You make me sad, my friends.
I love singing with you, and laughing with you, and exchanging the brightest memories with you, and sharing these sharpest moments with you. But you make me sad, oh, how sad you make me, my friends…
We sing, and we laugh, and we exchange the brightest memories and we share the sharpest moments. And then we go home, and you bury me under an avalanche. Not of your song, not of your laughter, not of your memories, not of your moments – but of your sadness. Your longing to relive the memories, to return the moments, I feel it too, but it is salve in my heart, not venom.
We go back to the world, where there is silence instead of song, and frowns instead of laughter, and the memories are faded, and the moments are dulled. It is enough to make anyone cry. Anyone but us, my friends. Anyone but those who knows that we mustn’t cry. We must sing.
I love you, my friends. I will share these sharpest moments with you. I will exchange the brightest memories with you. I will laugh with you. I will sing with you. But I will not cry with you. I will sing. If you sing, I will sing with you. If you cry, I will sing without you.
You make me sad, my friends. But I will not cry. I will sing. I will sing without you and hope that one day, you will sing with me.