I often wonder if I had not chosen to sit next to you that day.
Will you and I never meet each other in this life? There is nothing to do next.
Do you love me?
Or he just happened to meet me, so that's me.
In fact, I really want to know why it is me, but I have never dared to ask, fearing that the answer would be what I thought, which would only add to my disappointment.
But I kept convincing myself that it would be fine just like this, without asking about the past or the future.
May I?