When I was eighteen, we were running in opposite directions at a traffic light intersection. I thought your pride refused to bow, and you thought my silence meant I was determined to leave.
Reunited at the age of twenty-seven, a dust-laden truth was finally revealed - it turned out that none of us had betrayed, we were just too young, young enough to love in the most hurtful way.
But the cruelest thing about time is that it never waits for anyone. When we finally had the courage to speak clearly, there was another innocent person standing next to us.
This time, the green light came on. Can we still, can we cross the zebra crossing without any scruples?
Or are some people destined to miss it throughout their lives?
Purpose: This story uses the image of "traffic light" to explore young people's pride and miss, time and growth in love. It does not encourage a return to the past, but triggers people's thinking about "cherishing the present" and "boundary of responsibilities" - how should we reconcile with the self that "died without a disease" in our youth? When we meet again at the wrong time, should we make up for our regrets bravely, or accept our current life choices with dignity?