That year you abandoned me for your beloved, yet you told me "take good care of yourself," just like in winter when you gently pushed the puppy out of the house and said: "Go on, you are free now."

So, from the age of 16, I have been struggling alone until today, and everything I have done is for you, but you can no longer see what I have done for you.

Although I am very aware that there will be no more days of meeting you in this life, during countless difficult days and nights, I have been supported by my longing for you. After deeply missing you to the extreme, I finally came to a great realization:

To fantasize about being loved is a kind of illness; accepting not being loved is the ultimate freedom.

What did I do at 9, 11, 14, and 16 years old? Some of it you know very well, some you don't, but from these events, I have to acknowledge a despairing fact:

Even if I really disappeared, you wouldn't care at all how I feel;

I was lucky to have rescued it, and I even want to apologize to you for my actions.

Since that day, I have been fighting alone with the sky, the earth, and my life until today, and I have been fighting for twenty years, and when I was exhausted to the extreme, I finally waited for you to pick me up, just like when I was a child, I waited for you to pick me up from school

For twenty years, he has clearly been tormenting himself, yet he still foolishly believes he is moving heaven. After twenty years of obsession, it is time for an end; dust returns to dust, soil returns to soil, a game, a dream, everything is void...