In this world, there is too little staying together through thick and thin, and far too much parting ways and forgetting each other. Some people we once loved deeply mistook every day together for forever, and a fleeting moment of tenderness for a lifetime of love. So came the promises, and the yearning to hold hands and grow old together, as the intoxication of the years muddled the mortal world. After several cycles of life, perhaps everything has changed. The longing that fills every day, the feelings that cannot be cast aside. The old days have faded like mist; as dust and resentment are brushed away, whose face do they reveal? In the darkness, a tender heart gazes into the distance, sleepless through the night, while dancing shadows shatter. I silently write down a string of fading emotions, only for the brilliance and bustle to carry away the springtime in the garden. Amid the clamor of a world adrift, I choose solitude.
In this endless story, let me be the one who tells it, sighing over a lifetime that was no more than a fleeting dream of splendor.
(This story is entirely fictional. Readers, take it as you will. If there are any shortcomings, I welcome your criticism.)
The writing is delicate and delicate, with a sense of distance, like the goose feathers and heavy snow scattered in the world, light and airy. Keep up the good work, the author (*^__^*)