2022, I was broke and had nothing but emotions.

Every green candle made my heart race, every red one made me fantasize about a comeback.
Back then, I had a crush on a girl.
One winter she was knitting a scarf, and I asked who it was for.
She said, "For the person I like most."
I thought I was delusional, like a small retail investor spotting a price movement but too scared to chase it.
Later, she gave me something.
I thought it was a signal, secretly treating it as bullish news.
Then she vanished from the world.
Like a liquidated fool, I searched the whole city for her.
I only heard she moved to another city, got married, and is doing well.
Like how the whales pump a position and then move on to the next scheme.
I also found a new target.
New narrative, new story, I pretended I'd already broken even.
Until one day, I dug out those dusty old things from years ago.
In a black plastic bag, I saw a bright red scarf.
I broke down right there.
It turned out she really did like me back then.
But liking is one thing—in the end, it belonged to someone else's account.
So I'm planning to liquidate this memory today.
Not because it's worthless.
It's because it almost belonged to me, and that's what cuts the deepest.
Anyone want to take this position?
Anyway, the market taught me the harshest lesson:
It's not that it never pumped.
It pumped, just not into my pocket.