That year, the sun was shining brightly, and through the gaps in the sycamore leaves on the playground, scattered gold was scattered all over the ground. Later, when you were talking about it, I realized that I had never remembered such tender details. Maybe it's a joke of life. You are so warm and sunny, but I live like a bug.
Maybe, I just forgot about it. Only by recalling it this way will I not feel so heartbroken, and will I feel that my life has been so dark and not worth remembering.