I met some people in a course, and my first impression of one of them was that they seemed gentle. My colleagues at my last company were like water — their sadness, despair, and care were all as cool and clear as a glass of water. I had grown used to that kind of vibe. Coming back to school let me see different kinds of people. Our conversations were normal, easy, smooth — but every time I heard a caring word, it just slipped through my brain. After some time, I told my friend that I was jealous of them, because they were able to hope that other people were good. Hoping that others are good feels too far and dreamlike. All I can do is hope they can smile, just for that moment. Because even smiling when happy, and crying when sad, was too hard for me.