"What are you planning?"
This is the question he asks me most.
When I was eighteen years old, I found him in the hospital. He had just come off the black boxing ring, his hands were wrapped in bandages, and his adoptive father's medical records were pressed under his pillow.
He showed me the verdict, returned the unopened letters to me, and said, "Do you see clearly? People like me should stay away."
I said, "See clearly."
Then I asked him: "Then why do you still keep it?"
——
Later he told me that that day he wanted me to give up completely.
But he forgot that since he gave me the last toffee when he was nine years old, I have no intention of letting go.
Intention: run in both directions to save each other.
