Occasionally, I will think of that night, with drizzle and misty moonlight. I walked in the cool night breeze, and I was so happy that I couldn't bear to say cold because your messages kept coming to my phone.
The night is too short, the street lights are too bright, and the short-lived happiness that is like an illusion is eventually washed away by time into an old yellowed photo, which is placed in the most inconspicuous corner, from being unforgettable to being covered with dust and frost.
It turns out that it was just an experience. Even if the love was deep at the time, it would inevitably fall into pieces and become a tragedy.
Like, it's just like, not so unforgettable that "if you don't think about it, you will never forget it".
The laughter and tears at that time were just the burial of the wrong encounter.
A cup of dust of time is enough to reduce everything to a faint scratch in the memory, and no more ripples can be made.
But, I still want to thank you for passing by my world and giving me an empty joy.
