#Unreachable to You

The promenade was cracked.
Likely the marks of scorching heat and wind-driven snow.
From the gaps running through the stone steps, the breath of new buds was peeking out.
I have been walking along the winter-withered promenade, and I am starting to sweat. When I stop walking, I feel a sense of malice in the north wind blowing down.
It is a spot famous for its night view, a place where lovers come to make wishes.
Perhaps it is even livelier at night. The stylish burger shop that had expanded from the city center has long since closed, and the notice posted on it has faded.
From the observation deck, you can look down at the port town below.
A deep inlet divides my hometown's port, and it is impossible to tell where the sea ends and the river begins. From far away, a mournful whistle drifts all the way here.

Red rust had surfaced on the railing of that observation deck.
Below the railing, three cables were strung, and countless padlocks hung from each of them. The weight caused them to sag into an arc.
That night, I stood here.
And while kissing, we hung a padlock we had chosen together. I attached it to the cable by feel, over her shoulder.
It was a hot summer night, as if the stars were falling.
We were not the only ones spending time like that. Due to herd mentality, the threshold for reason was set quite low.
"We made a promise here, didn't we?"
After the kiss, she said, touching my lips.
"What should we do about the key?" I asked honestly.
"I will never take it off. You keep it. It is up to you to unlock it."
Was that statement the truth, or just the heat of the moment?
It was she who walked away.

This time, not by feel, but by sitting down repeatedly, I searched for that specific lock among the massive quantity of padlocks.
"Let's pick a distinctive padlock so we can go check on it on an anniversary someday," she had said, so it should have been a unique lock that we had carefully selected.
Whether it was dirty or rusty, I would not fail to recognize it.
But it was buried in a row of hundreds, thousands of hardened emotions. Each one continued to hold fast to the affection entrusted to it.
And I felt embarrassed by the absurdity of standing there, holding a key that had nowhere to go. I hadn't expected an anniversary. She wasn't the type of person to be locked away by such a padlock.
Well, that's fine.
I have just reached the turning point of my feelings.
I put the key in my pocket.
To lock away the memories I had kept sealed.