During my school days, I often envied many people around me: their elegant conversation and neat, well-coordinated outfits; their warmth and wit, and their delicate care for others. At times, I felt utterly worthless. Later, after changing my environment, I began to imitate their speech and recall their styling choices. I tried to become more interesting and to respect everyone with my best efforts. I wanted to become the kind of person I once admired. In reality, anyone who can perceive the beauty in others is far from being worthless.
Every time I return home, I go through the letters you once wrote to me. Reading them closely, I can almost feel the posture of your hand holding the pen and the furrow of your brow. Every sentence and every character carries the most complete version of you at that time. I don't know where you are today, so I will just consider you a pen pal. My mother asked, "Why do you keep these letters if they are no longer useful?" In fact, many things seem useless now, but the only reason for keeping them is that a person as wonderful as you once treated me with such sincerity.
The kind of person you are determines the kind of people you meet; the kind of friends you have determines the kind of person you become; the kind of partner you have determines the kind of life you lead. Protecting those around you is, in essence, fulfilling yourself.
You will gradually realize that failure is not a big deal, because it is better than your active surrender; lying is not shameful, because it is better than your foolish concealment; being dumped is not embarrassing, because it is better than you breaking up first and thinking you had the upper hand. When we learn to understand ourselves, we realize how flawed we are; When we learn to understand others, we realize how tolerant they are.
"Life is perhaps about constantly letting go, yet it is regrettable that I never properly said goodbye to them." Everyone remembers this line; everyone has farewells that were too late or not fully expressed. Much of what we cannot let go of stems from reluctance, and it is this reluctance that keeps memories alive.
The older I get, the more I enjoy a little drink, because some things in my heart become harder to voice. The longer I work overtime, the more I enjoy walking alone, because I want to know how much longer I can endure it. We started the journey together in a group, but later, we all need time for solitude. We once hoped anyone would text us, yet when we picked up our phones, we didn't know who to call. But only after going through this phase do we have stories to laugh about in retrospect.
