Chapter 28 Wound

This is for you, because I couldn't find you, and I got my own letter in the letter box.I thought that these words need not be said, or there will be time in the future, that you know these words, this is our life.But I couldn't find you, I only heard that you cried, saying that I didn't know you and ignored you.You think I don't see you, so you don't.Now I write these things because I only see you, and see you in all things. They are all unreal shadows, or things ready to be used. I can't quite believe that you're still in the same place, that you're alive, that you can still read every word I've written, that we're forever separated by death and the sea.

I don't quite believe that the sun that once shined on me will shine on you and your hair again.and the streets where you live. I don't quite believe that you can speak Chinese, the language that makes us live together; I don't believe that your heart can still see me.But I wrote anyway, day and night in disbelief. I speak to you in the night and put the words in the mailbox by day. I speak on every page, it's like seeing you from the mountains.I only hear the echo of stone.I let my voice come to you, and it turned to rain in a storm of blues and oranges. I don't know where they will fall, in the deserted woods, or on the road with dead branches and rot, or in the surprised gaze of strangers.

No one knows that this is addressed to you, and no one knows you.They sometimes recall another person, or a voice in life, Illustrated. Nor do your parents know you, your brother or your girlfriend. Everyone was surprised when I said I knew you, they all thought I was mistaken.No one knows what I say, because I am only writing to you. I write these words because I am still alive.Everything we have experienced, unwilling to die, it must live between two people.It doesn't just live on a piece of land like a tree.It is like a rainbow, changing colors from here to there.We saw the rainbow together. On that rainy and foggy afternoon, we were both surprised and felt that the rainbow belonged to us and we loved it. I write these words just to give it to you, because it doesn’t want to be with me disappear.

You are gone, you are alive.I don't know if it's you, I hope it must be, because my you doesn't do these things, because it knows my soul, because it has traveled so far to find the flowery grave.We will be buried together in the soil of life, we will be silent, we will sing like songs, we will live in this happy death.We don't need resurrection, we don't need that nightmare of shattering, we've had enough, we should rest now. But you don't have it anymore, just like you are used to holding the cup with your hands, and the hands are gone, just like after the operation, your heart was taken away.My blood was still flowing, but it couldn't return to me. My words became words, and I was just a wound.I am no longer a whole person.How long you live, the length of the knife.After I was dissected, I couldn't look clean anymore, and all I could say was: let my blood bleed.

These words are written for you and the last thing you want to read because only you know.it is true.It was written by us together, every stroke, I didn't write a word by myself.You don't want to read, not because you don't want to see me, but because you don't want to see yourself.Its beauty scares you, its simplicity makes you dirty, and its truth makes you ugly.You are so afraid to see yourself the way you used to be, it's in the mirror, under the ice and snow of my heart.If you see it, you can't live, you can't dress yourself up, and you can't live in lies.You wrapped the lie in a little candy wrapper, like a little girl, you are not so small anymore.Lies wrinkle your mouth.

I hope one day you can tell me that this is fake.You can stand down the hall, behind all the wooden railings of the law, and say it's a sham.I want you to say this and kill yourself with it, the girl with the pigtails and all the days we've been living.Your tears, poems and love, you wait like crazy in Beijing, I want to watch you do this.Kill it, its last cry scares you. I write these to wait for you, to wait for you to become another person.Lei told you to come back, but you couldn't understand because you blocked your ears, and I said you couldn't understand either, because you didn't care.You think the world is big.You think that time is long enough to bury all these things and turn us into dry bones; you think that if you forget the Chinese language, you will forget us; you think the river water can dilute a drop of tears, you think My soul is dead in the stone, it will not appear at your feet every spring.

I write these because I don't need to find you, because I will definitely find you, because God is on my side, when I give her my heart, she will promise me everything. I will write everything, day and night, this is the inevitable thing that you live and I live. It was you who made me write everything and set me free from my rocky sleep.You gave me words, you gave me a road to the blue sky, you made me say everything before I disappeared.You will know, because I have said everything, and you will not know, because of time, the last sentence is what I whispered in your ear.