Back then, people were always debating which mattered more: love or bread.
It was a difficult choice, but I would choose love without hesitation. It's not that bread doesn't matter. It's just that my life would have no meaning without love.
I don't know what made me fall in love, and afterward I couldn't find an excuse to forget. Whether we die with love or go on living in pain, at least we once loved with all our hearts.
I used to think love was a beautiful thing. It turns out imperfect love is what leaves an indelible mark.
