Completely disappeared

     I want you to never find me again. What we've gained is nothing special; what we've lost, what we never had, is truly precious. I'm reluctant to let go, unwilling to sever ties with the past. I still can't forget, still can't imagine growing old alone like this. I'm still holding onto my initial goodness, slowly watching misunderstandings blossom and bear fruit, step by step , becoming a tomb.

    If you are a poem in my life, how can I sing it without betraying the beauty of its melody?

    If you never truly blossomed, how can I preserve it to ensure my parched heart can rise again, becoming tomorrow's moon, illuminating the way home?

    If you've always been listening to my resounding songs every night, is there a touch of clumsy brilliance that makes you momentarily forget the gentleness of spring, remembering only the wandering of my heart?

    And all my unwilling desires stem from those unappreciated monologues. The dialogue I wrote for you, the analysis of my self-talk, and the early symptoms of depression left for the night.

    I have to face the world honestly and realistically, confront the logic of skepticism. Something within me is indeed broken; the incompleteness of my personality constantly worries my parents and friends. I can't stop these facts from happening, nor can I force myself to forget the past.

    Even if it's just bravado, even if it's just pretending, one still has to keep smiling foolishly!

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