When fate departs, love turns into a memory.
When you said you were leaving, tears blurred my vision. In that instant, I felt as if everything in the world was solidifying. Watching your figure gradually vanish into the distance, I realized how attached I was to you, like a lost lamb yearning for home.
As you turned away, I saw the helplessness and desolation on your face, and the familiar feeling between your brows. I discovered how important you were to me, for you had become an integral part of my life.
I cannot imagine the helplessness I would feel in the years without you, nor can I envision the desolation of days without your presence. I do not know the reason for your departure, nor do I wish to know. Since there is a choice, there must be your reason. No matter how reluctant I am, no matter how much it hurts.
When I saw you off, I increasingly felt that love is a kind of fate. When love is by your side, it is called happiness. The feeling of happiness is like a cup of fragrant tea, emitting a faint fragrance to you and me, whether strong or light. It allows you to feel a warmth and comfort, intentionally or unintentionally.
When love drifts away from you, you come to know that fate is so fleeting. We, who are out of fate, are out of happiness, out of heart-to-heart communication. When love is gone, there is no more talk of fate. Fate gathers and scatters, it comes and goes, this is the feeling of love. When the feeling of love disappears, fate is like evaporating water vapor, vanishing into the air. But why do I miss you so much, now that we have lost our fate?
Having lost fate, our love can only become a memory. It is a memory buried deep in the heart. When you no longer appear before my eyes, your figure can only appear in my dreams. In the dream, I wonder how we meet? I do not know if seeing you in a dream can be as happy and carefree as before, if we can still lean on each other as we used to.
Even if love truly becomes a thing of the past, I am still thinking of you, thinking of our days and nights together, thinking of every little moment we shared. Then I will store the past in my heart, carving out a corner for this love, as a token of our love.
In one’s life, there may be many people you like, but the one you deeply love, perhaps there is only one. You, with fate, and I, without it, missed the season of blooming flowers, and thus can only let this love linger far away.
Only spring remains the same, the scenery remains the same, but love is no longer there. Only the wind is still light, the sky is still blue, but the heart is no longer light, no longer as light and beautiful as a cloud. For fate is gone, love has become a past like smoke.