I would like to write this article to commemorate the love that I may have had.
This is not a fairy tale. He and she are just ordinary people in real life. There is no earth-shattering love, but only their seriousness and persistence in love.
Was it her perseverance that moved his closed heart, or was it that he had already made room for her in his heart from the beginning?
What will be the ending of a painful and repressed emotion?
For him now, love is a luxury. In front of the high floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the busy world, there is no sense of accomplishment, but more of a loneliness. The exquisitely crafted door separates the direct intimacy between people, and also isolates his heart.
Over the years, he has always blamed himself and regretted why he was so cowardly at that time. Her hand was right in front of him, but he didn't have the courage to hold it...