On a night when the clouds are slowly moving by, I trace the streetlight that I can see through my window with my finger, and I keep thinking about where I made a mistake. The moon is beautiful today. I can't make a phone call for that reason. Isn't that the problem with the reason? I'm sure we both always wish the same thing. Why am I like this? My heart hurts. I forget the important things, but I remember the trivial things. You say things like that, but isn't that the same thing? And yet, before I know it, I'm laughing here. In this way, the two of us slowly become one. For example, even if you were on the other side of the round world today, even if you were next to me, it's still the same that you can't see my heart. If this rift doesn't go away, that's fine. Even if we don't understand each other, as long as we can forgive each other. I'm thinking it's okay. I'm sure we'll always have the same wish, so let's never let go of that soft hand, no matter the pain or sadness.