The thought of seeing you makes me shrivel with fear! Yet I know I must see you!
I live in hope of seeing you. I live in dread that seeing you will only deepen my sorrow.
I long to find you. Yet the fear haunts me—I'll lose you again once found.
I search and keep searching for you; but whether I truly want to find you—I have no answer.
I want to hear your voice. Your voice brings me joy. Your voice keeps me whole. Yet I can't quite summon the courage to listen.
Let me put it simply. I'm sick of myself. This sickness keeps me alive and kills me at once. How much I'm living, and how much I'm dying— the distance between these two is sometimes zero...sometimes infinite.