My story happened in the late summer and early autumn of that year.
I wore my favorite white cotton skirt and wandered aimlessly down the street. I passed that tall building several times and deliberately avoided it several times. But in the end, he came around. I know that I am destined to not escape this disaster.
Today, it's the wedding of the person I love, and the bride is not me. I never thought that such a vulgar plot would happen to me, but it is so real.
If I knew it would end like this from the beginning, would I still love you?
Conception: