“可是，浪子已回不了头了”

很多时候，蒙蔽我们双眼的，不是假象，而是自己的执念。

Many times, what blinds us is not the illusion, but our own delusion.

彻底放弃你的那晚，不止我的手在抖，连同我的心也一并碎掉了。

The night I gave up on you, more than my hands were shaking, my heart shattered too.

后来我学会把天聊死，看穿了所有的套路，以前你给的，现在我不要了。

Later on, I learned to talk about the sky and die, saw through all the routines, what you used to give, now I don't want it

想多了都是问题，想开了全是答案，释怀太难了，就只能等，烂在回忆里。

Overthinking leads to problems; understanding leads to solutions. It's so hard to let go; we can only wait, trapped in memories.

或许短暂，或许热烈，或许本该就这样，等明年车窗起雾我写的名字就不是你了。

Maybe brief, maybe passionate, maybe it should be like this, by next year when the car window fogs up, the name I write won't be you.

我们都是戏子，在别人的故事里，流着自己的眼泪，关于你也不在向旁人提起。

We are all actors, shedding our own tears in someone else's story. As for you, I no longer mention it to others.

于是我妥协了，不在想着跟你联系，也不在幻想着你我还有以后。

So I compromised, no longer thinking about contacting you, no longer fantasizing about our future.

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