I want so badly to be mad at you.
But I can't.
I can't bring myself to be angry at you.
Not even a bit.
And the worse thing is, I don't even know why I want to be mad at you.
Heart's like a whirlwind,
And I want to just hurt.
Hurt you, hurt myself, hurt someone else.
I don't know.


I'm confused.
What am I to you now?


我在你眼里， 重要吗？
还是什么地位也没有？
I must still mean something to you, right?
When your texts reveal your concern for me?
When you ask me not to worry about you when you're thousands of miles away from me?


And it's impossible to expect me not to worry about you.
I will always worry.
我心，还是会担心，会牵挂着你。


很讨厌现在的自己。
以前那独立自主，无拘无束的吴云诗到底去了哪里？


也许，一开始就已经没有回头的余地。