Gradually, I began to regret. I regretted that I did not leave more real memories for each other.
Gradually, I began to regret. I regretted that I did not add more color to our days.
Gradually, I began to regret. I regretted that I wasted my time in a hurry. The most beautiful time...
In fact, the most beautiful reality is not the memories, but the aftertaste of looking back after passing by. The sweet and sour taste, as well as the unspeakable astringency, will become the guideposts on the road of memory.