When I was twelve, I fell for a girl.
Her name was Carlee.
She looked so thin, but she had a big heart.
Whenever someone bullied me, she would always step in front of me and tell me not to be afraid.
I knew she was also afraid.
She was the light that suddenly appeared in my life.
At a young age, I didn't know what liking someone meant, but I liked being with her, liked watching her smile, liked seeing her serious when she was drawing.
Later, my parents took me abroad, and I only briefly became friends with her.
Five years later, I returned to the country.
Finally, I saw her again. She was even more beautiful and wonderful than I remembered.
At first, I didn't dare approach her because it seemed like she didn't remember me.
Or maybe I had changed from the past.
Even when we passed each other, she didn't recognize me.
Until one day on the subway, when we both caught a thief by coincidence, I finally spoke to her for the first time in five years.
"Nice move, classmate."
And, "Hello, Carlee."
I saw the confusion in her eyes, probably wondering, "How does this guy know me?"
My heart screamed, she's so cute!
That day, after school, I mustered the courage to ask if she remembered the chubby boy from five years ago.
I couldn't wait to find her, feeling anxious.
Until I found her in a narrow alley.
I couldn't control my emotions and scolded the people who had hurt her.
I told her, "Don't be afraid, I'm here, no one will bully you again."
Looking into her eyes, I knew she still remembered me.
"Five years later, Carlee, I'm the chubby boy, Cornelius."
At that moment, I understood what liking someone meant.
I liked Carlee, and I wanted to stay with her forever.
After graduation, I finally married her, and I finally had the light that belonged to me.
My parents always laughed at me, saying I was afraid my wife would run away.
I wasn't afraid of her leaving, I just wanted to go through life with her.
But in the end, fate envied our happiness and played a cruel joke on us.
The accident happened so suddenly.
After the crash, I rushed to the hospital.
I had never been this afraid before.
I prayed to the heavens not to treat us this way.
But they still took my parents' lives.
I don't know how I accepted this reality.
The only thing keeping me going was the fact that Carlee was still alive.
But when Carlee finally woke up, I couldn't face her like I used to.
A voice inside me tortured me, driving me mad.
"If it weren't for you insisting on going abroad, my parents wouldn't have died."
"Why didn't you just die with them?"
I really lost it. I couldn't control myself.
No matter how much I loved her, I couldn't ignore that voice.
After my parents were buried, day by day, I was numb.
I knew I could never go back to the way things were with Carlee.
I loved her, but I also hated her.
What I hated more was myself.
How could it be Carlee? It should have been me!
If I had been the one to send Carlee abroad that day, maybe none of this would have happened!
This hatred tormented me constantly. To release the pressure, I even used Greta.
Every time Carlee hurt, I hurt double.
It seemed like this pain could relieve our guilt.
I kept hurting her, and then I kept suffering in agony every night.
Carlee blamed everything on herself.
But that wasn't what I wanted.
Later, I thought, the best ending would be for me to leave her.
As long as she never saw me again, maybe I could slowly let go.
