(This article is narrated from my personal perspective and what happened in my daily life (part of the plot is added by myself) (please read it as an essay))
Just to commemorate him
On April 18, X year, he left this world
"He said that when I think of it, he will be there in my memory and will always be there."
People often say that death is not the end, forgetfulness is.
(Actually, my real relationship with him was when we were young. We knew each other for many years. He passed away in the second year of junior high school. I wrote this article just to commemorate him (the name has elements of both of us but was chosen separately). This one was changed to more polyamorous.)
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I often think of the rain in April, often dream about him, and wake up at night, the tears in the corners of my eyes always wet the pillow towel. After waking up, I suddenly realized that he was really gone...
In the dream, I went back to the past. He was sitting by the window holding his guitar, and I was writing a manuscript next to him. The cat was sitting next to me with his eyes closed, pressing the manuscript.
The wind blew the curtains and the pen rustled on the paper.
Dreams always wake up
Opening your eyes, he disappeared.
It seems like I'm the only one left...
Everything seemed like it had never happened before, like an imaginary dream with no ending.
Intention: Death is not the end, forgetting is
