I would like to listen to you talk of some insignificance, pretending that we've got all the time in the world... to stay the same.
It's a simple wish, but the most distant possibility.
Each time I look at you, the fear of watching time slipping through my fingers surges up my throat and has me choked.
Could time just, stop, like, that?
Could you just, stay?
For I need so much more time to collect the courage to... cherish you.
Having the attachment already so subtle, how do I plunge into time with our fragile connection intact?
I don't know.
The only thing I do and am capable of doing now, is hold on tight to sporatic exchanges of words in an overwhelming day.
I've been waiting for the day to come. Yet now that it's approaching, I would rather see it stand still.
I'm afraid of making decisions. I'm afriad of making regretable, irreparable decisions.
I am a piece of glass, bending, on the verge of shattering.
我躡足在
一條牽掛上
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