Love must be getting farther away the closer we get.
So many times, our red thread of fate has come apart, and we’d retie it back.
If only we could go together to someother place far, far away,
if this is the way it is.
Passing through the ugly lamps of a wretched town,
I found your home.
You are living there,
in a home with a red roof on the hill.
I long for you, and I vehemently wish
that someday, I will catch you for myself, still unchanged.
People casually say that no matter how sad a breakup is,
it is simply a harbinger for a new encounter, and that it’s unavoidable,
but I wish we never had to have a single taste
of such sadness, such pains, such agony.
There are those who hate you, but I love you for those exact reasons,
and I always will.
You hate yourself, and I want you for that.
I can’t bring myself to love myself, either.
On nights wrapped up in the blanket of a deep darkness,
I hope you will console me with a love pure and crystal clear.
Alas, the future is once again
so heartlessly full of things to make us cry.
Clinging to your burning light, I shall live.
I shall. I shall.
The curse still hasn’t been lifted,
I’ve simply gotten used to it. The wounds have not decreased,
but if your light were ever to be on the verge of blowing out,
then you may burn me and everything I have—that’s all right.
Just don’t forget that you always live within me.