Time flies

     Sometimes silence is more terrifying than turmoil. The silence may be the final explosion of anger. But at that moment of explosion, nothing matters anymore, not even words. It's not that there are no thoughts, no resentment, no desire to struggle; it's just exhaustion. So in the final moment, all I want is stillness. To be like when I'm asleep, without thought, without pressure.

    After struggling for so long, the result is still the same. I endure, but I will admit defeat. Some things shouldn't be endured; that only makes things more painful. Letting go is truly a relief, even if I feel a temporary loss. Sometimes we automatically choose to forget things that are meaningless and cause us pain. Or perhaps we deliberately recall happy memories, until in the end, the memories are overflowing, making separation all the more difficult. No matter how unbearable the process, I still remember the good things.

    Time slips away, those who came, those who went. Slowly, I begin to calm down, to become indifferent, appearing nonchalant, as if nothing matters. I've learned to pretend, but I've truly forgotten how strong I once was. Just like you said, everything is on its way. People, events, everything—that's probably true. Perhaps at the next crossroads, or in a fleeting glance, time will stand still. If we meet, we meet. If we part, we part. That's all.

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