If you love me when I love you
The wind picked up.
The wind is blowing outside the window.
But I haven't had time to close my eyes yet.
It just cut right into my heart.
I once heard someone say that if your heart hurts, cut it out.
If you feel like there is sand in your eyes, just cry.
If you love me when I love you.
Then you will hold my hand and open your warm hands to me.
Then you will carry me, who is neither tall nor short, and your smile at me will be like a ray of hot sunshine piercing my heart.
You will kiss me, hold me tightly in your arms, and tell jokes secretly in my ear.
If you love me when I love you.
Then I will hold your arms in my arms, and when I close my eyes and open them again, I can see you in my dream.
Then I will lean on your broad shoulders with peace of mind and no longer be afraid that you will disappear or disappear or be like a dream.
Then I will no longer be alone.
Then my eyes and heart are worthy of being exchanged.
But the wind has blown your appearance too clearly.
Too vague again.
Blow your look too close.
But it's too far away.
I couldn't see clearly with my strength, I couldn't reach out and hold it, and I couldn't feel my feelings even with all my strength.
This was probably just an if.
A kind of if without originality.
If I love you.
You happen to love me too.