The Evening Breeze Bids Farewell to the Year

I once had a preference that everyone envied. He wrote notes for me for three years, shielding me from all wind and rain. But I thought he was poor, I thought he was ordinary, and I thought his love made me unable to hold my head high in a glamorous circle. On the day of graduation, when he was holding a ring and preparing to confess his love, I humiliated him in public: "Don't humiliate yourself." He disappeared for three years, and I didn't care. I was angry and waited for him to bow his head. When we met again, he was already a new man in the business world, aloof and dignified. I put down all my pride and tried to make up for it, but he just replied politely: "Sorry, I'm not familiar with it." I later learned that he was severely depressed during those three years and was on the verge of death. I cried and begged him to give me a chance, but he just looked at me calmly: "I took it seriously back then, so I died once. I finally came back to life, and I don't want to die a second time." I finally understood that I had made some mistakes and it would take me a lifetime to repay them.