Memories·Youth
What I wrote in my memories is about you, my story, do you still remember that youthful and romantic time, and the dream that is silent in time but never fades. Although I am still sitting in front of the window, my heart has gone back to that place, the place where the roses bloomed, the place where I first met you.
You are not my acquaintance, and whose phantom am I? I thought that this was a story that we shared in our memories, but you said that this was just the past that gradually became dusty in the story.