There are times I can't even fathom myself, clear as everything may be, yet I fail to act as intended.
Because you were unhappy before, I ache for you, hence I desire to grant you a speck of happiness in my presence.
People inevitably evolve, and now I don't look forward to anyone treating me as they once did.
Any semblance of empathy or understanding is merely a pretext to comfort you.
Loving someone who doesn't return your feelings isn't tragic; the true heartbreak is recognizing the anguish yet being unable to cut ties promptly.
You kept saying sorry to me—it turns out you realized all along that you wronged me.
You’re like my childhood toy—I perceive any other's touch as a snatch.
That difficult muddy road, I thought accompanying wouldn't lead to betrayal.
