I don't know when to start, a few boxes of lifeless smoking a day, like the smoke that swallows, can replace her to accompany me.
The thought of her was mixed with too many complicated emotions during that time, for a while I did not know how to distinguish between resentment and love, pain and pleasure, during the day I worked desperately, trying to redeem myself with busyness, but at night, I could only raise my hand and surrender, I even began to envy those who had lost love, at least they were not as unresolved as me, not like me, always struggling and tangled between loss and thought.
We lost touch like that, not so much as losing, not knowing how to start contacting, I didn't get a text message from her, I didn't know what to write to her, every time I dialed the number, I couldn't always press the callout button.
Every time I heard the phone ring, I quickly checked, but I could see that the name flashing on the screen was not her, and I couldn't help but be disappointed. I fantasized that she might be like me, and if so, should I make a decisive call to her, but what if she wasn't?
Every time I see her QQ avatar lit up, there will always be a burst of depression, such depression is like a big hand, tightly grasping the heart, squeezing out all the air inside, slowing down to find that the tears have come out of the eyes. Such a loss is more torturous than a painful breakup, because it seems to be waiting for a beginning, it is like waiting for an end, and at the end you don't know what you are waiting for.
"How are you?"
"Pretty good, what about you?"
"I'm fine too."
"Did we break up?"
"Take care of yourself".
The four words "take care of yourself" are like a black joke, and it hurts to tie your life.
After hanging up the phone, I felt as if I had taken off a heavy coat and felt a burst of relief. But why are there tears?
After that, I feel empty all the time, and the time I missed her before can't be filled, books, movies, music or carnivals... Eventually it will turn into a deep loneliness that is suffocating.
Perhaps it is because there are too many entanglements, pains, divisions and harmonies in this time, so that this period of time is unprecedentedly long, as if it were a world away. We finally talk about this love that separates the two places, and the farther we talk.
I had to face the reality, we broke up, we were no longer in touch, but she still maintained a strong presence in my world, as if everything was related to her, anything that entered her eyes hid her breath, she was like a needle hidden in the heart, and if she didn't pay attention, she stabbed into my heart fiercely.
I still miss her, I still love her, she still lives firmly in my heart – it's a fact I can't ignore, just this fact, I don't have the courage to face and bear it, it's too heavy, the pressure is overwhelming me. If that's what love looks like, then I don't want to have it again for the rest of my life.
I feel sick not lightly.
Some people say that a tortuous love makes a person a philosopher, but I did not become a philosopher, but became a peaceful and contented person.
I feel sick not lightly.