Time is like the turpentine in an old studio. It will evaporate slowly, but always leave traces in the air. The story of Lin Wan and Shen Yu is hidden in these traces - the blurred pencil marks in the sketchbook of the teenager, the silent back on the rainy night as an adult, the transition from "sibling" to "lover", and the timidity and bravery hidden in the sentence "Sister, please love me" for more than ten years.
It turns out I kind of liked it, and the ending was already written from the beginning. It will be covered with dust by misunderstanding and scratched by time, but always at an inadvertent moment, with the golden color of sunflowers, the fragrance of ink in an old bookstore, and the temperature of a rainy night, it will quietly sprout until it grows into a shape that can shield the wind and rain.
Those missed years are not a waste, but let each other learn: love is not only watching the splendid fireworks side by side, but also the determination to look back for the other person in the quagmire of misunderstanding; it is the panic of "I am afraid of losing you" into the patience of "I will wait for you"; it is finally understanding that the best companionship is never a vigorous oath, but the two words "love you" are integrated into the day and night of daily necessities.
I hope we can all meet such a person: he remembers the sweets you loved to eat when you were a child, understands the unspoken words in your paintings, will stand stubbornly in place when you turn around, and will still have light in his eyes when you turn around.
May all belated affections wait for the words "I do"; may all the tossing thoughts slowly turn into the sweetest sugar in time.
