I once loved someone so much that I fell in love with him hysterically, but the result was that they parted ways.
I used to think that everything I did was for him, and I thought that my self-conception was love. But after a long time, there were more and more passers-by in my life, and I had experienced various emotional crises. I suddenly realized that when I thought I loved you to the death, it was just my paranoia that I had to be together. It was not love, it was entanglement, restraint, and violating myself.
In fact, the story between me and him is very ordinary and does not have much social value. I want to present it in writing just because I want to use such a pretentious way to remember that I once loved someone so shamelessly and desperately. It also proves that in my youth, thanks to hormones, I did what I wanted to do regardless of the consequences. This is not only a story, but also the first beautiful look of a girl mourning her death. In the process of growing up, I lost too many beautiful things. It happened that when I was deeply infatuated with him, I was the simplest version of myself. At that time, I dared to love and hate, and I couldn't understand the sinister nature of people's hearts. I couldn't understand the danger behind roses and designer bags. I couldn't understand the words in people's words. I couldn't easily navigate in the world of flowers and live up to my sincerity without any guilt. I once saw a sentence: There will always be a person who is your destiny. Sooner or later, you will meet him, and you can't escape. This sentence is deeply imprinted on my heart, forehead, and lips as my highest belief. I believed it because I met him and my own calamity.
Conception: