As smart as you are, how could you make such a mess of yourself if you are so smart?
You should still be as gentle and bright as before, just like the arrogant character in Greek mythology. Even if you stay in a crowded environment, you are still the object of attention. And I, even after eighteen hundred years, am still me, hanging around in lower-class schools with messy hair, fighting to the death for the last piece of boiled fish in the cafeteria and my good classmates who love each other, wearing expensive brand names and showing off in school.
But even so, I still feel lonely as never before.
Terrible loneliness.
In the dead of night, I always think of you. I close my eyes, and the boundless darkness sweeps over me. Then I slowly start to recall your face, your arrogant chin, your slightly narrowed eyes when looking at a person, and then your smile. Although it is really rare, it is really warm, just like the warm sunshine in winter, bright and beautiful. There is a small light brown mole at the corner of your left eye, and the emotional line on your right hand is straight and deep. After these tiny things began to appear in my mind, I began to think about the story between us over and over again, but this was in vain. I could only think of you in tiny pieces, piece by piece, no longer complete.