Time is like water, and time is like song. Maybe one day many years later, I will forget that period of youth; maybe when I am old, I will forget what she looks like; maybe...
But now, I still treasure those beautiful strings of pearls in my memory, and the fragrance of apricot blossoms still vaguely lingers in my dreams... I want to, before I forget, gently pick up the scattered pearls, slowly connect them into a crystal string, and let them sway in the wind. Even if no one appreciates it, even if no one applauds, when I see it myself, I will still naturally show a slight smile.
Yes, when I am old, what a beautiful mood I will feel when I see these words... The apricot flowers are blooming again, and there is a faint smell of perfume in the air!
I would like to write this article to commemorate my lost youth!