The person in my heart is just a fading shadow. In the light-years of erasing time, behind forgetfulness is whose aged face. Many of my friends have disappeared without a trace. Looking back at what was once called the past, some people vanish from the internet as if they never existed, leaving behind only cold words. Life is my own, words are my own, memories are my own, and the time that can be sealed away is also my own. Those words were once so familiar, the seemingly similar emotions once deeply warmed my heart, remaining wonderful in a moment of memory.
Missing someone is a kind of flavor. Nostalgia is an emotion. The internet stands firm, while netizens come and go; when the day comes that I choose to leave, who will remember me?
Many times, I feel as if I am simply a dandelion, aimlessly dancing across the sky when the wind blows, unable to find the direction that truly belongs to me. Many people leave without saying goodbye, just as youth quietly ends in the flow of time.
My words have chilled my cheeks; whose sorrow have they infected? I do not know.
Some people, whether present or absent, seen or unseen, truly no longer matter. The story grandly concludes in the time of youth. Your sincerity, your pretense, will ultimately be crushed under the wheels of time and turn to ashes. The aged face erases the last ray of sunset.
I no longer want to mention a certain person or certain memories. Those beautiful aspects of life gradually wither day by day. Amidst the bustling world, who will remember whose smile? Who will remember whose sorrow? When I let my fingers fly across the keyboard, emotions melt into the words. I often enjoy this feeling and sink into it. In fact, I fully understand, all of this has nothing to do with anyone. Please do not take it personally.
I do not wish anyone to disturb my peaceful life. The opposite of love is not hate; it is forgetfulness, it is silence. Exiting a life that never belonged to me, I have chosen patience. I have learned to remain calm, until forgetting. Those beautiful moments are just part of the past. The tears that fell long ago have already frozen the earliest memories. Longing and reminiscence wander through my words, merely a sentiment, a calmness like still water.
Farewell means never seeing each other again. All the beauty and sadness have long been fixed on the tracks of each other's lives. Looking at each other, in the end, we simply forget one another. No longer meeting. No longer loving. No longer connected. Farewell truly means never seeing you again.If you cannot love deeply, then please forget fiercely. Whose youth fades in whose story, like a series of unspeakable scenes. Forgetting whose face, aging whose heart.
PS: Actually, my heart aches a lot while writing these words. I understand your reluctance. I also see my own reluctance. It's just that we have learned to turn away, yet we have not learned to truly be strangers. When all of that has become the past and no longer exists, please forget me, tonight.
It is best not to meet, so we won't fall in love.
It is best not to know each other, so we won't yearn for each other.
It is best not to accompany each other, so we won't owe each other.
It is best not to cherish each other, so we won't reminisce about each other.
It is best not to love each other, so we won't abandon each other.
It is best not to face each other, so we won't meet again.
It is best not to be mistaken, so we won't fail each other.
It is best not to promise each other, so we won't continue what we cannot.
