Buddha said: separation of love, meeting of resentment and hatred, letting go and returning to the west, there is no such thing. It's nothing but empty flowers and illusion.
She said:
In this life, I never regret meeting you. . . . I have no regrets about these fleeting sixteen years, no matter whether the spring breeze breaks the willows, the winter cold crushes the branches, or people are in a hurry. . . .