I once put her on the altar with my own hands as my only way to fight against the nothingness of the world.
One belief. She is the North Star that I cannot touch, and I am willing to sacrifice
Offer your own sacrifice. I greedily absorbed the warmth in her eyes, but when she came closer, I turned away out of fear - a person who is starving in love, suddenly faced with a feast, his first reaction is to shrink.
We all clumsily fell in love with the imprint of family. I thought love was suffocating control, she thought love was watching without asking for a response. We are friends
In the name of love, in reality, they exchange love in countless dark nights.
Words that are more intimate than a lover. Until she threw the words "I love you" in front of me, like a hot bullet, piercing all my pretense of calmness.
I write all of this as if I were conducting archeology on a site. Those missed
The phone call, the misplaced joys and sorrows at the graduation ceremony, the unfinished business at the crossroads
The confession, and the moon lamp that stared at me through countless sleepless nights... Are all the evidence I dedicated to this hopeless faith. I am both her devout believer and an incorrigible mortal who pushed her away with my own hands.
This is a story about "misplacement" - the misplacement of sorrow and joy, the misplacement of love and time, the misplacement of gods and mortals.
You still exist in this world, but not in my world, but I still guard this ruins, waiting for your voice, missing your figure, your
Everything is like the never-ending sound of wind chimes, every sentence is waking me up from my delusion.
Author's statement: It is recommended that underage readers read under the guidance of their guardians. Some chapters of the work are purely fictitious and should not be imitated.
Intent: Love and pain (no ill effects)