The past goes with the wind. That incident seems to me to have been a long time ago, but I want to write it down. The story is inevitably mixed with the shadow of myself and friends. Some stories cannot be easily told to others, so one can only find an excuse to make up a story and tell it.
I thought the city was big, but it was actually very small. I thought my love was as deep as the ocean, but it was just a scandal in the modern city.