It has been more than a year since I came to Shenzhen, I have cried, laughed, loved, hated, and finally lived alone. I don't know if I came out of her or not, but now I accept the fact that she left, and I no longer fantasize about how to save her, and then how to live happily. Now that she thinks about it, she no longer has the heartache she had in her heart, but the current state is that she feels that she is not interested in anything, does not want to learn new things, and has to get by.
Like tonight I sat alone in the office until late, looking at my phone in a daze. Finally another person went to buy fruit. As a result, on the stairs back to the dormitory, I suddenly remembered something, and my heart was empty, and I was going to come back to eat some fruit and sit for a while and go to take a bath and sleep, but one by one I heard the old song from Miyazaki Hayao's "The Wind Rises" and heard Yoshida Akiko's ありがとうござざす finally heard Zhang Wei's "Machine Spirit Chopper" one after another, saying that I only heard 22 o'clock to go to the shower, but when I wrote that it would be 22:32. I think this should be regarded as loneliness, the heart is actually not a taste, but want to change and do not want to move, some time ago saw a word called habitual failure (probably this word), roughly this meaning: when a person begins to experience failure is, successive failures, do not succeed in doing anything, the final result will make this person become something before he has accepted failure. I'm not sure if I'm the problem. Maybe even I saw an appointment with a psychiatrist two months ago, thinking that I secretly went to see a psychiatrist that day, but on the other hand, I couldn't accept the result of my illness.
So my current state may really be changing, I am no longer forcing you to come back, and even I will not deliberately inquire about your news, I don't know how to go in the future, whether it is a person who keeps walking to the end, or someone waiting for me at the intersection in front. But I don't have the luxury of hope, let it be, one person, although a little lonely, but there will be no one who is hurt because of whom. (The only thing I'm sorry for when I say this is my dad, and my dad is sorry.)
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