Dear S:
Zhan Xinjia, please forgive me for calling you S.
Because the first word I heard from your mouth was Sol, I always like to call you that. Later I found out that you were speaking Spanish at that time, and Sol means sun.
From then on you became my unique sun.
You probably don't know, but I secretly liked you the first time I met you.
You were standing in the sunshine at the corner of the stairs that day, but I didn't even have the courage to say hello to you, even though we were so close.
In the past three years, I have been so close to you many, many times, but I only dared to pass you by with my eyes lowered.
I had made up my mind to put an end to this secret love.
Before the deadline comes, I must tell you that I like you.
Unfortunately, due to an accident, I had to leave Xiwu.
The day I left, I sat on a long-distance bus and listened to "while your lips are still red" over and over again.
That's the song you once sang in the New Year's Day performance.
I looked at the shining sun outside the car window, thinking that on the day when the college entrance examination ends, I must listen to this song, take this bus, come back to Xiwu to see you, and see the boy who was as dazzling as the sun in my desolate youth.
But dear S, I couldn't wait until that day.
I died in the summer before the college entrance examination.
A murder buried me and the love I never got to tell you.
My bones are still buried where the sun cannot reach.
But it doesn't matter, the murderer will be caught soon.
The diary that disappeared with me will definitely see the light of day again.
Dear S, please forgive me for disturbing you so presumptuously.
You are no longer the sun to me alone, but to many people.
I have fallen from the sun.
If, one day, you receive my diary, please remember that on a good night when you were singing with headphones on, you once used the glimmer in your eyes to shake off the sparks in the sky for a girl.
And that was the best moment of her life.
Best wishes,
X
Reading guide:
1. BE [emphasis added], there will be another version of the copy posted on Weibo
2. Third person, a suspenseful short story about secret love, letting oneself go & cutting one's own legs. The title comes from Neruda's poem "Light from the Remaining Flames"
Copy archived on 04/19/2023
Intention: Think again