Everyone I meet is of all kinds. Why am I still alone now? It's still the same, not suddenly. Is it because they were piled in the corner after the experience, without reading them carefully, leaving only a feeling spinning around in my mind, the colors mixed, blurred, and turned into a ball of paste. Now she just wants to clean up these beautiful things while she is still in the mood.
When time passed and the world changed, I realized that human memory is limited, energy is limited, but time and space are constantly rotating and extending infinitely. I don't know how many things have been forgotten and still remembered. Maybe she is making progress, but it does not mean that the people she met at the beginning are secondary. In the end, I discovered that what was originally a childhood sweetheart turned into a final book that was hard to trust. . .