Secret love is a person's chaos.
The love I had in those years was like a fruit candy I was reluctant to eat,
Place it in the deepest part of the drawer and end up as hard as a rock.
I once hit rock bottom just because of a "casual question".
I was also happy all afternoon for a bottle of water that "no one else wanted".
He gave me a choice, but I shut myself out with "I'm about to take the high school entrance exam."
Later I had a very stable love,
But I still dream about that afternoon, dreaming that I finally stretched out my hand.
Maybe your story and I will spawn countless parallel time and spaces, and this me is the one who chose not to be together at the beginning.
Intention: What I think about is never that person, but the clumsy and sincere self who once loved someone with all my heart.