In the first grade of high school, the only two people I knew, one became my best friend, and the other became the eternal white moonlight in my heart.
We said we would go to the same university together, and she cried and told me to never abandon her.
Later, I discovered that I was never the only one beside her. I didn't ask or tell. Some get separated and need a reason.
And in the other direction
I have secretly liked my deskmate for three years.
There is a mole in the corner of his eye, on the left. I've seen it a thousand times and he doesn't know it once. Perhaps regret is the normal state of youth.
Concept: Those stories in youth that end before they can be told