I woke up early, packed my bag, and left the house. I said to myself, I want to see the scenery meant for two, all by myself.
The cool morning breeze blows by, the traffic flows like a tide, yet I’ve lost my direction, the thought of going to see you has vanished. I got off the bus and strolled leisurely on the checkered brick sidewalk, feeling as if I’ve lost myself, without any hint of joy. All I see are the scenes of us hand in hand, smiling as we passed by, like the sunlight, painfully piercing my heart.
With my head down, hands in my pockets, I walk, aimlessly reminiscing, which spot we exchanged words, which brick you’ve tread upon before. Now, as I step on them, do you feel my weight, feel that my heart overlaps with yours? Ah, how foolish. So foolish of me.
In truth, I’ve always been secretly thinking, imagining the look on your face when you see me before you, the surprise that would cross your eyes. Would you stand there dumbfounded, or would you eagerly embrace me? I’ve fantasized countless ways you might smile, and with each thought, I feel that this idea is wonderful. Because I’ve missed you for a very, very long time. You’re so clever; you know I truly want to surprise you.
Just yesterday, I mentioned to you that fate is an intangible, elusive thing, something you can’t see or touch. And I’ve never believed in fate. People often attribute many coincidental moments, events, and encounters to fate, claiming they are the results of it. Ah, I don’t believe.
I take every accomplishment that aligns with my thoughts as an affirmation of my actions and capabilities. It has nothing to do with fate. Perhaps that sounds too absolute. Hence, I suddenly thought of this phrase: in truth, there’s everything but no fate. Such a helpless statement, as if I’ve heard it long ago, and it makes me feel very sad upon hearing it. It turns out, I’m just afraid of being sad, which is why I never wanted to believe in fate.
I dare not look into your eyes, nor can I bear to see your smiling face, for fear that I might not be able to hold back and cry in front of you. I know you don’t like to see me sad. I want you to focus on your interview, with only a little time left to review some materials, I can’t afford to distract you. I must tell you, this is enough. You like it when I’m always so spirited, bantering with you, playfully teasing, even when I scold you, you still enjoy it.
You said, you know, I’m even sadder than you are, right? So, I don’t dare cry in front of you. I only smile at you.
I said, I want you to hold me.
You replied, okay, next time I’ll let you hold me as much as you want, not letting you leave my arms for a single second. My embrace will be warm in winter.
I said, then you have to kiss me.
You said, alright, then I won’t let my lips leave yours either. We’ll pause when we can’t breathe, then continue.
I looked and foolishly laughed, then foolishly cried.
The weather forecast has been continuously announcing the coming of a cold wave. I thought of bringing you all the warmth for the next two or three months. To go with you to buy some warm clothes, because you always say it’s so cold when you get up at two in the morning, because I said I wanted you to feel the warmth. I’m afraid that if we don’t see each other for too long, you’ll forget what I look like, you’ll forget my habits and quirks. Afraid that if I don’t see you for too long, I’ll only search for your shadow in my dreams, and I won’t be able to write a single word because of missing you. Yes, it’s very hard.
Last night, I had a dream, a very clear one. In the dream, you sent me a letter. In a vernacular style, with smooth wording, it spoke about the direction of life and comforting words for me, telling me that everything is fine and not to worry. Ah, my dear, I think I’m really bewitched.