Autumn in Shanghai is always accompanied by a bit of mist, and the world outside the window seems to be covered with a veil. The streets of the city are still noisy, and people are passing by. Young people holding cigarettes, young ladies holding bags, and mothers pushing strollers are like a living painting, depicting the vanity and busyness of this metropolis. However, behind these people, there is an unspeakable loneliness, and those indescribable emptiness may only be seen by me.
I often wander in these bustling streets, carrying some melancholy and past that do not belong here, as if the world has become indifferent and vague to me. This city has no space for me, only silence and echoes. I like to walk in such an environment, as if my existence is integrated with the noise of this city, and silently disappears from everyone’s sight.
However, in these countless streets and alleys, I met him. He is not outstanding, and it can even be said that he is ordinary and inconspicuous like every ordinary person in this city. However, at that moment, I felt that he was different from others, as if he had some kind of breath that made my heart beat, gently brushing across my heart.
He was wearing a gray suit. Although the fabric was a little old, it was well-cut, as if he had walked out of the old times of a certain era. That day, he stood in front of a bookstore on the corner of the street. The sun shone obliquely on him, and the light passed through his slightly messy hair, casting a mottled shadow. At that moment, my eyes were involuntarily attracted to him.
I never believe in love at first sight, but at that moment, I really felt that I had fallen into some kind of emotion that I couldn’t extricate myself from. Perhaps it was because of the depth and quietness in his eyes, the silence on the surface, but revealed a kind of calmness and confidence. Or perhaps it was because of the unspeakable loneliness in him, as if he was also like me, bearing his own loneliness alone.
When he saw me, he was not surprised or curious at all, but just smiled gently, with a hint of indifference, as if he had met too many people before, but never expected anyone to come. I smiled back, and an unspeakable throbbing surged in my heart. The distance between us was only the width of the street, but it seemed to be separated by the distance of the whole world.
In the next few days, I began to appear on this street frequently, deliberately passing by the bookstore, waiting to meet him by chance. Every time, I looked at him from a distance, and he seemed to have been accustomed to my gaze, always standing quietly in front of the bookstore, flipping through one book after another.
I know that my behavior is not appropriate. People like me should not have too much interest in anyone. But gradually, I found that I could no longer control myself. Whenever I saw him standing at the door of the bookstore, my heart would unconsciously beat faster. That feeling, like a silent stone, quietly fell into the lake deep in my heart, stirring up waves.
Finally, on a foggy afternoon, I decided to take the initiative to talk to him. I walked into the bookstore, and he was still sitting by the window, quietly flipping through the books, as if he and the stories between the lines were the only ones in the world. I walked over and asked softly, “How is this book?”
He raised his head, his eyes were slightly stunned, then he smiled faintly and replied, “Not bad, quite suitable for killing time.” His voice was low and gentle, without a trace of extra emotion, but it made me feel inexplicably intimate.
We talked about some topics about books and some trivial matters in life. Perhaps because we didn’t have much expectations, the topic flowed naturally, and time seemed to stop at this moment. I gradually discovered that he was not as distant and indifferent as I imagined, but had a kind of unexpected warmth. His eyes were deep, as if he could see through the secrets in everyone’s heart, but he never easily revealed his emotions.
Our relationship began like this, like two parallel lines, occasionally intersecting, but each walking on a different track. I know that he is not a person who is willing to let people enter his heart, and I don’t have the courage to break the wall around him. Our relationship is plain as water, without waves, but there is no real depth.
However, as the days go by, I gradually realize that our relationship has become a little complicated. Although there is no intense emotional conflict and not too much sweet time, I began to get used to his existence and even rely on this plain company. But I know that such a relationship can’t last long after all.
He never spoke and asked me any questions about the future. And I don’t have the courage to break this silence. We are just like two lonely souls, occasionally colliding, but never getting closer. Just like that street, our distance is always pulled apart by an invisible thing and cannot be shortened.
One day, he suddenly disappeared. There was no sign, no farewell, but when I walked through that street as usual, there was no longer his figure in front of the bookstore. I stood there, staring blankly at the empty corner, with an unspeakable loss in my heart.
I know that I will never see him again. Our story is like a book, which has not ended even after turning to the last page. Those ordinary days have disappeared in the hourglass of time and become blurred. Although he was once a part of my life, now he has become a faint light in my memory, gradually going away in the endless night sky.
This city is still as prosperous as before, and I continue to walk on this strange street. However, the once warm feelings in my heart have long been diluted by the years, turning into a breeze, gently blowing and taking away all traces.