The wisteria flowers were in full bloom, and I couldn't help but think of a story I read when I was a child. In the end, both of them fell off a cliff and turned into a wisteria tree after death. The flowers depended on the tree and lived on for generations to come. I think, my sister-in-law is his wisteria, she lives for love and dies for love. And even though I was born for him and died for him, I am not his wisteria after all.
Conception: