Saturday, June 27, 2020

不具名的悲伤

Dear ____,

This is a letter that I want to send to you. 
I'm not sending it to you because I do not want to engage with you more, or make you feel anything otherwise. Your words when we last spoke on the park bench rings in my head like a bell, constantly ringing... ringing... ringing.

There was something I wanted to recommend you called "Modern Love" on Amazon Prime. I just find it written so... well, so real. I just don't know if you are into things like a romantic drama or not. Maybe you do and just put on a strong face for it. You're a mystery in that sense, always with the thriller and horror recommendations. The closest to a romantic comedy would be The Farewell. I'm glad to hear the Q&A with the director.

I'm writing this letter because I think about you more than I want to. With the world being a crazy place now... I find myself wondering how you are doing, caring about you. Yet, the chats don't really amount to anything. In that case, why start the conversation at all.

Truth be told, everything is a selfish decision. I'm phasing you out of my life, so I don't think about you. This is a one sided decision. If you ever wonder why going forward, I'm sorry.

I look at this as a failure, I'm a fighter for sure. Yet in something like this, I find myself unable to convince even myself why and how to fight. I can't convince myself that this is going to work. Those bells are ringing again. It was a sure 100% done deal... and then there's me.

Still, never expected us to connect in a the way that we did, the one thing I did think about was that I wasn't putting up a front, like there was no filter for me. That... was strange for me.

I remember when you found a new job, I was really happy. Even after I found out you essentially had an internal recommendation. Congratulations were in order. It wasn't until the final elevator lobby that I had the strongest sense of dread. Nevertheless, I held back, either through cowardice or restraint.

I am suddenly... at a loss for words.