The author of this article: Tang Bohu
Copyright ©Ah Huan's Strawberry Planet}
I have a disease - paranoia, which I have had since childhood. Although it seemed to be cured later, at that time I could not negotiate with people normally. As I grew older, I became more and more withdrawn and sensitive, and my world seemed to be only black.
I love painting. It is customary to light a light in a dimly lit room and enter this undisturbed space.
I thought I would live this life until I was 24 years old, when a boy I had never met broke into my world and changed me.
He, with a straightforward personality and warm treatment of me, always wore clean and plain clothes and smiled at me like a sun.
He said he liked my work so much that he visited me a lot. He would teach me to cook, talk to me, and guide me to meet the outside world.
He knew me well, knew my preferences, knew my past, and even knew everything I hated.
Gradually, I got used to his presence. He was like another me, because because of him, I seemed to have the belief to live.
I began to become confident, no longer timid, dare to push open the door, and take the initiative to embrace this strange world.
Everything is getting better and better... But he didn't show up much, he came less and less each time, and stayed shorter and shorter.
Later, I met a classmate who also adored me.
Once out of an emergency, he took his apprentice home to get the manuscript. I eagerly opened the door only to see him appear in the living room, and my anxious heart suddenly became calm.
The sunlight outside the window sprinkled on him, just as clean and charming as when I first met him.
"Brother, let me introduce you, this is..."
"Wow, senior, you live alone in such a big house!" The apprentice sighed and looked up and down the house.
I was a little dazed, watching him smile at me and waving goodbye to me. He's dissipating, dissipating, dissipating...
I panicked and ran toward him, but it was too late, I couldn't touch him, and he disappeared in the middle of the wandering. And I didn't have time to think, a headache, I lost consciousness, fell to the ground...
I woke up in the hospital. Through the doctor's words, I understood: it turned out that this so-called fan was just an unconscious self-help of my brain in decadence and depravity.
Those times with him have always been my fantasies, he is a man without identity, he never existed.
I couldn't control my emotions and broke down and cried.
In the hospital bed, I drew him again and again with a choking gasp, trying to prove his existence with painting, but no matter how I painted, it was not like him.
The face suddenly became incomplete and blurry in the memory, and I was forgetting him, little by little slowly forgetting.
I could not forget this, and I locked myself in that dark room and painted him endlessly, but I never succeeded.
On the day of the winter invasion, he seemed to come again, he touched the sleeping me, and said softly: "Time will heal everything."
Five years on, I'm alive again.
Since then, I have never been ill again.
I became optimistic and cheerful, dared to talk to others, had friends, worked well, and everything got better and better. Whenever someone asks me about my past, I always say:
"I had a friend who told me to say goodbye to the past, and I had who I am now."
"So is he okay with you now?"
"He's gone... But since then, the heart that was rotten and sinking has since beat for two people. ”
You're good, I know, and I'm fine too.