The stories of youth always have a touch of sadness, just like butterflies.
I once read this sentence: A butterfly emerging from a cocoon is a kind of transformation, and a person's baptism of youth is also a kind of transformation.
As time goes by, we are changing, and there are always those evocative youth stories that can never be told and told.
In youth, we are like leaves, breaking away from the protection of trees and turning into fallen leaves in late spring. The fate of the future is in your own hands, just let the wind take it...