The meeting when we were young coincided with the midsummer wind. We once shared the morning light of a classroom, walked through the same long street shaded by sycamore trees, hid our ignorance between our eyebrows, and ended up being young and timid. Later, the mountains and rivers came together, and each of them rushed to the sea of people, grew up in different cities, and were pushed forward by time. Year after year, we didn't often contact each other, never saw each other, but always in the evening breeze, falling snow, and the sound of old songs, I would think of the youthful features of that year for no reason. Some feelings are never expressed in words; some people stay at the ferry of youth. The years go by, the mountains and rivers remain the same, and those unspoken loves and goodbyes that I didn't have time to say goodbye to have become long and tender thoughts for the rest of my life.
Intention: Meeting when you are young is a gift, missing you is also a growth, treasure your youth in your heart, and run towards the rest of your life with tenderness.