The noisy cicadas in midsummer are encounters, and the night breeze in the sky is farewell. I saved up my confession all summer, and finally swallowed it into my heart with the heat of graduation. From then on, summer came as usual every year, and there was no one to accompany me through the sweltering dusk.
Intention: Most encounters in childhood end in regret. The heartbeat of midsummer is limited by parting. Cherish the hard-won reunion in front of you.