在那发出友善笑声的决绝背影中，尴尬地吞下了酝酿了数个小时的言语，手足无措，匆匆道别。
意料之中的回应，意料之中的郁躁与消沉。下意识地向他倾诉，依旧安静如婴儿。没来由的悲伤和愤怒，就像一颗涨满了黑红汁液的浆果，随时等待着在秋风中的炸裂。Cherry bomb, by The Runaways.
Huh. 我需要一个愚蠢而烂俗的比喻：
Me before him, I was a bomb, filled with fury and frustration, exploding uncontrollably in my own spiritual inner space, without hurting anyone but myself. But now, it has been turned into a missile, and he, my only target, has no choice but to face the miserable destiny.
Maybe, he is the last person I should blame for.
好像是想通了些吧。那些无耻膨胀的能量们，既然不能被理性的condom包裹，变得温顺而无害，那就在体内彻底燃烧，转化成热量来取暖吧，我快被冻死了。
一个比喻
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