离愁
她戴上忧愁的帽子，将自己藏在蓝色的帷幔之后。
深夜。城市的万家灯火早已熄灭，厚重的窗帘阻隔了路上偶尔驶过汽车发出的微光。她辗转反侧，睡意全无。唯独沐浴露留下的淡淡香气让她沉醉，她伸出手想要抓住这一切，却什么也没有摸到。离别的日子越来越近，而她，对这终将到来的时刻，却没有做好准备。当初那颗猛撞懵懂、无所畏惧的心早已消失，如今只剩下茫然的她在原地瑟瑟发抖。渐渐地她疲惫了。在她入睡之时，天边泛起了淡淡的鱼肚白。
生活还是生活，只是平凡之中多了几分苦涩，期待之中多了几分不舍。只是在凝望那些平淡无奇的物品时，她的眼中会闪烁点点泪光。她想把所有东西都带走，就算它们在她生活中已成为过去式。那本小说在她桌面上搁置很久了，尽管以后可能再也不会读，她仍不舍得将它赠与他人。在书架顶层放着的，是些如今无足轻重的奖状。破旧的街道依然不堪，离别的不舍也无法填满路面上零零散散的凹痕。她放下了所有的光环，便再也没有机会从这条路上走过了。在那张坚强的面具背后隐藏着的，是颗因未知而颤抖的心。
没有人比我更爱她，也没有人比我更惧怕她。我害怕看到她的忧愁——她再也不会是原来的她，但我永远是她。
across the ocean
I watched her crossing the ocean.
Midnight, the heavy curtains blocked any trace of city lights, leaving the room completely dark. She tossed and turned, not feeling sleepy at all. She reached for something in the air, but failed to grasp anything. I dipped my toes into the ocean. The cold Pacific waves. My mind said shiver but I could not shiver. I walked further because my mind said turnback. Water devoured me. I drowned because my heart said to stay sober. The day was getting closer, but she never felt ready. It would take the courage of a lifetime to cross the ocean, she thought. She grew weary of the darkness as time slowly passed by. By the time she fell asleep, the first beam of daylight glared through the horizon.
The freezing current penetrated my bones. I saw nothing but the humming of dark blue. I heard nothing but a cocktail party of silent water. I heard a thousand voices talking. The moaning of submarines, the gasping of mermaids, and the low chanting of a blue whale. Life was ordinary as it always had been. But she could not help tearing up when the time had come to say goodbye. She let her favorite clothes sit in the dust. She didn’t need them anymore. What was the meaning of possessing if everything would eventually be lost, she thought. The wave flushed me up to the concrete shore. I squinted at the glaring sunlight-landing hurt more than drowning. There was only one and infinite Pacific. How many were there left for me to cross?
She never saw me crossing the ocean. But I saw her drowning, struggling on the edge of suffocating. By the time she reached the shore with clothes soaked with water and seaweed in her hair, she saw everything- and the cycle started again.
Carol Kang
Carol Kang loves reading and appreciating the literary and art works of others. She is a salty carrot who always wants to be happy.