Many years later, I would often sit on your favorite beach rock. Thinking about the first time I met you. I often think hard, but I really don't remember what kind of clothes you were wearing that day, and I don't remember your expression. I almost forget your twelve-year-old face at that time. But every time such a vague memory vaguely appears in my mind, I feel an inexplicable warmth, accompanied by a little unrequited pain, spreading in my heart...