I finally found you in my lush memories. It's an old yellowed newspaper, and I can still smell your scent through my fingers. Maybe it was because the senses at that time were too rich. Even after I left, I still miss those flowery chapters, and I also sketched out various aspects of myself at that time. It seems that you gain because of your innocence, and you lose because of your innocence. Talking about twists and turns is something that only young and mature people can easily believe. I wandered along the way, experiencing new scenery and constructing unfamiliar stories. The trajectories along the way seem to have been replaced by familiar pictures, even though they are mottled, they are still vivid. Who built a smooth and stable illusion for me, but left peacefully after exposing it. I guess I can't wallow in it anymore. You are the knot that I cannot untie in my life, cannot be remembered and cannot be touched.