须影吟者🕊️

My college roommate came to town on business, and I took the day off to treat him to hot pot. We used to be inseparable, sharing every secret and escapade, from sleeping in bunk beds to skipping class to play video games. Our youth was a song. But now, sitting face-to-face, we're left with awkward silence. Time's chisel not only etches our faces but also cuts our once-intimate souls into separate, self-serving molds. We reminisced about the past, recalling those wild days. But when we tried to rekindle the old spark, we realized we've both changed. I don't understand his small-town, bureaucratic ways, and he can't relate to my big-city stress and sky-high mortgage. We're both running on our own tracks, busy with our own survival. We parted ways hastily at the subway entrance, and in that moment, I understood that sometimes we haven't done anything wrong – life's trajectories have simply diverged. We all have our own lives, our own troubles. Time is unforgiving, taking not only our youth but also our friendships. Yet, despite this, I cherish our friendship, for it's our shared memory, our past joy. The curtain call of adulthood is a silent, uneventful farewell. We all know it's life's inevitability. We all know time's chisel will cut us into our own molds. Still, we must treasure this friendship, for it's our shared memory, our past joy.