I have always believed in retribution.
The letters from that year were scattered in pieces at the end of the garbage chute; the love letters from that year were pressed on the title page of the diary. This is retribution.
That year, he looked at her back; this year, she looked at his back. This is retribution.
That year, he said goodbye to this city; this year, she was abandoned by the city. This is retribution.
That year, he liked her and she liked him; this year, she liked him and he liked her. This is retribution.
The bond that cannot be escaped, the bitterness that cannot be forgotten.
"Who are you looking at through him?"
"Looking at things I never got."
A friendship that can't be let go, a love that can't be cut off.
"Please, don't tell him that I am so happy with great difficulty. If he knows that I take drugs, he will never forgive me! Please!"
A past that cannot be broken, a future that cannot be stuck.
"I'm obsessed, go and save her! Hurry! Otherwise it's too late! I'm sorry..."
"Without him, we wouldn't be like this."
She laughed, crazy.
Why is it that it is midsummer, but I am trembling with cold, and my heart has already entered winter.
"When you graduate, we will get married."
That young man said this in midsummer. The body shape has been blurred.
"Okay."
If I could go back to that midsummer, this would be the answer.