杂

Love Apartment 4 has ended. Rumors had been circulating online that this was the final season. Although the last two episodes seemed strange and didn't provide a definitive ending, I still felt reluctant to say goodbye to the show after watching the final episode.

For five years, from 2009 to now, although it hasn't been broadcast continuously, its intermittent releases have given people a sense of hope, a hope that keeps them from feeling alone on their journey of struggle. The sudden decrease feels very disorienting. These past few years have seen many changes; I've moved from China to abroad, and transitioned from a student to a worker. For me, life has just begun. Leaving the nurturing environment of society, absorbing knowledge from school, and becoming someone who puts my previous experience into practice—this is the beginning of my life. What kind of achievements can my past accumulation lead me to?

I haven't summarized 2013 yet, not because I didn't want to, but because I simply didn't have the time or energy, nor the peace of mind to reflect. I kept wondering if my life would just be this mundane, lacking those exhilarating moments of the past. In November, Slam Dunk celebrated its 20th anniversary, and the re-released HD version aired, so I watched every episode. Looking back, this series changed me a lot. Mitsui's never-give-up spirit, his unwavering persistence until the very last second, and Ananda's words, "If you give up, it's all over," have always been my pillars of strength. It was also from then on that I fell in love with competitive sports, enjoying the competitive nature of such activities and my strong competitive spirit. In junior and senior high school, I was sheltered, but fortunate enough to participate in the school team and experience the warmth of teamwork and the passion of competition; those scenes are still deeply etched in my mind. I'm so lucky to have had those experiences and achieved those victories. In university, although I didn't have those happy days on the school team, and even left soccer for a period, I returned before graduation. During the top ten selection, we vowed to win the championship. Through countless grueling matches, from missing a penalty to securing a last-minute victory, it was all unbelievable. That night truly felt like graduation, because I felt that this team, this field, no longer belonged to me. I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to join such a passionate and united group again, to fight for a championship together.

Now that I've finished my master's degree, I've been living a life of constant sleep deprivation and aimlessness. I feel like my sharpness and passion have slowly faded. Many times, I feel powerless. Lately, I've had this thought: if I were born in Japan, I could participate in various levels of soccer leagues from elementary school to university, with friends and parents watching me play. If I had the chance to pursue a professional soccer career, how wonderful that would be! Maybe it would be tough, maybe I wouldn't earn much money, but it would be something I love. At 14, I imagined myself as a genius, capable of conquering everyone around me, and I worked hard to improve myself. At 17, I suffered a crushing defeat in the final against a professional team of the same age, and from then on, I knew there was no hope. 19…21…until now, at 24, time relentlessly marches forward. I've slowly become mediocre, no longer the young, ambitious boy I once was.

My dream of playing football may be fading, but life goes on. Every transition is terrifying, because every new field brings fear. Before, I strode confidently into the darkness and the unknown, full of hope and dreams. Now, I'm afraid.