A lonely person

In every city, after revelry, in moments of loneliness, in sadness, I still often think of you. Without you, even the finest food and the most beautiful scenery lose their flavor. I've started to wonder if I'm depressed or something. After so many separations and betrayals, I've begun to protect my fragile heart like a hedgehog.
Now I'm almost indestructible, immune to all poisons. I can travel alone to unfamiliar cities, I can sleep alone in waiting rooms. I'm no longer afraid of days without you… I truly can do all of this.
Even wandering alone, I won't feel the insecurity and timidity of the young boy I once was. Time has passed, will our feelings fade? Spring flowers wither, autumn leaves don't turn yellow. My beloved, my friend, my brother, where are you now? How are you doing? Do you, like me, often think of the years we spent together, the little things we shared?
So many people and sights have changed around me. I've changed countless phones, but the songs on my phone that haven't changed are still the same: Ten Years, Back Off, I Don't Deserve It, Later, All the Way North, Excuse, and so on.
These songs accompanied me through the most difficult days, and I'm grateful for them, like I'm grateful to someone who's been so kind to me.
When I listen to them, it's as if you're right beside me. I listen to them when I'm happy, and I listen to them when I'm sad. It's like they're all I have left.
Hearing these songs in the darkness reminds me of myself back then; these memories are like faded photographs in a drawer, filled with vicissitudes and stories.
They're not just songs; they're like little spirits who accompanied me through the darkest days of my life. Perhaps that's why I, someone who's never had an idol, have come to like only one singer, Jay Chou. Yes, I like him a lot, now and forever.
I follow the river of memories, hoping to see you, to find information about your life after I left. But I always come up empty-handed; I can only helplessly see fragments of your life in your online space or on WeChat. Every time I see this, tears stream down my face. Are the people who promised each other a lifetime still around? I often ask myself this question.
Innocent me, arms outstretched, walks alone in the desolate rain on the empty street. It's the same old road. You were with me when you came, but where are you now? I hate people who promise forever these days. I hate them so much. I left, carrying my dreams. I aspired to be a writer, or an editor.
I don't know if aspiration counts as a dream or an ideal. When I left, I said I would remember you forever. You said you would forget this fleeting feeling. Indeed, as you said, I went to another place to study and live. I quickly forgot you. Perhaps you were right then, or perhaps you were wrong. Later, I often think of you at night, just like I thought of you back then.
In my youthful ignorance, I doubted the world more than once, wondering if it was a huge, huge deception. How many times did I wander the streets, hesitant, indecisive, and directionless? The city's fast pace made it difficult for someone like me, who isn't usually impatient, to keep up. I started crying, feeling lonely, alone in countless dark nights.
I started drinking and humming songs late at night, imagining you or the days when you were here. Even the most mundane, trivial things surfaced after you left, so clear and vivid. After you left this city, I met many people, men and women, but none of them could stay with me for long, not even for more than five years.
Although I encountered a relationship, it didn't last a year before it withered away. I began to disbelieve in love. I slowly sank into the world of emotions, falling into a bottomless abyss of sorrow from which I could never heal. So much so that when I later met someone good and fell in love, I silently kept it in my heart, silently wishing her well. After she left, I was very lonely. I still ate alone, went to class, attended classes, left class, read books, listened to music. I traveled everywhere, wandering alone, stopping and starting. I think what I lost was not myself.
That dream, I lingered in it for so long, even if I woke up battered and bruised, I would still be willing. But even after waking, I would be powerless. There are too many tears in this world, you would never understand. The dream you dream of, the dream of the distant future, is something I can never reach. You are in the distance, but my understanding of the distance is completely different. How ridiculous you are, yet I can never reach you.

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A lonely person

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