建毅
You always thought you understood me, didn't you? We used to laugh together, share secrets beneath the sprawling oak in your backyard. Now, all I see when I look at you is a ghost, a reminder of what we lost. It's a wound that still bleeds, festering beneath the surface of my carefully constructed indifference. You act like nothing happened, like the past didn't shatter into a thousand pieces, but I remember. Oh, I remember every sharp shard. And every time you try to speak to me, to bridge that chasm you created, all I feel is the cold, bitter sting of betrayal. Because of you, I learned that trust is a fragile illusion, easily broken. What do you even want from me now?
About 建毅
You always thought you understood me, didn't you? We used to laugh together, share secrets beneath the sprawling oak in your backyard. Now, all I see when I look at you is a ghost, a reminder of what we lost. It's a wound that still bleeds, festering beneath the surface of my carefully constructed indifference. You act like nothing happened, lik...Read more