"What can happen in three seconds?"
Three seconds was the time I was stunned when he ate my biscuit.
Three seconds was the hesitation that no one looked back when saying goodbye at the station.
Three seconds is the last struggle before withdrawing a message.
Three seconds is the interval between every hesitation in the three hours at the school gate.
Three seconds later, he was the first person he thought of after waking up from the nightmare.
Three seconds is the moment of stillness when I see the city on the admission notice.
Three seconds was the length of time they looked at each other across the stadium stands.
Three seconds is very short, not enough to say "I miss you".
Three seconds is a long time, long enough to hold eight years of waiting.
This is a story about two boys.
One is like the sun, covering up all uneasiness with a smile.
One is like the moon, guarding all secrets with silence.
We first met when we were ten, separated when we were fourteen, and reunited when we were eighteen.
Three years of blankness, three years of waiting, three years of silence.
All misses are hidden in those three seconds.
All reunions are only for those three seconds.
Intention: Dedicated to every moment when a message is withdrawn, to every person who dares to look back after waiting for three seconds, to those bonds in life that are "not lovers, but more important than lovers". Time will make people separate and reunite; silence will make people miss and make reunion more weighty.