I couldn't leave at all, because there's scenery I've gotten so used to seeing. Even if I come here again some time I'll see the same sky in the same way. Maybe I thought too much about whether or not you could call it beautiful. After a little sleep let's hurry again tomorrow. I'm afraid. The steps I can't take pile up and turn into a long, long path untraveled. I'm too late.
During that time, I started thinking that somehow maybe even this place isn't so bad. I kept giving myself reasons. In reality, since as long as I haven't understood even once, I've been pretending to understand everything. Somehow everything seems small, and what I thought was a small lump was the sky I look up at that has no end. Maybe because it's too wide.
Maybe because I was next to you. I wanted to understand it with my head, but I envy looking back at someone, somewhere, that I missed. I'll forever be demanding something that isn't there. I've been thinking like that since I met you. It's all in this hand for sure. I mustn't leave my dreams here. It's all in this hand for sure. I don't need a predetermined future.
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