(Obligatory compilation: Absolute Love)
I went to watch a game alone, and as I stepped out of the grand auditorium, tears streamed down my face. I lowered my head, afraid that passers-by would sneer at me, and hurried away...
The spring chill was still biting in early April, and the weather was still cool with a gentle breeze. My long dress and sandals seemed perfectly in tune with the surrounding environment. The pedestrians habitually shrank their necks, but I had lost all feeling. I left before the results of the competition were announced, even though I also participated, but the result meant nothing to me because there was no one left to share the joy of success with me. If we won, the happiness would be theirs; if we lost, the lessons would be theirs. As for me, I could only hide in the dark corner, lamenting my own sorrows...
There was a time when I was also a graceful elf on the stage. I loved that sacred and pure stage, loved the bright and dazzling performance costumes, loved the thick and exaggerated stage makeup. That scorching spotlight could ignite a fierce fire deep within me, burning my entire body, melting all arrogance, helplessness, and sadness. I used my body language to interpret understanding, emotion, and desire. More importantly, you were there...
Those few short minutes were the most infatuated, selfless, and wild moments of my life. At that time, there was no worry, struggle, or entanglement, as if living in a distant utopia with just you and me. Everything was so simple and beautiful... Back then, I feared hearing applause. Applause is the audience's affirmation and praise for the dancer's hard work, but it also means that I should step off this stage. However, I had fallen in love with this feeling. I was willing to be ravaged, burned, and experience earth-shattering and eternal love... But you always said: I will never let you leave the stage because my stage is forever reserved for you. Such touching words... Those bittersweet photos, they represent my proudest, most beautiful, and happiest moments. I would occasionally flip through them, letting them awaken the long-buried memories in my heart, and then I would pity the inexplicable sadness alone. Leaving, I was unwilling. The season of summer flowers, so brilliant, is always so beautiful yet fleeting. Yearning, mourning, those familiar stages of the past, those golden years, those bygone beauties were all because of you...
Sorrowful, that stage...