Did I really fall in love with him? Even covered in scars, wherever I go, I see his shadow. It turns out that it wasn’t just his habit of tapping his watch that shaped my sense of time. My habit of writing down names had shaped the way he kept records, too. Now that we’ve forcibly severed every connection between us, the pain is unbearable. The severed ends are still bleeding. It’s as if we were twins who had always depended on each other, suddenly separated by surgery. We stagger when we walk, can’t do things properly, and can’t get used to being apart, because the connection between our nerves hasn’t been severed yet. Time is a slow scalpel.
Theme:
Oh oh.. 8 Wrong is subtle but very real.. Like!!!