I thought our agreement might be a poem about love, because I still have so many girlish feelings that are quietly brewing and working hard.
But it turns out that it is just a symbol of fate, and it can be said without any correction.
She said, "You are not a fish, how can you know the joy of fish?"
He said, go to sleep, I will leave when you fall asleep.
She said, 30% likes her, 70% misses her, and 70% hopes that she will never see her again.
I said, for no reason, we are still like this when we are old.
As we talked, we understood more and more clearly that fate has always been a master at going against people's wishes. The more important things are always lost unpredictably and obviously, intentionally or unintentionally, in the long process of transmission from thought to action. In the end, no one could take things seriously. Poetry or non-poetic things were easy, and things were gained as well as lost.
At that time, think about it, we should all allow ourselves to be proud of those few and overwhelming possessions. Because no matter how much we have, at a certain time, in a certain environment and with a certain object, it will become precious and envied by others.