I will eventually go through the years, this is an inevitable journey that everyone must take. I learn to grow on the road. One day when I look back at this period with a smile, I know that I have grown up. If youth can be described as a taste, it must be the smell of burning weeds that summer. This smell has always been in the memory and lingers. The memories it brings are mixed with inexplicable sadness. All the days of youth and innocence should pass on time. Those days that inadvertently hurt others and hurt yourself will pass, forever...
That night, I no longer had the desire to cry, only empty sadness remained. So I deleted the chat history.
I wrote down this text and told myself that it was all over.