When we first met, we just looked at each other, and the hand we held could never be put down again.
Flowers blooming on the road, that is a dream that is expected but out of reach. Drunk in the dream, drunken life and death.
Cowardly love cannot resist the temptation of power. When you let go, you realize that what you have been holding is your own heart.
He put on a wedding dress for you, but pushed it into someone else's arms. Should you love him or hate him?
When you call him father, do you only treat him as a relative?
Yes, the ultimate destination of love is relatives, but he doesn't understand.
Postscript: That night, the unrelenting accusations only resulted in regret. How could you blame someone who has passed away for not being able to understand your own heart?
When flowers bloom, they will eventually wither, and when people leave, they will be forgotten.
Why can't those memories go with him?