Why? I cannot hate what I should hate, and I love what I should not love. If there is an afterlife, I don't want to meet you again, never taste this heart-gnawing pain, never touch this poison of love again. The poppy of love is an addiction or a poison. If you can't quit it or forget it, you can only let it sink in again and again. In the end, you can only use death to end this endless pain. I am just addicted to the poppy of love, but you planted it in my heart, allowed it to take root and sprout, and used your life to cultivate it.