The River of Forgetfulness, the River Styx, the vast swathes of Manzhushahua, and me on the river bank, everything was the same as before, but everything in front of me felt inexplicably empty.
Manzhushahua asks me every year, they are so beautiful, why do I cry when I see them? I remember my answer was the same every time - because it was so beautiful, I felt so lucky, so I cried.
Actually, this is not true.
I cried because everything was still there, but the person beside me disappeared.
Perhaps, instead of disappearing, it is despair.