The day I found my fiancé, he had lost his memory and there was another girl standing next to him.
I didn't say who I was. I said, I am your sister.
He sells fish on a small island, and I help him kill the fish, bag them, and greet the customers. He and that girl are getting married at the end of the month, and I smile and wish them happiness.
He said: "Sister, who gave you the ring on your finger?"
I said, "A person who is no longer here."
He didn't know that the "person who was gone" was him.
He doesn't know that I have been looking for him for three years.
He didn't know that my illness was running out of time.
I only have two months left.
These twenty-seven days were the last, stolen time I had with him in my life.
——I would like to write this article to commemorate a farewell that cannot be said.
