I think the four words "passive posture" are a reflection of my life in the past twenty-five years. I can't rely on anyone, and I can't change. My mutilated body is in a wheelchair and I can't move. I just watch the pain wrap me up like a walking zombie. I don't want to hug you, but I really hope that you can hug me tightly, so tight that my face turns red, my heart beats, my breath stops, and I have no wish to sleep peacefully.
If I could go back, if I could go back to the past, I wish I wasn't so embarrassed when I first met you. At least when you recall me, you can admit in your heart that you like me. I know that time is cruel and never pities me. But I don't know if the years after you will be the gift I have longed for. I am in every moment. Late at night, I am lost in the beautiful memories where you stayed, describing the blossoming future with you. Whenever I open my eyes and return to this moment in reality, I can't find a trace of your existence. I am in pain, as if the whole universe has abandoned me, leaving me to linger alone. Life has become meaningless, and even breathing is so cheap.
It's your turn to tell me how you will choose.
Intention: We have been together for three years, and I have never regretted it. I just have a lot of regrets. I always feel that I have not taken better care of you and have not done what you want to do with you. If possible, I would like to take a walk and chat with you again and smile happily.