The story of Mr. G and I started from the meeting at the front and back desks. We also hid our thoughts about being in a different place after self-study get out of class at night. The time we shared together, the red eyes after the quarrel, and the regret of not being able to reach the end have all become the most profound marks of my youth. It turns out that some love teaches us to grow and say goodbye. Maybe hazy liking is not love
Purpose: Record the past of youth