All the brilliance we once experienced in life eventually requires solitude as repayment.
Sometimes, when wronged, we try not to cry, but a simple question from another can trigger an uncontrollable flow of tears. Life is a path with both shortcuts and detours; youth is a mountain that we must climb regardless of its height or danger; Youth is a river that we must cross regardless of its depth or current; youth is a song that we must keep singing, whether in sorrow or joy.
Those days filled with beautiful memories are called time. Am I missing time? No. Am I missing you? Not really. I miss the version of myself before I met you.
I never had high expectations for growth. Perhaps because I am a nostalgic person, no matter what I experience or how I change, I always long for my younger self—the version of me whose joy and sorrow were more authentic than they are now or ever will be.
We favor the past because the bitterness of those times has dissolved with time, leaving only sweetness. This is why people love to reminisce.
It's a pity I was too young to understand love and let go before I could be brave. Yet, you remain the best I've ever met. You are so unforgettable that even after all this time, my memories remain clear. I occasionally check your social media to see how you are. I miss you.
No one in this world is useless; everyone will eventually be someone's "someone," the person someone needs most.
Lingering beautiful memories become the last trace of warmth after a parting. People pass through each other's lives, help during the hardest times, and then go their separate ways. Some fly, some take root. Time will bear witness to it all.
Along the way, friends fade away. Perhaps life is just this: constantly meeting new people, growing, and becoming more stoic.
