The black hair turns into snow, and the face withers.
The light and shadow passing silently are mottled and blurred in front of my eyes. The words I have said, the things I have done, the people I have met, and the scenes that were once vivid and beating like my heart, have become so far away since when.
It's too far away, like it never happened.
Probably just on a whim, I wanted to sort out the pile of things that seemed to never be touched again in my life. I was still young at that time, and I valued certain things too much, and whether I got it or not seemed to be a big deal.
I can't bear just one look.
It's so pure that I don't know how to describe it.
The man silently turned over the old things, and the dust raised glowed gray in the light, giving it an old and gentle texture.
Many years have passed.
The faint remaining glory of youth on the face that had been eroded by time shimmered slightly in this half-light and half-dark corner. An almost imperceptible smile poured out from the corners of his tightly pursed lips.
There's nothing else I can't let go of. Many years have passed since the things I thought were outrageous back then, the despair that could never be overcome, and the things I couldn't escape.
Many years.
The man lowered his head, covered his eyes with dusty hands, and arched his back against the wall, as if he couldn't support his body otherwise.
The suppressed and obscure sobs leaked from his fingertips, so weak and so obvious.
There are always some people and some things that you can't let go of for the rest of your life.