My Ex Is a Cosplayer

Couldn't sleep in the middle of the night, so I got up and browsed my social feed. Honestly, sometimes I really hate this creepy feature of Tencent's. Whenever I use QQ, it always dutifully shows me our mutual friends. The moment my fingertip touched your profile picture, tears finally streamed down my face. Wen Bei, I thought I could forget you completely, just as I once threw my arms around you without hesitation three years ago. But whenever I come across a romance magazine, an ambiguous status update, or a love story on film, your face always comes to mind. Maybe, at nineteen, you were the first person to teach me what the heartbreaking word "love" really meant. The nights are always tedious and dull. Like this bustling city, we walk through its streets, watching more and more towering buildings rise, while the innocence of our student days is gradually buried and left to rot. I don't know why, but whenever I look at your photos, I remember the past. Just like all those years ago, I liked walking past you in pretty dresses, and you never even noticed me. Still, it made me feel accomplished. Wen Bei, look: every time I changed for the better, it was because of you. My friends have no idea why I like you. I know nothing about your family, your life, or your parents, but I like you anyway. Maybe it's your handsome face, or maybe it's your enviable grades. People are all perfectionists, and from the very first moment I saw you, I fell deeply in love. It was a feeling I couldn't escape, a heart-stopping rush that made my heart pound. But I knew you didn't like me, just as every swan despises the ugly duckling beside it. You said, "Love is a feeling, but I'm sorry, I don't feel that way about you." You said, "Look at all those couples walking together on the street. They're tall or short, fat or thin, and they're together because of how they feel." And so I understood. You had no feelings for me. No matter how hard I tried, how excellent I became, or how diligently I worked, you would never like me, because you simply didn't feel that way about me. I opened your profile because, naturally, I wanted to know how you'd been doing in the three years since graduation. I saw your ambiguous conversation with a girl on your message board, and it hurt so much. I once laughed and told my friends, "If the boy I've had a crush on for three years ever gets a girlfriend, and I find out he loves her even more than I love him, it'll hurt worse than dying." Worse than death! From now on, you'll be able to run all over town just to buy her a cup of milk tea. You'll shelter her from the wind and rain, taking off your own coat in the cold and putting it around her shoulders. You'll go shopping with her, your hands full of bags of every size. You can even put your arm around her and announce to everyone that she's your girlfriend. By comparison, my existence feels so insignificant and powerless. I dated a guy in Mianyang who could do all those things, but his love wasn't pure. He would never love me with the same madness and obsession that I felt for you. Once, at a karaoke bar, I was so drunk I could barely see straight. I was lying on the sofa when he came over to help me up, only to see my face covered in tears as I kept calling your name. Wen Bei, Wen Bei, for three years I've been trying to find an answer. You said you didn't have feelings for me, but can't feelings grow over time? I would do anything for you, no matter the hardship, so why wouldn't you give me even one chance? When I was studying in Chengdu, our schools were only separated by a wall. So many times I wanted to climb over it and come find you, but I was afraid: afraid of your indifferent gaze, your disappointed expression, your angry face. I had already sworn not to disturb your life again, but I still can't let you go. Otherwise, I wouldn't be lying awake night after night, only to wake with tears soaking my pillow. Three years, then another three. The subway lines in Chengdu have been rerouted several times, snow has fallen in Mianyang more than once, the pigeons in People's Park have circled the sky countless times, and I've listened to the songs you love over and over. Over these three years, I've finished my internship. I've completed several novels and written countless short stories. The male leads still bear your shadow. I've never thought of not loving you. I still can't sleep. I still... miss you so much. Theme: