突如其来，并且无可挽回。要知道，我宁愿忍受分与不分的煎熬，也不愿意以这样的方式被宣判“死刑”。想着想着我就哑然失笑，自己竟然为一杯咖啡有如此多的人生感怀，我自己一定是老了。
可是镜子里回瞪着我的那个女孩还是那么年轻啊！明目皓齿，充满了前途与希望，光明的未来在向她招手。没关系的，反正我也从来没有爱过迈克。何况，生命中还有比爱更重要的东西在等待着我，我对自己坚持说。我将咖啡罐的盖子盖好，也将所有关于迈克的记忆尘封起来。
那天晚上，出乎意料的是，他并没有入到我的梦中。在梦里，我飞过田野和森林，俯瞰着大地。突然间，我掉了下来……醒来后才发现原来自己被猎人打中了，但是令我坠落的不是他的子弹，而是他的灵魂。我后来才渐渐明白，原来迈克就是那个使我坠落的猎人，而我是那只渴望飞翔的小鸟。到了第二天晚上，我仍然做了类似的梦，但是猎人不见了，我一直在自由地飞翔，直到遇上另外一只小鸟和我比翼双飞。我开始意识到，总有那么一只鸟，那么一个人在前面等我，这个人可能是我的爱人，可能只是朋友，但一定是知我懂我的人，这令我感觉如释重负。我想起曾经觉得自己像花瓶一样裂开了，才意识到原来自己已经把自己修理好了。迈克只是我生命过程中的小小过客，他仅仅了解我的表面，他仅仅是我生命中的小小一部分。
Life Is All About Choices
Michael is the kind of guy you love to hate.He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say.When someone would ask him how he was doing，he would reply，“If I were any better，I’d be twins！”He was a natural motivator.
If an employee was having a bad day，Michael was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.Seeing this style really made me curious，so one day I went up to Michael and asked him，“I don’t get it.You can’t be positive all the time.How do you do it？”
Michael replied，“Each morning I wake up and say to myself，‘Mike，you have two choices today.You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.’I choose to be in a good mood.Each time something bad happens，I can choose to be a victim or choose to learn from it.I choose to learn from it.Every time someone comes to me complaining I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life.I choose the positive side of life.”
“Yeah，right.It isn’t that easy.”I protested.
“Yes it is，”Michael said.“Life is all about choices.When you cut away all the junk，every situation is a choice.You choose how you react to situations.You choose how people will affect your mood.You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood.The bottom line is：It’s your choice how you live life.”I reflected on what Michael said.
Soon thereafter，I left the big enterprise that I had worked in for years to start my own business.We lost touch，but I often though about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.Several years later，I heard Michael was involved in a serious accident，falling off 60feet from a communications tower.
After 18hours of surgery，and weeks of intensive care，Michael was released from the hospital with rods placed in his back.I saw Michael about six months after the accident.When I asked him how he was，he replied，“If I were any better，I’d be twins.Wanna see my scars？”I declined to see his wounds，but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the accident took place.
“The first thing that went through my mind was the well being of my soontoborn daughter，”Michael replied.“Then，as I lay on the ground，remembered I had two choices：I could choose to live or I could choose to die.I chose to live.”
“Weren’t you scared？Did you lose consciousness？”I asked.
Michael continued，“...the paramedics were great.They kept telling me I was going to be fine.But when they wheeled me into the operation room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses，I got really scared.In their eyes，I read ‘He’s a dead man.’I knew I needed to take action.”
“What did you do？”I asked.
