Cold Winter Narrative

/ At the age of sixteen, fate made a special mark for her appearance in my life, which was a heavy rain. When I was twenty-two years old, the last thing I never imagined was an ordinary day in late summer when it was still hot. At the age of twenty-eight, I finally understood that the so-called life is just a trick of fate. We spend our whole lives struggling in it just to find a reason to leave. / How should I describe you? A magnolia that never withers, an endless summer in full bloom, an untimely snow, or as you wish, a poem without an ending. It took me six years not to see you clearly, but I finally knew that your departure was a predetermined outcome that no one could stop, and it happened in the third year after your death. How should I forget you? No matter where I escape, no matter how deliberately I avoid you, I am still left in the winter night when I am twenty-three years old. I don't have the strength to talk anymore about the many things that happened because of circumstances, I don't have the strength to hate anymore, I don't have the strength to cry anymore, and I don't have the strength to be in pain again. I just want peace, and the cost is the collapse of the world. / Jing Yi & Shen Xianwei first person be literature I'm really not good at writing copywriting Intention: A mistake made by fate