This is a warm 1v1 story, and the end of life is just one sentence: Hold your hand and grow old with your son.
"Whether you love her or not, you just have to imagine. Even if you imagine him washing vegetables with someone else or eating an orange together on the sofa, you will tremble with jealousy and crush the water glass manically. As for whether he will spend the rest of his life with someone else, you will be alone, and you will have to cheer up and find someone like you or die. It's something you can't even think about."
Because of this unintentional passage, I had the idea to write about how lucky I am to meet you.
In fact, there are so many excuses for loving someone, but the depth is not enough.
In fact, to put it bluntly, true love probably means I want to be with you, forever.
Even if you imagine him and you breathing oxygen under the same sky, you will feel satisfied.