Review of the Week#
Spring has arrived, and it can be felt through the pleasant chirping of birds in the morning, the earthy scent in the air, the fresh green leaves sprouting from branches, and the warm spring breeze brushing against our cheeks. The change in climate is so subtle and sudden at the same time. It suddenly dawns on us one day when we notice the emergence of green leaves and flowers around us, signaling the arrival of spring. It is a delicate transformation that happens without us even realizing it.
Then, one morning this week, memories from four years ago flooded my mind amidst the chirping of birds and distant murmurs. It was also a day in March, when I first met her amidst the first spring rain. Even with just a distant and casual glance, I was deeply captivated by her. I can't recall exactly how I felt at that time, but it must have been love at first sight, as if it were destined to be.
And so, I fell into a state of passionate yet calm infatuation. Every time I saw her, my heart would be filled with joy and my actions would become nervous. How much I longed to know her name, how much I wished... But I couldn't gather the courage. I was afraid that it was all just my wishful thinking, and I was too insecure to bear the weight of love. And so, a state of painful longing mixed with hope gradually turned into despair. I was destined to never know her name, destined to only gaze at her from afar. I had one conversation with her, and it was the only time I mustered up the courage. It was an awkward and abrupt conversation, and she must have been confused. After that, I fell into complete despair - trying to forget her, avoiding any chance encounters... Fortunately, the pandemic soon arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief...
I will never know her name, and I will eventually forget her figure and voice. It is my eternal regret. Lately, the song I've been listening to the most is "Golden Slumbers." I keep hearing Paul sing:
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
These two lines of lyrics. Yes, there was once a way to go back there, but I didn't seize it. Instead, I let that period of time slip away from my mind. How much I wish to be braver, to not leave any regrets behind. But it can only be a dream, as four years have passed in the blink of an eye, and I can no longer love like I did back then. The music I listened to, the books I read, I no longer have the patience to appreciate them. I am still as weak as before, truly forgetting her, forgetting the past, and living in numbness. If I don't change, regrets will only accumulate, I know all of this. But I can't change on my own, and the only one I can rely on is myself. Meeting her was destined, and similarly, regrets and forgetting were also destined. When luck and misfortune happen simultaneously to this crying boy, what can he do? But I am not plagued by depression, and I can always overcome each bout of emotional low. Perhaps this hope doesn't really exist, but I have no choice. She is what keeps me going, and I cannot give up. I don't know how you're doing, but in any case, best wishes to you, loved stranger. I offer my blessings, hoping that you are well.
Self-reflection for this week has once again been postponed to the next week. Today marks the 7th report that I have written, yet I haven't felt any substantial improvement in the process. But there's no need to be so utilitarian, right? I know that what I write is just a bunch of self-indulgent ramblings that no one else will read, but I still publish them on a public platform because I am willing to write for the imaginary readers I have created. To some extent, these readers are myself, and I hope that one day they will be able to read these words and say, "You've worked hard, brave boy."
Explorations of the Week#
Movies#
This week, I watched the final installment of the Four Seasons Story, "Winter's Tale."
The ending of "Winter's Tale" was too beautiful, so beautiful that it felt unreal. The lovers, who had lost all means of contact, coincidentally reunited one day, and both still deeply loved each other. It was too perfect. This, to me, is the most beautiful portrayal of true love.
Although Felice tried to date other men, she could never forget Charlie. He was her one and only true love. She held a belief in her heart, similar to a religious conviction, that she would meet Charlie again, believing in the eternal nature of true love... And finally, on a winter day, they were reunited. It was nothing short of a miracle.
I admire both Felice and Charlie.