It hurts listening to love songs this time . . .
Lately I have not been feeling well,
I do not eat that much,
I do not have the will and the appetite,
my favorite hot rice,
dumpling
and the seasoning soup—
all tasted cold and blank.
Even if I am in the middle of severe torment,
I don’t mourn knowing you.
Just sometimes I wish I was not hurting,
you are so heartless—
how can you hurt me like this?
Sometimes I wish I do not feel things.
I am always the one who is throbbing in pain,
can I be the one who stab someone this time?
. . . I know I can’t.
Never fair,
the one who caused the pain is the one who doesn’t cry,
the one who was hurt is the one who cries.
The one who agonized the pain is the one who doesn’t suffer,
the one who was hurt is the one who suffers.
I do not want to cry over him anymore.
If only I did not take everything to heart
but it really cuts deeply,
crushed my poor belittling heart.
He is the most painful person I have ever known—
the only one who made me feel this way.
Of all people,
why—
why must it be him?
Who is gonna ruin me.
It could have been someone,
anyone but him.
For all I know,
I used to have deep faith in him . . .
trusted him with all my heart.
He used to feel soft and warm,
he was once a safe haven . . .
an extraordinary gem,
a rare key in a treasure-hunting box.
But he has changed,
not the same
and I am giving up on him,
I have tried more than enough.
—or perhaps this is who he really is,
I just did not know it all along.
It is harsh,
unbearable,
I am all torn up—
I thought he was different,
from the rest of the patriarchy.
Perhaps this is his real color,
not brilliant golden,
just plain black coal.
He does not seem like the same person I was with last year . . .
I have lost the man I once loved . . .
how do you grieve the loss of the man you used to love?
I did not know who he was anymore.
Please come back,
my love,
tell me you are still here—
tell me you are still him.
