The distance from Haikou to Harbin, from me to her.
Missing is like weeds jointing in the body, then growing wildly, and then raging, in the dark night when there is no time to spread.
I know that Harbin is very cold in winter, unlike Haikou where the wind blows, there is no winter, and there is only a feeling of tears.
There's nothing real or unreal, it's just a story.