Meeting you during my desolate and wandering times, you gave me so much encouragement and comfort. Whenever I wept in sadness, it was you who listened to the hardships of my life; whenever I felt lonely and melancholic, it was you who stayed by my side, offering warmth.
Calmness and simplicity, sadness and joy—perhaps this is a mature state of mind. Thus, I have come to understand that in a simple and ordinary life, some people are merely passersby, leaving behind nothing but a wound in the heart and a lingering memory.
I do not know what I am waiting for; I only know that the faint emotions have gradually turned into sorrow. Every word I write is a moment carved into memory—a departure without a goodbye, where every letter on the paper tells a story of parting.
Meeting the right person at the right time is a blessing. But when we met, the season of love had already passed. Loving you is destined to bring a touch of melancholy; I always longed to spend my days and nights with my beloved, yet I met you—the one I cannot stay with.
The spring rain is full of sentimentality. The March breeze brushes my temples with a soft ambiguity. The March rain whispers tenderness under my umbrella. I walk alone amidst the vibrant colors, following the footprints of spring.
In this world, no one can live exactly as they wish, for there are too many uncertainties and unknowns, and we are not the center of the universe. Some things come to us without effort or clinging, while others remain out of reach no matter how hard we strive or hold on. We must learn to accept what belongs to us and what does not, without compulsion or preoccupation. Ultimately, we will find that our past stubbornness was nothing more than a farce in the eyes of others.
