I have been crazy, stupid, persistent, persistent, and I have loved, but in the end? I'm not good, I'm the only one left in my world. Cherish it or not cherish it. If I lose myself one day, will anyone find me? As time goes by, I get older, I know more, I see more, and my happiness becomes less and less. I become a glass person, a glass person who cannot see through my heart and is fragile. . .