By just living one's life, sadness accumulates here and there.
Be it in the sheets hung out in the sun to dry, the toothbrush in the bathroom, or the history logs on a mobile phone.
"I like you, even now," so wrote the lady I had dated three years ago, in her email.
"But even if we were to exchange a thousand emails... our hearts would not even move one centimeter closer together."
In the last several years, I have forged ahead without any regard, just to touch what I cannot reach.
That email was a definite indicator of that fact.
Without understanding the sources from which these menacing thoughts surged from, I continued working, when at last I finally noticed my heart had already become hard from its loss of youthful vitality.
One morning, when I finally came to an earnest realization... that I had lost everything that was beautiful, I knew I was at my limits -and quit the company.
-5 Centimeters Per Second
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