Many times, I fantasize about what if.
If I haven't met you, if I have met you.
Even though it was such a surprise.
Whether,
Many years later, I will hold your hand and walk through the noisy road, smiling and cuddling with you.
Or maybe,
Many years later, I stood side by side with you in front of her grave, lamenting the distance between life and death and the difficulty of love.
If I can see you again.
I will definitely hold you tightly and tell you, Yi Ting, it turns out that I loved you so much before and now.
Then you said to me, why sigh.
But, later on, there is no if.