And I said to myself, “I won’t write about him.” Because all the people that I’ve written about before, I lost them all. Some I lost gradually. Some I lost in an instant. And I can’t stand to lose him. So I kept myself from writing a piece of poetry or a line of my musing of him. I tried hard not to grab a pen and make him immortal in papers. But still, the day came when I lost him. Now, I can’t blame anything or anyone for I didn’t write. I thought that we escaped the curse of my writing, but it turns out that I’m destined to lose people anyway.