We all miss it.
An old song.
A familiar stranger.
I don't know that moment.
We just miss it.
Something. Some people.
No matter how unwilling you are.
In the end, they will grow old and die without contacting each other.
This is reality.
We don't choose reality.
It is reality that chooses us.
She once thought he was her whole world
Once he leaves, her world will be turned upside down
But she forgot.
He is not here, there are many others
But why?
So many of them are inferior to the one who is not gentle, considerate, and has a vicious tongue.
So much love back then
Where did it go?
Maybe it's just a dream
One dream for two or three years
One dream lasts two or three years.