I am at 25° north latitude and you are at 37° north latitude. We are 1507 kilometers apart.
When we met, you were standing on the podium and I was sitting in the back row of the classroom, watching you talk and smile.
Time has passed, and the years have taken away your youthful appearance, leaving you with crow's feet at the corners of your eyes and the maturity you have experienced.
Time flies by, life has worn away my edges and corners, and the tenderness between my brows has faded away, in exchange for my determination for the future.
I have read too many stories, whether they are happy or sad, I am just a spectator, a bystander of the life carefully described by others, just like a person drinking water, he knows whether he is warm or cold. Whenever I walk alone in a city without you, I often think that stories come from life. Should I write down our story to say goodbye to the past and start my own story?
Volume 1 High School
Volume 2 University (Main Story)
Intention: