Reality and fantasy,
Like two parallel lines that are infinitely close to never intersecting.
Some times,
That end point we thought we could reach, that place where dreams come true
In the end, it still became a mirror in my memory,
I walked over, turned around, and found out,
In the end we were still a little bit behind, just a little bit.
Possible,
Just that little bit of time, that little bit of persistence, that little bit of courage...
Finally
All that was left was that gentle sigh. . . . . .
I know
Not all love is pure and beautiful
It may start from your temporary curiosity and novelty
i know
Not all love has a beginning and an end
It may just be something that "happens to your mind" at a certain moment
i know
Not all love lasts forever
It may only do what you remember "once had"
I know too
Not all fate can lead to love
Not all waiting can lead to love
Not all compassion can be exchanged for love
So, one day
I suddenly want to write down those things that seem to be related to love
But it was just a little bit short, and it was a story of a passing love in the end.