Time is like water, flowing by in a hurry, and wherever it sweeps, dust gradually falls. Youth begins by opening the door of love, and then embarks on the journey of finding love. This road, sweet, sour, miserable, confused, and desperate, is vivid in my mind. It numbs the once sensitive heart, buries the deep feelings that have passed away, and dries up the tears that I thought were endless. The passing years seem like vicissitudes of life. To say that love is indeed reluctant, to say that hate is rampant. The remnants of love in the past are the old times when you and I were together.