One year, two years, six years, maybe many years after that, she will still remember the boy she met that winter.
Acquaintance, acquaintance, only she knows, there is no later, and there will be no later.
This is the youth of many people. They direct and act by themselves. They know the ending but are willing to live in this illusion and indulge in the dream they weave.
Many years later, she didn't know whether it was him she still loved or whether she had maintained the habit of loving him for such a long time.