In Front of the Window for a Long Time, a Little Love on the Fingertips

First love is as innocent as dewdrops, as passionate as lightning, and as cloudy as the summer sky. ‌‌It is like a green fruit, standing alone and proudly on the branches in early spring, unstained by dust, and retaining the fragrance of sunshine. ‌‌Memories are like dusty old photos, as clear as yesterday, and they are an eternal concern in my heart. ‌‌