I don't know when we started to grow up, and I don't know when we started to feel alone, lonely, and even empty and deprived. Maybe it started when you started to have an inexplicable liking for a person, or secretly developed feelings for him. We began to vaguely understand that it was love, and we suddenly became adults, even childishly starting to pretend to be mature. When love comes, we think it is the happiest thing in the world, but confusion and sadness will lurk around from time to time, making it difficult to see the journey clearly. However, love is nothing more than that you love me, I love her, and she loves her. It seems that the person we love is always floating in mid-air.