This is the best of times.
There is the most indifferent feeling here.
If I could walk faster, could I see what we would be like in the future? Would I try to save it again, or would I stop and stare at another distant place.
We turned our backs and held our heads high, proud and unruly.
But we know each other is there.
We are strangers on the same road.
You and I embraced the summer sunshine on the best afternoon, and then drifted away.
Sometimes, after walking on this road for a long time, the warm sunshine will seem scorching. Sometimes I will stop and think about the stranger you I met that afternoon.
The brilliance I had at that time turned into countless needles pricking my chest at this moment.
This is the story of two strangers.
Sometimes I can't even remember what happened that afternoon.
But sometimes, my eyes are filled with gold from that day.
Yo, my dear stranger.
Where are you and how are you doing.
She thought she would be involved in an ambiguous relationship with him, but her first love was suddenly cut off by another woman; she thought she would have a peaceful relationship with him. Not only did the trees want to be quiet but the wind kept coming, even if it was just on campus, calmness was just an appearance.
Rather than fleeing, it is better to stay in the center of the storm. No matter how you run, you can't escape the abyss.
(First person attention)
Intention: