Most of the time I wrote in Chinese, but sometimes I prefer write in English. I do not know how I defined them and which language to use. Due to this, somehow my mind separated into two parts or two worlds; one is not bad and the other is homesick. I am writing in English without refined words, just something I want to spit it out.
Actually, I do not want to be as brave as my classmates think: how brave I am to be here by myself, how brave I studied abroad far from my hometown, etc.; probably I just get a weak connection to other, to my friends and my family.
I know that kind of feeling, comparing to those anxious emotion based on far from home, I am more scared of the emotion makes me nervous when I know I will go back in the future. I am not ready, I know, not ready to say goodbye to you, not ready to end up the story, although it was ended by your texts. I am not sure I can do this, face to you, say hi to you, as if we have been known each other for a long time. I should stay back and keep this out there temporarily. It is better for me.
This is what we said: Jin Hsiang Ching Gung Cheuh , which means getting closer to the hometown, you will be more timid. I want to see you but, on the contrary, I do not. So annoying. I also afraid that you will forget me if you meet a new person and have new memories and go to the new place, then forget about me, forever.
Winter is getting closer and your appearance is fading out. I told you I am more compassionate than before, I think it is because this time, I took this relationship so serious that I almost believed that we can take care of each other – for always.
Would you know that every time I tried to touch it, the wound always hurt just like it is on fire? I can rarely bare. My friend said that it is inevitable to have scars if you want to grow up. I know, but what I do not know is that you are not walking with me. What do I supposed to do with those memories?
I am so tired to keep fighting with my Depression but I know I cannot give up to resist that soon, although all of those terrible, memorable things mingle together and overwhelmed me. This is not the right time; not the end of the story. The nice chapters and tragedies always interweave, bound together. I have to wait, wait until the last chapter led to the happy ending.