The sun reflects on your childish face, clean and transparent, and you say: Hold my hand and you won't be afraid. I looked up and saw your childlike stubborn face.
We used to be simple and clean. I always think that being a child next to you and looking at your doting eyes makes me feel so happy. No matter how big a mistake I made, you just smiled, curved the corners of your mouth into a nice curve, and then slowly said: Hold you to grow, hold you to die, this is the fate I choose.
But... But...
Later, for us, tears replaced smiles, melancholy replaced happiness, and there was something called trance in your eyes. Although we were very close, we felt so far away.
You said from afar: Don't cry.
I said quietly: Don't cry.
Then, you looked up and smiled, and I turned and left.
The wind blows my hands, my hair, my heart, and my eyes far away; you stand far away in that city, that path, that room, that window. I quietly use the CD music you gave me as the background.
It turns out that we have all forgotten, and forgetting is the best way to heal.
I think it's time to forget you and everything about you.
The face is cool, and when I touch it, there are tears. Maybe this is the last time I cry for you, maybe it's really time to forget...