I'm Nianzhao. Nian means longing, and Zhao means clear and evident.
This book is my journal.
Nothing is made up, nothing is embellished, and I haven't put a flattering filter on anyone.
Some people are like light: they leave after lighting up your world.
Some are like the wind: once they've been here, you remember them.
Some are like thorns: once they pierce you, you can never pull them out.
Some are like shadows: always there, but never belonging to anyone.
I write these things down not because I can't forget someone, but because I want to remember that I once loved like this.
That's enough.
This book is for myself.
And for everyone who has loved, is loving, or has yet to love.
May you have loved with all your heart, with no doubt about it.
May you be able to buy yourself flowers and heal yourself.
Theme: The meaning of love lies not in the outcome, but in each moment when we give our hearts sincerely. I record the people who came and went not to reminisce about anyone, but to remember the person I was when I loved wholeheartedly. Between loving and being loved, between being let down and letting others down, she finally grows into a whole person.
