When my fingers leaped over the keys, my pathetic voice echoed in my head, "I love him, because he is the man who I can love."

After two years, I came back. It was impossible to deny that I didn't want to see him.

But I didn't tend to reverse anything, nor say "I love you!" to him. If it was possible, I only wanted to glance at him and see the color of his shirt. If it was creamy white, I would smile at him calmly.

Then I could erase the regretful memories and begin a new ...