It was scaring her that she was forgetting his face. When she dreamed about him he was always somebody else; a person she made up in her mind with a different face and a different voice.
Now and again she rang his mobile phone just to hear his voice on his answering machine. She had even been paying the mobile company every month just to keep his account open. His smell had faded from the house; his clothes long gone under his own orders. He was fading from her mind and so she clung desperately on to every little bit of him that she could. She deliberately thought about him every night just before she went to sleep just so that she would dream about him. She even bought his favorite aftershave and splashed it around the house. Sometimes she would be out and a familiar smell or song would transport her back to another time and another place. A happier time.
She would catch a glimpse of him walking down the street or driving by in a car and would chase that person for miles, only to discover it wasn't him; merely a lookalike. She just couldn't seem to let go.
- page 436 & 437
“ 最后的疼爱是手放开 ”
－手放开，李圣杰
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