A.T Field

Part 1

Sometimes, that's how it is; you touch a deep-seated wound without even realizing it. A person's life may be short in the grand scheme of the universe, but every single moment is eternal in memory.

There are always some obstacles to communication between people. Some people are good at being tolerant and have many friends around them, while others have a strong personalities and can only be alone.
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When someone can truly open the walls of your heart, the initial resistance disappears. You enjoy the peeling away of layers without resistance, but is that truly joyful? Some can hear the deepest whispers of the heart, but cannot decipher them.

Then… there is no then.

Part Two

My father told me when he got home from get off work tonight that my grandmother had a fever, which suddenly made me think of many things. In our constant forward movement, have we lost something along the way?

My grandfather passed away in 2003, and my grandmother, who grew up with me, suffered from memory loss and couldn't remember much. When I visited her during the Lunar New Year, she sat in the park with a dazed look in her eyes. I don't know what her brain cells could possibly be thinking at that moment, but bathed in the setting sun, she appeared so sorrowful. As the car slowly drove away, she remained fixed on her gaze, completely unaware of our departure.

I remember the last time I had my driving theory lesson was by the little river behind my grandma's house. I walked back for a stroll during my lunch break. Zhejiang University's Yubi Campus, the place where I grew up, felt smaller when I returned. The roads were narrower, the trees weren't as tall as I remembered, and the buildings and stairs seemed miniature. In the heart of a city, everything felt compressed. This tiny neighborhood, I knew every inch of it so well; there wasn't a single place where I couldn't see a trace of my childhood.

My grandfather used to live in the first building of the community. From the kitchen, you could see the tall power tower of Hangzhou TV. There was a small shop downstairs, and the shop owner's son and I were childhood playmates. What are you doing now? Since my grandfather passed away, I have hardly been to this place. It's as if these things have nothing to do with me anymore, and everything has become unfamiliar.

I wandered around this small community for a very long time, walking slowly, reminiscing slowly, enjoying slowly, and feeling slowly pained. I learned to ride a bike here, met my family here, and slowly grew up. My most innocent and carefree days were spent here. Fragments of memories are scattered everywhere, and unexpectedly, they pierce my heart. Memories are always beautiful, but why must I shed tears?

Grandpa's house is now rented out, the doors are tightly shut, and the mosquito net window that I used to peek out from as a child has been replaced by a security door. I wanted to go inside and reminisce, but I couldn't find a suitable reason. I went around to the backyard, and there I saw that the big tree was still standing tall, but the window next to it had changed owners, and the chairs on the balcony were gone. The feelings that those who lived there didn't know, only those who experienced it could understand.

People are the same; who cares about your story anyway? Keep it in your heart, and only mention it occasionally!

It lingers, so why do you keep touching it?