The past is like smoke, whose thoughts have drifted away; memories are like dreams, who has let down whose waiting. Maybe nothing in this world is eternal, everything has an end, time can change everything, but what cannot be changed will always be those young memories and the good things of the past. Memories are so cruel and at the same time so beautiful. What is the most pitiful memory is whether it will be remembered a long time ago in a long time. . .