A poet once wrote: How I wished I could meet you, but I couldn't. On such a desolate and silent sandbank, when the sky turns dark and the wind turns cold, when all our thoughts and movements gradually slow down, what kind of dusk will it be, and at this moment, calamus flowers are still blooming randomly, and they are everywhere here and there, showing off her passion like the world around them. That little heart, from pure white to blue-violet, seems to be telling the story that I have longed for in my life.
This is a story that belongs to the post-90s generation, a story about girls. The traces of time are full of ups and downs. No one can see through whether the path we have taken is lucky or embarrassing, right or wrong. The ignorance of youth, the fanaticism of youth, and the depth of middle age, in the end, are still no match for a kind of love, the love that will accompany you for a lifetime. The rise of the hopeless atmosphere, the movement of time, the distance between hearts, the changes of things, and the dealings between people, bring about all kinds of secular world, spreading the approval of the most magnificent people. Waiting and looking forward to that true love, running around looking for a love, that unforgettable love, a beautiful family with laughter...